by Roy Johansen
“It’s turning right at the light,” Kendra said. “Onto Sunset Boulevard.”
“I’m on it.” Jessie spun onto Sunset, now only a few yards behind the van. She put on an extra burst of speed and pulled even with the heavily tinted driver’s side window. The window lowered slightly, and the streetlights caught the glint of a gun barrel.
BLAM!
But Jessie had already dropped several feet behind. The van swerved and sideswiped the limo’s front right panel, pushing them into oncoming traffic. Jessie pulled back into her lane.
The van picked up speed.
“Don’t lose it,” Kendra shouted frantically.
“No way.” Jessie gripped the wheel harder. “Those guys are really starting to piss me off.”
They followed the van down Sunset until, without warning, it cut a hard left.
“Silver Lake Boulevard,” Jessie said as she followed. “Where in the hell are they taking her?”
The streets narrowed, and the traffic thinned, leaving them almost alone with the speeding van.
Suddenly a blinding shaft of light struck the van from above, startling both Jessie and the van’s driver. Both vehicles swerved as they continued down the street.
A helicopter roared overhead, its searchlight locked on the van.
“It’s a police chopper,” Kendra said. She nodded toward the phone. “They’ve been listening.”
“Good. Now if they’ll just get some police cruisers here to cut these guys off.”
A black void had suddenly appeared to their left. “What the hell is that?” Kendra asked.
“The Silver Lake Reservoir. It goes on for almost a mile.”
They were now on a two-lane road, with a chain-link fence bordering the reservoir on their left, and single-family homes on their right. The helicopter dipped lower, its rotors blowing the trees on both sides of the road.
The van put on an extra burst of speed as if trying to break free of the helicopter’s searchlight. But as the road curved, the van appeared to lose control. It swerved one way, then the next, then finally crashed through the reservoir fence. The van went airborne, launching over and into the dark water below.
“No!” Jessie screamed. “Dee!” She slammed the brakes, and they jumped out of the limo. The police helicopter now hovered over the reservoir, its searchlight trained over the bubbling, churning water where the van had plunged.
Jessie ran around to the limo’s trunk and pulled out a tire iron. “That van could be twenty feet down. How good are you in the water?”
“Good enough.” Kendra grabbed a jack handle and hefted it. “Let’s go get her.”
They ducked through the opening in the damaged chain-link fence and ran to the reservoir’s edge. Wind from the helicopter blades whipped around them, blowing up loose dirt and churning the water even more. A garbled voice spoke from the helicopter’s P.A. system.
“I can’t hear him. What did he say?” Jessie yelled.
“He’s telling us not to go in.”
“That’s what I thought.” Jessie shed her jacket and leaped into the water.
Kendra jumped in behind her.
Cold. Freaking cold.
Didn’t matter, Kendra thought. They had to get to Dee.
She took a deep breath and dove beneath the still-churning water.
The helicopter searchlight cast a shimmering glow on the reservoir’s bottom. Kendra and Jessie descended toward the discharging pockets of air until they finally reached the van, which, true to Jessie’s estimate, was almost twenty feet down.
Jessie swam around to the driver’s side door. The window was shattered, and there was no sign of the driver. Kendra looked inside. There was a built-in metal barrier behind the two front seats, shielding the rear compartment from view. Even in the dim underwater light, Kendra could see the frustration on Jessie’s face.
They swam around to the van’s rear doors. Kendra tapped on them with the jack handle.
Tap-tap-tap.
No response.
Jessie began prying the door open.
Kendra tried again. Tap-tap-tap.
Come on, Dee. Let us know you’re okay.
But she might not be okay. She might be unconscious.
Kendra tried again. Tap-tap-tap.
Again, no answer.
Jessie was working frantically with her tire iron to pry open those doors. Kendra followed suit, inserting the jack handle in the gap between the doors and bracing her feet on the rear bumper.
The doors weren’t budging.
Dammit.
Kendra’s lungs ached, and she knew she had only another few seconds before she’d have to return to the surface.
She pulled even harder.
Open, you son of a bitch…
CRACK!
The lock broke and the door swung open.
Get her out!
They both surged forward—
No!
Kendra and Jessie stared in horror at the sight that awaited them in the van’s rear compartment.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The van was empty.
* * *
Kendra and Jessie pulled themselves out of the reservoir to find four police cruisers now waiting for them on the road. Eight officers had their guns drawn and aimed at them.
The helicopter’s P.A. system sounded another garbled message that neither Kendra nor Jessie could understand, but the cops understood it well enough to lower their weapons.
A tall, bald officer stepped forward. “Delilah Winter,” he said grimly. “Is she…”
“She’s not down there,” Kendra said curtly. “This van was a decoy. They pulled us away right after we exited the 101 onto Santa Monica. The van with Delilah Winter could be anywhere by now.”
“What about the driver?”
Jessie gestured out toward the dark reservoir. “Out there somewhere. They planned for this to distract us and buy time to get away with her. The driver is out there with scuba gear.”
“How do you know?”
Jessie reached into the pocket of her wet jeans and produced a white plastic cap. “This fits over a regulator. I found it floating in the driver’s compartment. You might want to get that helicopter patrolling the edges of this reservoir. If you’re lucky, you might be able to catch him coming out of the water.”
The cop nodded. “Will do. You ladies sit tight. We’ll get you some blankets. We’ll need full statements from you.”
Jessie shook her head and started back for the still-running limo. “We’re heading back to the Bowl.”
“Ma’am…”
“No!” Kendra followed her. “We need to find out how in the hell this happened. If you need statements, you can get them from us there.”
CHAPTER
3
Hollywood Bowl
On the way back to the Bowl, Kendra and Jessie stopped at a twenty-four-hour pharmacy to pick up towels, sweatpants, and T-shirts so they could quickly dry themselves and change.
“It’s a mob scene.” Kendra gave a low whistle and shook her head as Jessie drove up the driveway toward the Bowl’s parking area, which was still ablaze with lights. “It looks like we might have to fight our way back down to the crime scene.”
The audience had obviously been cleared from the premises, but the parking lot was still full of vehicles. Kendra noticed innumerable cars from the LAPD and FBI as well as forensic and coroner’s vans, but the majority of the vehicles were obviously media-related. TV crews were setting up all over the parking lot; there were even three TV vans pulled to the far side. Of course there would be media, she thought bitterly.
Dee was a mega-star, and this was a gigantic story. Journalists always had sources ready to clue them in on potential breaking news. They had probably arrived here before she and Jessie had even pulled out in pursuit.
But the reporters themselves seemed to be milling out here in the parking lot and weren’t being permitted to enter the Bowl itself. T
here was an LAPD officer checking a clipboard at the front barricade for people to be allowed entrance, but he was looking harassed and being bombarded. “It’s going to take us time to even get close enough to talk to that officer about letting us get down to the crime scene.”
“The hell it is. I’m not in a mood to have to go through this bullshit.” Jessie’s tone was clipped as she parked the limo with a screech of brakes squarely in the middle of the parking lot. “I’m going to see Parks now. If that cop wants to try to stop me, we’re going to have a discussion.”
And that discussion wouldn’t be pleasant, Kendra knew. Jessie was usually cool and reasonable and got her way by persuasion and cleverness. But she’d been stretched to the limit tonight and she was as frightened about Dee as Kendra. “Give me a couple minutes.” Kendra reached for her phone. “Those are FBI vans over there. FBI is usually in charge in a kidnapping. Let me see if I can get someone to call off that LAPD cop.”
“Do it.” Jessie was looking straight ahead. “Hurry.”
Kendra was hurrying as she dialed Metcalf’s number. He picked up immediately. “God, I’m sorry, Kendra. Any news?”
“All bad, so far. I need your help.”
“It’s not our jurisdiction. L.A. cases are handled by an assistant director in charge up there. You’ll have to go through him.”
“Don’t give me that bureaucratic bullshit. Help me.”
“What do you need?” he asked quietly.
“Right now, not much. Just contact one of the FBI guys at the stadium and have him come up to the entrance gate and order this LAPD cop to let us go down to the crime scene. Jessie’s in no mood to deal with any more delays. You have to know someone there you can ask for a favor. From the look of this parking lot, half the local FBI office must be here tonight.”
“Probably close. I hear they’re pulling out all the stops trying to locate Delilah Winter. I’ll do what I can. Jessie is with you?”
“Yes. Hurry.” She cut the connection and turned to Jessie. “Complications. San Diego jurisdiction doesn’t apply to L.A. But Metcalf is working on helping us where he can.”
“So I heard.” She was swearing beneath her breath. “That’s all we need is to have the local L.A. office getting in our way instead of helping us.”
“We’ll work it out,” Kendra said. “We both know that there are ways to get around every problem. No one wants anything to happen to Dee. We’ll just make sure it doesn’t.”
“But if those kidnappers think that she’s too hot to handle and becoming a liability, the first thing they’ll do is kill her.”
“Not the first thing. They’ll try everything else first and you know it. She’s too valuable to them. And that will give us time to get her back.” She opened her car door. “Come on, let’s go up to that barricade. Stop being negative. I have faith in Metcalf. He’ll pull those strings and we’ll have you down there at the crime scene with Parks in no time.”
“You’re being a little too Pollyanna for me at the moment, Kendra,” Jessie said grimly as she followed her. “Have I ever told you how I hate Pollyanna?”
“Now, that’s truly negative. Though in most cases I agree with you. I was just trying to—”
“Dr. Kendra Michaels!” The LAPD officer was bellowing at the top of his voice, his gaze on his clipboard. “Ms. Jessie Mercado!”
“Shit!” Kendra grabbed Jessie’s arm and pulled her through the crowd of reporters. “This is the last thing I wanted.” She pushed her ID in front of the officer’s face and then ducked through the barricade as the reporters started closing in to fire questions at her. “They’ll latch on to every name, every person connected to the case.”
“Particularly Kendra Michaels,” Jessie said as she started to run down the steps toward the backstage crime scene. “How do you feel now, Pollyanna?”
“Low blow.” But Kendra stopped as she saw a remarkably good-looking auburn-haired man whose sleek dark suit and air of authority were very familiar to her. “I think that has to be the FBI agent who’s coming to follow up his call to that LAPD guy at the gate. I’ll talk to him. You cut across the stage and go find Parks.”
“I wasn’t going to do anything else,” Jessie said. “I’ll see you later.”
She was gone.
But the FBI agent had been taking the steps two at a time and was suddenly standing in front of Kendra. He was just as good looking as Kendra had first thought, with dark brown eyes, a golden tan, and a flashing smile that was very warm and personal. “Kendra Michaels?” He held out his hand. “Special Agent Nate Kelland. I’m delighted to have been able to help you. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time. Your reputation precedes you.”
She shook his hand. “I appreciate you cooperating. I know the first few hours of a kidnapping investigation are so important. You and Metcalf are friends?”
He shook his head. “We’ve worked a few cases together and we’ve met at conferences. I respect him as an agent. But I’m sure he realized he was calling the right person when you said you needed help. We’ve spoken of you a few times, and I’ve told him how I much I admire what you’ve accomplished.” He smiled. “I believe I even mentioned how I envied him the opportunity of working with you.”
“That’s very kind.” Her eyes narrowed. “But does that mean you’ll be willing to let Jessie and me have access to information and possibly contribute to the case as it progresses?”
“I’ll have to see what I can do.” He smiled that charming smile again. “I do have a certain amount of pull with the assistant director, but he might be stubborn where this is concerned. It’s a tremendously big case and very high-profile. The outcome could affect his career…or mine.” He added quickly, “Not that it would make a difference to me. I’m concerned only with the safe return of Delilah Winter.”
“So are we,” Kendra said quietly. “She’s our friend and nothing is more important to us than getting her back.”
“You’re already doing that according to the reports I have from LAPD on-site at the reservoir.” His gaze was on the wet hair clinging around her face. “It must have been quite a chase. I’m sorry you weren’t successful in apprehending them. I hope we’ll get another opportunity to go after them together.” He added brusquely, “We’ll need a detailed statement from both of you regarding the events that transpired on that chase in the city. All information is essential right now. You’re welcome to question any of the witnesses yourself as long as an agent is present. I’ll be glad to discuss the case with you at any time if you believe you have anything to contribute.”
“We’ll need to know when you get a ransom demand.”
“That will be a little dicey. But I’ll try to persuade the assistant director to share.” He gestured to the stairs. “Now may I take you to meet my fellow agents and the LAPD officers who will also be working the case? The governor has requested it be a joint operation until we find the victim.”
Victim. Kendra shivered at the thought of that term applied to Dee. That vibrant, glowing young woman who had lit up the stage only hours ago…“I’m glad. I wish he’d call in the state militia.”
Kelland smiled. “I promise we’ll put so many agents in the field, you’ll think he has.” He started down the stairs. “And since I’ll be one of them, I have to get back to work myself. But I’m sure that’s exactly how you’d want it.”
“Yes, I would.” She wasn’t quite sure what to think of Nate Kelland, but she recognized he might be a force with which to be reckoned. All that charm and warmth and yet his actual commitment to helping them had been minimal. But this wasn’t the time to tear apart the intentions of someone who might be of use to them.
He’d responded with support when Metcalf had asked him. She’d take that as an encouraging sign and worry about how to handle any other interaction later. She followed him quickly down the steps. “I’ll make sure that you get our statements before we leave here tonight. And I’ll be happy to meet everyone on your t
eam a little later. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see if Jessie Mercado was able to get any more information from Colin Parks.”
As she hurried past him, she added dryly, “And to make sure she hasn’t done him bodily harm in the process. She wasn’t at all pleased at how careless he’d been to allow this nightmare to happen.”
* * *
But Jessie hadn’t even started to speak to Parks yet when Kendra reached her a few minutes later. “He’s giving a statement,” she said curtly as she nodded at Parks sitting at a desk across from an agent typing into a computer. “He said he’d get to me as soon as he could. He’s probably trying to avoid me.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “I’d sure as hell want to avoid me right now.”
So would anyone, Kendra thought ruefully. Jessie had been uptight before, but it was clear she was very close to explosion. “Maybe he’s just trying to cooperate with the FBI. Special Agent Kelland seems to be a stickler about getting those statements right away.” She nodded toward the agent. “Remember? We have to give one of our own before we leave here today.”
“Stickler? I don’t like that word.” Jessie gave him a brief glance. “Good grief, he looks like a damn male model. Are we in trouble?”
“I’m not sure. He seems cooperative. We’ll have to see how he follows through.” She frowned. “If we have a problem, maybe we can work around him with Metcalf and Griffin.”
“Who will have limited access and information now that they’re out of the loop. We don’t have time for that, Kendra.” Her gaze was back on Parks, who had gotten up from his chair and was signing his statement. “And this should never have happened.”
“You keep saying that,” Kendra said impatiently. “But it did happen, and we have to accept it and just find a way to get her back. You know that as well as—”
But Jessie was no longer listening; she was crossing the stage to stand in front of Parks. “It shouldn’t have happened,” she repeated fiercely. “What did you do that was different from your regular routine, Parks?”
“Nothing,” he said curtly. “Get off my back, Jessie. We had a schedule and routine that we went through every evening she had a performance. My men were as well rehearsed as Delilah. They wouldn’t have changed the plan.”
