Gregg Hurwitz - You're Next

Hank said, ‘We’re gonna steer clear of the sheriff’s department, since we know they’re hooked into the alert. But I found someone for you at LAPD. This is turning into a high-profile case, and I’m banking on the fact that LAPD’ll want to keep it in their court if you go in to them. They’ve got more muscle than sheriff’s.’

‘Who there?’

‘Jason Cayanne, a captain two in the North Hollywood Station.’

‘Can I trust him?’

‘Mike, this man will listen to you. That’s the best you’re gonna get right now. Let this thing go another twenty-four hours and the most you can hope for is a clean jail cell.’

‘I need to know Kat will be safe.’

‘LAPD will protect her better than you can.’

Mike hung up, pressed a fist to the edge of the desk until his knuckles ached. Then he found the Batphone and called Shep. ‘How is she?’

‘A little better. Some movement, pain response. The doc seems excited by that.’

‘Movement. Movement is good. Pain response is good.’ Mike realized he was babbling, chewing his thumb.

‘But she’s not out of the woods. Things could still go south fast.’

Mike swallowed dryly. ‘How about her safety?’

‘They’re letting me stay with her right now,’ Shep said, ‘but visiting hours end at eight.’

‘What are you gonna do?’

‘I’ll figure something out.’

‘Okay.’ Mike took a breath. It seemed inconceivable that he couldn’t be at his wife’s side through this. ‘Can we transfer her?’

‘Doc won’t go for it. Says she’s too unstable. The detectives were here, Markovic and Elzey. They said if you don’t come in by tomorrow morning, you’ll be charged for murder.’

‘ Mur -’ Mike caught himself, lowered his voice. ‘Murder? For that piece of shit who stuck a blade into my wife?’

‘And for attempted murder on Annabel,’ Shep said. Mike felt a surge of rage, but before he could respond, Shep had moved on. ‘They also said Annabel’s old man is trying to take over the medical decisions for her. Something about suing over the proxy. He’s getting on a plane.’

‘So he’d be the one to green-light a surgery?’ Mike said. ‘Or pull the plug? He can’t do that. He can’t do that.’

‘He’s trying.’

Mike looked across at Kat’s zoned-out face, the glow of the TV rippling across her features. She had a red smudge on her chin from fruit juice, and she was sucking a thumb through her shirtsleeve, a habit she’d left behind four years ago. He was barely taking care of her now. How could he take care of her if they were really on the run?

As if reading his thoughts, Shep said, ‘Don’t do it.’

‘This only gets worse.’

‘You’ll be in jail,’ Shep said. ‘Helpless. And Rick Graham, William Burrell, and Roger Drake will be out here.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He hung up. Shep called back immediately, but Mike muted the ringer. Then he rose and started packing up.

Kat asked, ‘Are we going somewhere?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

They loaded up the truck and sat in the parking lot with the engine idling, Mike staring blankly ahead, the dusty windshield muting the early afternoon. Buckled into the passenger seat, Kat watched him; he could sense her keen stare. The rucksack of cash was an olive drab lump at her feet. Snowball II peered out from her fist, halved-marble eyes waiting on his next move. Panic rose in his throat like bile, but he stayed perfectly still, throat bobbing, choking it down. Eventually the heavy gray of the afternoon settled over him, leeching away all emotion, and then he didn’t even feel panic anymore, just the dead, dismal weight of the air he was breathing.

After a time Kat said, ‘What do we do when we’re scared?’

It took him a moment to realize she was going for the Bad-Parenting Game. He couldn’t get his heart into it. ‘I don’t know, Kat.’

More vehemently now. ‘ What do we do when we’re scared ?’

He thought of Annabel lying in that hospital bed, the dark cigar hole between her ribs. His daughter beside him, needing to return to a life he was helpless to get her back to.

‘We curl up into a little ball and surrender,’ he said.

He put the truck in gear and started for the police station.

Mike couldn’t settle his nerves. The instant he stepped into the North Hollywood Station, he was convinced that he’d made a terrible mistake. But it was too late.

A flickering overhead fluorescent seemed to set the ominous tone, casting one edge of the lobby in alternating shades of pale yellow. The desk officer no sooner took in his and Kat’s faces than a back door opened and a uniformed cop appeared to frisk Mike. The guy would find nothing; Mike had left the.357 with the cash in the Toyota across the street. Shep could pick up the rucksack in case he needed money for Annabel.

Hands on the counter, legs spread, Mike made sure to keep murmuring to Kat, ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay.’

She clutched that miniature polar bear like a security blanket.

Before the officer was through with Mike, Captain Jason Cayanne appeared, a virile guy, sinewy and dense of mustache, to apologize for the pat-down. He even crouched and got eye level with Kat to tell her how glad he was that she’d come in.

Cayanne led them upstairs through a warren of hallways and offices. He moved light on his feet, like a dancer or a boxer. The way he took the turns – crisply, on the balls of his feet – said he was former military. The farther back they wound, the more Mike’s apprehension grew. He had to remind himself not to squeeze Kat’s hand too hard lest he hurt her. She glided at his side, silent and trusting. By being here was he breaking his promise to Annabel to get Kat away from all this?

Cayanne kept on, giving no indication that he noticed the sweat popping from Mike’s forehead, until they reached his office. Big wooden desk with facing armchairs, Rotary Club plaques, a striped bass mounted on a piece of driftwood.

Two officers joined them, Mike looking warily from one to the other, searching out signs of betrayal. He sat on an armchair, pulled Kat into his lap, and laced his hands protectively across her stomach.

Cayanne said, ‘Get you a cup of coffee?’

Mike shook his head.

‘Maybe it would be better if Katherine went with Officer Maxwell.’

Mike said, ‘No way.’

Cayanne ran his fingertips thoughtfully through his dense blond mustache. ‘We need to talk about the crime scene, and I think maybe it would be better for her not to have to get tangled up in the details. How about if we put her there’ – he pointed through the glass door to the adjacent detective bullpen – ‘where you can keep an eye on her the whole time?’

Kat started to get out of Mike’s lap, but he didn’t relax his arms. She said, ‘It’s okay, Dad,’ and pulled free.

She settled into a chair in the next room and offered him an encouraging wave. Cayanne was waiting behind the desk, the picture of patience.

‘You made a pretty good run there,’ he said. ‘Blipped off the radar.’

‘There are people after us,’ Mike said. ‘Two ex-cons – Roger Drake and William Burrell, the brother of the man who stabbed my wife.’

Cayanne jotted the names in a black detective’s pad. ‘The brother of the man you killed.’

‘Yes,’ Mike said.

‘I don’t understand. Why are they after you?’

‘I don’t know.’

Cayanne’s clear blue eyes ticked up from the pad and held on Mike’s face for a beat before lowering again.

Mike said, ‘And there’s also at least one person gunning for me who’s inside law enforcement. Rick Graham.’