Redzone (28 page)

Wolfe looked at her. “Meaning the informant?”

“Yeah . . . He took off. But we've got the perp, assuming he stays where he is,” Lee said. “What were you able to put together?”

“We have a green light from Jenkins, and once I give them the address, the county mounties will throw a perimeter around the place. Hopefully your guy won't notice—but it sounds like he's out of there anyway.”

“Outstanding,” Lee said, as she passed a huge RV. “Did you bring a weapon?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You might need it.”

Lee managed to cut a trip that was supposed to take an hour and twenty minutes down to forty. She killed the lights and the siren as they passed through the screen that had been thrown up by the sheriff. By that time Wolfe had authorized them to tighten the cordon—and send a unit to Valentine's clinic.

“Okay,” Lee said, as they neared the location. “There were at least two people involved in the Vasquez murder—so we'll need to be on the lookout for a second perp.”

“Roger that,” Wolfe said, as she checked her Glock.

“Bingo!” Lee said, as she pulled into the lot. “There it is. See the DMV sticker on the bumper? And the vise? My informant was correct.”

“It looks like all of the tires are flat,” Wolfe observed. “Your guy perhaps?”

“That's how it looks,” Lee agreed, as she turned the engine off.

“We don't have a warrant so we'll have to bullshit our way in,” Wolfe said as she put the pistol away. “I'll take the lead.” All Lee could do was nod.

Gravel crunched underfoot as they got out of the car and made their way up to the front door. A sign read, “Push the button for service,” and Lee saw that a keypad was mounted next to the entrance, and a camera was peering down at them. That was a whole lot security for a boarding facility. A disembodied voice said, “Yes? How can I help you?”

“I have a horse,” Wolfe replied. “And I'm looking for a place where I can leave him for a month or so.”

“I'm sure we can help you,” the woman said. “Please come in.” There was a click as the lock was released. Wolfe opened the door and entered first. They found themselves in a sparsely furnished office. A woman was seated behind the reception desk—and Lee could see a glassed-in office beyond that. A man was seated with his back to the visitors. The perp? Lee felt her pulse begin to race.

As the receptionist turned to look at the policewomen, Lee saw the look of instant recognition on her face. Because she hadn't bothered to study the images on the security monitor? But was
very
familiar with the news coverage related to the Vasquez murder? Yes!

Lee was about to intervene when the woman brought a taser up from a drawer and shot Wolfe in the chest. She jerked spasmodically and fell.

Lee knew the weapon could be fired up to three times in quick succession and went for the Glock. The pistol came out of the new holster smoothly and jumped in her hand. The slug passed through one of the receptionist's sky blue eyes and killed her instantly.

Then Lee heard a loud bang and turned to see that the man had disappeared. The noise had been caused by a door's hitting the wall as he escaped into the back of the building.

Lee glanced at Wolfe, saw the agonized expression on the other woman's face, and knew she'd be out of action for at least ten minutes. That left Lee with no choice but to proceed alone.

As Lee approached the open door, the fire alarm came on, causing her to wonder if the perp was trying to burn the place down. But as she stepped into the area where the animals were stabled it quickly became apparent that the suspect had something else in mind. Since escaping the office the perp had been able to open at least a dozen stalls. So when the alarm went off many of the animals bolted out of their enclosures and went looking for a way to escape the shrieking noise.

Lee had to jump aside as a badly panicked horse charged straight at her. Then she had to run from stall to stall as a menagerie of mules, donkeys, and goats thundered back and forth, all adding their own unique noises to the hellish cacophony inside the barn.

The perp was trying to slow her down. That much was obvious. But
why
? To escape out the back? If so, that was fine with Lee. He wouldn't get far. Not with four flat tires and a bunch of deputies waiting for him.

But what if the bastard had something else in mind? What if Baxter was being held in a room somewhere? Maybe he planned to use her as a hostage. Or, worse yet, the sick son of a bitch might kill her!

Lee managed to sidestep a braying donkey as she pushed forward. Then a bullet blew a splinter out of the support post to her right, and Lee caught a brief glimpse of a man standing on top of a divider, pointing a pistol at her. Then he was gone as a cloud of dust rose to envelop the scene.

Lee swore, dropped into a crouch, and continued to advance. There was a second gunshot as she dashed across an aisle and a horse screamed in pain. And that produced even
more
panic. But Lee was almost at the back of the barn by then. And, as someone turned the alarm off, she advanced with the Glock at the ready. That was when the man appeared with an arm wrapped around Baxter's throat. She was nude, Lee could see ugly-looking welts on her body, and it looked as though the vet was supporting most of the police officer's weight. He was also holding a gun to Baxter's head. “Back off!” he grated. “Back off, or the bitch dies.”

“If she dies,
you
die,” Lee countered. “So let's cut the crap. If you were going to blow her brains out you'd have done it by now. So release Officer Baxter and put the weapon down.”

“No!” he said emphatically. “I want . . .”

Lee never got to hear what the perp wanted because that was the moment when Baxter came back to life. Her head
came up, she snarled, and turned in on Valentine. That threw him off-balance. He fired and the bullet creased Baxter's skull. The vet tried to react, but was too slow, as Baxter grabbed his shirt and brought a knee up into his crotch. As he bent over in pain, she made use of both hands to club the back of his neck.

The revolver came loose as he fell and Baxter hurried to scoop it up. And then, with the gun pointed at his back and blood running down her cheek, she began the legal litany. “You are under arrest. You have the right to . . . to . . .” Then she collapsed.

ABOUT A HUNDRED
people were gathered on the plaza in front of the angular LAPD headquarters building. The press conference began at precisely 5:30
P.M.
, so that the local TV stations could carry it live.

The chief of police was present . . . As were Jenkins, Wolfe, and Lee. But rather than talk about the team, Corso chose to tell the story of a brave police officer named Jennifer Baxter who, even after being tortured for days, still found the strength required to turn on her captor at the last moment. And would have arrested him herself had it not been for the extent of her injuries.

Very little attention was paid to the events that led up to that moment, or to Lee's role in the arrest, and that was fine with her. Baxter deserved the praise that was being heaped on her—and the last thing Lee wanted was more publicity.

As for Dr. Michael Valentine, AKA the Bonebreaker, he was being held on multiple counts of murder. And thanks to the fact that he and his assistant had chosen to videotape their crimes, a guilty verdict was a foregone conclusion.

So after updating the press on Baxter's condition, Corso opened the press conference to questions, most of which were directed to him. But Carla Zumin saw Lee and was quick to pounce. “So, Detective Lee,” she said. “Congratulations regarding your part in the rescue. According to the department's press release, the critical tip came in to
you
. Who provided that tip? And why did they contact you?”

“I can't share that information with you at this time,” Lee said stiffly.

Zumin smiled sweetly. “Please let me know when you can. It seems there might be a hidden hero in all of this.”

The presser came to a conclusion a few minutes later and Lee was free to go home. More than that she
had
to go home pending the finding of another shooting review board. Everyone agreed that it was a no-brainer. Even so the process would have to be coordinated with the Riverside Sheriff's Department—and that was likely to drag it out. Kane saw that as a plus—and said so as he drove her home. “You could use time off,” he said. “The break will be good for you.”

And it
was
good for her. Lee made use of the time to rent a storage unit for her bike, to file an insurance claim, and to check on her former neighbors. Mr. Henry blamed her for the loss of his home, but he had renter's insurance and would be okay. The others were more generous and wished her well.

But even with all of that, there was plenty of time to spend with Kane, and Lee could tell that this man was different. Maybe it was because of his profession, but whatever the reason, Lee felt that Kane understood her in a way that no one else had.

So one thing led to another, and Kane's plan to seduce her finally paid off. And when that took place, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Almost as if they had made love before. And Lee liked that because in the past she had climbed to the top of some romantic mountaintops only to fall into the valley below.

That's why Lee was a little disappointed when the e-mail
arrived. “You have been cleared for a return to duty,” the message said. “So quit goofing off and get your butt in here.” It was from Jenkins.

Kane made dinner and they ate on the deck. This was when Lee realized that she had yet to look at a single apartment. Was this because she'd been so busy putting her life back together? Or was it because some part of her didn't
want
to find a place of her own? And what would that mean? Lee chose to ignore the questions and watch the sun go down.

The next couple of days were busy, but routinely so, until Lee got a call from Kane. “Hey, hon,” he said. “What time will you be home?”

That wasn't unusual since she often ran late—and Kane did most of the cooking. Lee looked at her watch. “I'll be there by five thirty.”

“That's good,” Kane replied. “I thought we'd go out for sushi. I'll make the reservations. See you then.”

The line went dead, and bells began to ring in Lee's head. Kane loved seafood but
hated
sushi. And he never hung up without saying something lovably sappy. What should she do? Ignore her suspicions? Or take them seriously?

You should take them seriously,
the voice inside her answered.
Maybe the Bonebreaker is waiting for you . . . Or maybe Crystal Bye is holding a gun on Kane. Something is wrong.

Shit, shit, shit,
Lee thought to herself as she went to see Wolfe. Would the other policewoman pooh-pooh her concerns? Or take them seriously? Of course Wolfe had been straight up on the Baxter thing—so maybe she'd be equally reliable this time.

The answer came quickly once Wolfe understood the situation. “I'll talk to the SWAT team,” Wolfe said, as she dialed her phone. “They have the resources we need.”

Lee had to agree even though she was still worried about the possibility of a misunderstanding. As Wolfe spoke to Lieutenant Mick Ferris, Lee glanced at her watch. An hour
and a half. That's how much time they had before she was supposed to arrive at the condo. What would happen to Kane if she was late? What if somebody killed him because of
her
? Lee felt sick to her stomach.

“Ferris is on his way,” Wolfe said, as she put the phone down. “Everything needs to look normal. Someone has you under surveillance. So if you leave early, or if you leave late, they'll know.”

That made sense . . . And Lee was reminded of Bye and the helicopter in Las Vegas. “Maybe it's Bye,” Lee put in. “If so, she had a helicopter in the red zone. And there's a pad on the roof of the building that Kane lives in.”

Wolfe swore and placed another call. Then she was back. “Our birds crisscross the city all day. One of them will let me know if a helicopter is sitting on the roof.”

No introductions were required as Ferris entered the office since both women had worked with him in the past. He had a young-old face, a salt-and-pepper buzz cut, and a lean frame. With the seconds ticking away there was no time to waste on small talk. “Tell me everything you know about the building,” Ferris said, “starting with the location. My team is checking to see what's available online.”

Lee gave him the address, a brief description of the building, and mentioned the presence of the structures that flanked it. “Good,” Ferris said. “I'll be back in a sec . . . But first I need to put some people into the neighborhood.”

“We think the perps have the area under surveillance,” Wolfe said tactfully.

“I won't send the war wagon,” Ferris replied, “if that's what you're worried about. My team will infiltrate the area two at a time in civilian clothes. Excuse me . . . I need to get them under way.” And with that Ferris stepped out of the office to use a handheld radio.

“Okay,” Wolfe said. “So let's talk about
your
role—and how this is likely to go down. There are a couple of possibilities. You go home, enter the condo, and someone shoots
you. Or you go home, enter the condo, and he or she talks to you.
Then
the perp shoots you—followed by Kane.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, I feel better now,” Lee said.

Wolfe shrugged. “I'm about keeping it real,” she said. “Since there's no reason to waste time on scenario one—let's talk about scenario two. If they want to talk chances are they will take your weapons—or force you to surrender them.”

“Makes sense,” Lee said, as her spirits continued to fall.

“But,” Wolfe said, as she went over to a steel cabinet, “I'm going to loan you a backup to your backup. I wore it every day when I was undercover.” Keys rattled as Wolfe opened the cabinet and gave Lee a look inside. There were all sorts of weapons in the lieutenant's miniarmory. A collection that probably dated back to the days when Wolfe had been a kick-ass detective.

“
This
is what I had in mind,” Wolfe said, as she withdrew a two-inch-wide hand-tooled belt. Lee noticed that the buckle was a large Western-style oval with a large chunk of turquoise fastened to it. How that might help wasn't apparent until Wolfe pressed the spring-loaded front piece—and it popped open to reveal a tiny derringer. “It's single action, I'm afraid,” Wolfe confessed. “And it fires .22 long rifle cartridges. But something is better than nothing. Try it on.”

Lee removed the one she was wearing, wrapped the new belt around her waist, and discovered that two simple hooks were used to fasten it. And judging from the wear marks Wolfe had the same size waist that she did. Once the rig was secured, Lee tried touching the blue stone with her left hand and grabbing the little revolver with her right. It worked quite well. “Thanks,” Lee said. “I appreciate it.”

“It looks good with jeans,” Wolfe said lightly. “And tee shirts.”

Lee laughed as Ferris entered the room. “So here's how we're going to handle it,” he said. “Lee will leave the building with a cop in the trunk of her sedan. She'll drive home, enter the parking garage, and let him out. That has to happen
smoothly in order to avoid detection—and let's hope there isn't a car right behind hers.

“Lee will park her vehicle and go over to the lift. My officer will arrive separately in case the perp or perps placed a wireless camera down there. The elevator will take them up to three where my guy will get off. Lee will proceed to four. I can't predict what will happen next . . . That will depend on what we hear via the wire Lee will be wearing.”

Lee cleared her throat. “And if they shoot me off the top?”

“We'll make sure they die,” Ferris said grimly. “By the way . . . It turns out that a chopper
is
sitting on the roof of the building. So we put
two
air force gunships on standby. And there's a good chance that Kane is being held by Crystal Bye rather than the Bonebreaker.”

“Okay then,” Lee said grimly. “It'll be nice to see her again.”

Ferris smiled. “We'll have snipers in the surrounding buildings. You described Kane's unit as having large windows. So it may be possible to solve a few problems from afar . . . Hit the deck if we do.”

A tech arrived at that point. She was carrying a mike and transmitter, both of which could be concealed beneath the body armor that Lee was told to put on. “Most cops wear it,” she said. “So no one will be surprised. And you'll need to insert these nostril filters just in case.”

Lee knew the filters were a good idea, but knew it would be damned hard to avoid breathing through her mouth in such a stressful situation, and was worried about Kane's health, too . . . If the mutants were holding him captive Kane was in double jeopardy.

After a few minutes in the nearest restroom Lee emerged ready to go. Or if not ready, then somewhat prepared. At that point all she could do was head down to her car, get in, and drive home. What was it like to make the trip in the trunk? she wondered. It would be dark—like the interior of a coffin. And what about Kane? Was he scared? Was he going to die because of her? If so, they would go out together.

Lee pushed the thought aside as she threaded her way through traffic. It had been a sunny day, but the air was starting to cool, and it would be dark before long. Was that part of Bye's plan? To escape during the hours of darkness?
No, the whole thing will be over before sunset,
she thought to herself as the cluster of condo buildings appeared up ahead. “We're almost there,” she said for the benefit of the man in the trunk. “Get ready.”

Lee eyed the rearview mirror as she turned off the street and steered the car in under the building Kane lived in. There were no vehicles behind her, so she braked and pulled the trunk release. The cop vaulted out of the car with briefcase in hand. There was a thump as he closed the lid—and that was Lee's signal to pull forward. “He's out of the car,” she said for the SWAT team's benefit. “And I'm about to park.”

Lee was as frightened as she'd ever been as she got out of the car. It was one thing to walk into a dicey situation with at least a few advantages and something else to go in with none. Everything was hyperreal. The faint smell of exhaust. The pores in the concrete walls. And the rasp of her own breathing. In fact, the whole experience was so intense, it was like being on some sort of upper.

A glass door swished out of the way as Lee entered the elevator lobby—and the cop with the briefcase appeared seconds later. He smiled and nodded. It was Tanaka! A guy she had worked with before and was a cool customer. A morale booster for sure.

The elevator arrived and the officers got in. They knew it might be bugged and were silent as it rose. A tone sounded as they arrived on three, and Tanaka got off. Lee knew he would report in and struggled to control the way her hands were shaking as the lift stopped on four.

There were four large condos on the “Vista” floor but only two that looked out onto the ocean. Lee turned right and approached Kane's front door. They could see her through the peephole if nothing else. Would someone open the door and jerk her inside? No one did.

What if she was wrong? What if Kane was standing in the kitchen making predinner drinks? Lee inserted the key and gave it a turn to the right. Then she opened the door. That was when hands grabbed Lee, pulled her into the condo, and threw her down. Hands explored her body, found the pistols, and took them. A couple of men hoisted her up onto her feet. Hoods concealed their faces. “She's wearing body armor,” one of them said. “But that's all.”

Crystal Bye stood with her hands at her sides. Both her snow-white hair and her makeup were perfect. And when she smiled Lee saw that her teeth were flawless as well. “Body armor, huh?” the assassin said. “Well, that won't keep me from shooting you in the face, now will it?”

It's option two!
Lee's inner voice chortled.
Stretch it.
“No, it won't,” Lee replied as she took a look around. The place was a mess. It looked as though Kane had put up a fight. Was he still alive? It was as if Bye could read her mind.