Robert Crais - Sunset Express

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When a wealthy L.A. restaurateur is accused of murdering his wife, his attorney hires Elvis Cole to find proof that police detective Angela Rossi fooled around with the evidence. As Elvis investigates, he becomes more suspicious of the lawyers than the cops.

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Rossi said, 'The other guy is probably one of Kerris's security people.'

Pike jerked the Jeep into a drive and did a fast reversal. I said, 'Did they make us?'

Pike shook his head. The Aerostar turned a far corner, but it hadn't increased its speed, and its driving seemed even. We went after them, Pike hanging back. In cases like this there are always two choices: You can let them know that you're there, or you can hide from them. If they know that you're there they might get nutty and start shooting. As long as they're not shooting, you're better off. Louise Earle and Walter Lawrence would be better off, too. Rossi unfastened her seat belt and leaned forward between me and Joe, better to see. 'Don't crowd them, Joseph. Let's give them room.'

Pike pursed his lips. 'I know, Angela.' Nothing like a backseat driver in a pursuit situation.

Rossi got on her phone again and told Tomsic where we were and what we were doing. She didn't cut the circuit this time, but kept up a running flow of information so that Tomsic knew where we were at all times. I said, 'Can he get in front of them?'

'No. He's west of the hills and behind us. He's calling in more black-and-whites.'

I glanced at Rossi, but she seemed impassive. The brass would know now, for sure.

We followed the van down out of the residential area onto Stacker Boulevard, then started climbing again almost at once, leaving the residential area behind as we wound our way through dry, undeveloped hills dotted with oil pumpers and radio towers. I had hoped that they would turn into the city, but they didn't. They were heading into a barren place away from prying eyes.

We followed them deeper into the hills, staying well back, catching only glimpses of their dust trail so that we wouldn't be seen, and as the peaks rose around us Rossi's cell phone connection became garbled and our link to Tomsic was broken. She tossed the phone aside. 'I lost him.'

Pike said, 'He knows about where we are.'

'About.'

Maybe a half mile ahead of us the van turned up the side of a hill along a gravel service road, making its way toward two great radio towers. We could see the towers, and what was probably a maintenance shed at their bases, and another car parked there. I said, 'They're going to kill them. They couldn't kill them at the house with so many people on the street, but they're going to do them here.'

Rossi craned her head out the window. 'If we take the road up after them, they'll see us coming a mile away.'

Pike slapped the Jeep into four-wheel drive, and we left the road, heading first down into a gully, then up. We lost sight of the towers and the van, but we watched the ridgeline and followed the slope of hills and we did what we could until we came to an elevated pipeline that we could not cross. Pike said, 'Looks like we're on foot.'

Pike and I were wearing running shoes, but Angela Rossi was wearing dress flats. I said, 'Going to be a hard run.'

She said, 'Fuck it.'

She threw her jacket into the backseat, took her Browning from its holster, then kicked off her shoes and set out at a jog. Barefoot. The ground was rough and bristling with stiff dried grass and foxtails and must have hurt, but she gave no sign.

The hill was steep and the going was slow. The soil was loose and brittle, and the dessicated grass did not help bind it together. Our feet sunk deep and every step caused a minor landslide, but halfway up the hill we saw the tops of the towers, and pretty soon after that the roof of the shed. We went down to our hands and knees and eased our way to the ridge. The Aerostar was parked next to a bronze Jaguar. Kerris was already out of the van and moving toward the shed. He'd left the van's driver side door open. The same black security guard I'd seen at Green's party came out of the shed. The van's side door slid open and a younger guy with a very short crew cut pushed out. Walter Lawrence climbed out after him, but I guess he wasn't moving fast enough because the crew cut took his arm and yanked, and Mr Lawrence stumbled sideways to fall in a little cloud of dust. The black guy ignored all of that and opened the Jag's trunk to lift out two shovels and a large roll of plastic. Rossi said, 'They're going to execute these people.'

Pike said, 'Yes.'

I edged higher on the ridge. 'They'll bring them inside the building. Maybe we can work our way around to the backside of the slope and come up behind the building without being seen.' I didn't think Kerris would just shoot them in the open, even out here in the middle of nowhere.

Pike started backwards with Rossi behind him when the crew cut leaned into the van and said something to Louise Earle. I guess she didn't want to get out, because he reached in and pulled. He had her by the upper arm and it must've hurt. She tried swatting at him like you might a fly, but it did no good. That's when Walter Lawrence scrambled up out of the dust and grabbed the crew cut's jacket and tried pulling him away. Defending his woman. The crew cut guy put a hand on Walter Lawrence's face and pushed. Walter Lawrence flailed backwards and fell again, landing flat on his back, and the crew cut guy took a steel Smith &. Wesson 9mm from beneath his left arm, pointed it at Walter Lawrence, and fired one shot.

The shot sounded hollow and faraway, and Mrs Earle screamed just as Elliot Truly stepped out of the maintenance shed.

CHAPTER 34

Pike worked the Python out of his waist holster and pushed it in front him, lining up on the crew cut.

Rossi said, 'We're too far.'

'If they point a gun at her, Joe.' Ignoring Rossi.

'I'm on it.'

Rossi said, 'Can he make this shot?'

We were more than a hundred yards from them. It was a very long shot for a four-inch barrel, but Pike could brace his hand on the ground, and he was the finest pistol shot I've ever seen.

Truly waved his arms, raising hell with Kerris and the guy with the crew cut, and the guy with the crew cut put away his gun. Truly did some more waving, then went back into the maintenance shed. Kerris raised hell with the crew cut too, then he and the black guy lifted Mrs Earle by the arms and dragged her past Walter Lawrence's body to the shed. The crew cut went over to the shovels and plastic, and didn't look happy about it.

I said, 'We don't have much time.'

We crabbed back down beneath the ridgeline and trotted around the side of the hill until we had the maintenance shed between us and the van. The shed was at the base of the north tower, and its structure formed a kind of latticework around the shed and would provide cover between the shed and the Jaguar. We moved fast, but with every passing second I was frightened that we'd hear the second shot. I guess we could've just started yelling and let them know we were here, but they had already committed murder; Mrs Earle would probably catch the first shot.

When the shed was between us and the van, we crept up the hill to the rear of the base of the north radio tower. I said, 'Rossi and I will take the shed. You take the guy at the van.'

Pike slipped away to the edge of the shed, then disappeared among the girders at the base of the radio tower.

I looked at Rossi. 'You ready?'

She nodded. Her stockings were shredded, her feet torn and bleeding and clotted with dirt and little bits of brown grass. Her nice suit pants were ripped.

The maintenance shed was a squat cinderblock and corrugated metal building built against the base of the north tower. Inside, there would be tools and parts and paint for maintaining the towers and adjusting the repeater antennas. There were no windows, but doors were built into the front and back. Truly had probably been here for a while and had opened the doors for the air. The door nearest the cars was wide and tall so you could move oversized parts and equipment in and out, but the rear door, the door by the tower, was a people door.

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