Sue Grafton - L is for Lawless

The fire engines were pulled up at the hotel entrance, where clusters of evacuated hotel guests were milling about. The night sky was a fervent yellow, choked by columns of white smoke where the fire and the water from the hoses came into contact. At the side of the building, two sprays of water crossed in midair like a pair of klieg lights. Parts of the hotel were completely engulfed by fire, glass crashing, flames curling up as a cloud of black smoke rolled out. The portion of the driveway that I could see was blocked by the fire trucks and fire hoses, emergency vehicles flashing strobes of amber light. Overhead, a helicopter hovered where a local news team was taking pictures, reporting live at the scene.

I found Ray's car keys in my blazer pocket and let myself into his rental. I started the engine and flipped the heater on. My clothes were soaked, water still trickling down my face from the hair plastered to my head. I knew I smelled of smoke, wet wool, wet denim, and damp socks. The Texas night was cold, and I could feel myself being overtaken by a bone-deep shivering. I let the engine warm up. The car was a "full-size" Ford: a four-door automatic, white with a red interior. I threw the gears into reverse and backed out of the slot, scanning the empty parking lot for signs of Gilbert.

I left my headlights off as I eased along the perimeter of the lot toward the far side. The exit was blocked by a cop with a flashlight, forcing traffic to detour. I picked a spot along a row of hedges and drove across the curb, forcing the car through the thickly growing bushes. I emerged on the access road about a hundred yards beyond the roadblock. The officer probably saw me, but there was not much that he could do. He had his hands full directing all the carloads of rubber-neckers. I turned right on the road leading back to the main highway. As I passed the miniature stone castle, I slowed, giving my horn a quick beep. Ray and Laura emerged hurriedly from the shadows, Ray toting the three bags, loaded down like a pack mule. Laura still wore the phony harness in front, the eight thousand dollars borne against her belly like an infant. The illusion of pregnancy was so convincing that Ray hovered protectively. I heard the trunk pop open, followed by the thumping impact as Ray flung the bags in the back and banged the lid down. He opened the door on the passenger side front and slid onto the seat next to me while Laura let herself in the back. I put my foot on the gas and took off with a chirp, anxious to put distance between us and the enemy.

Ray said, "We didn't think you'd show. We were just about to take off on foot." He turned around, peering through the rear window at the burning hotel behind us. "Gilbert did that?"

"One assumes," I said.

"Of course he did," Laura said peevishly. "He was probably waiting out front, ready to pick us off as we came through the revolving doors."

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Like Ray, she had turned to peer back at the fire. The glow on the horizon varied from blood red to salmon, a white cloud billowing where the water from the fire hoses turned to steam. "It's a hell of a blaze. How'd he manage it without accelerants?"

"Give him credit. The guy's resourceful. He's quick on his feet and he's good at improvisation," she said.

Ray turned to face forward, reaching for his seat belt, which he snapped into place. I saw him glance at me again, checking my bedraggled state. I felt like a dog left in the backyard during a sudden rain. He leaned sideways on his seat, pulling out a handkerchief that he passed me. Gratefully, I mopped at the trickles of water running down my face. "Thanks."

"You going back to the airport?"

"Not looking like this. Besides, I've already missed my… Shit!" I realized with a jolt that I'd left my plane tickets in the shoulder bag I'd abandoned. I patted my blazer pockets, but there wasn't any point. I couldn't believe it. Of all things. In my haste, I'd simply missed the airline envelope. If I'd just grabbed the ticket or, better yet, held on to the bag itself. Now all I owned were the odds and ends I carried on my person. I was nearly sick with regret. The plane ticket represented not only my return home, but most of my liquid assets. I banged on the steering wheel. "Goddamn it," I said.

Laura leaned forward against the front seat. "What's wrong?"

"I left my plane ticket back there."

"Uh-oh. Well, it's gone now," she said, stating the obvious with what looked like a smirk. If I hadn't been at the wheel, I'd have leapt in the backseat and bitten her.

Ray must have seen the expression that crossed my face. "Where we headed?" he asked, probably hoping to avoid a rabies quarantine.

"I don't even know where we are," I groused.

I pointed to the glove compartment. "You got a map in there?"

He opened the glove compartment, which was empty except for the rental car contract and a whisk broom with chewed-looking bristles. He snapped it shut and checked the passenger door pocket. I slid a hand into the pocket on my side, coming up with assorted papers, one a neatly folded map of the United States. Ray grunted with satisfaction and flipped on the overhead light. Spread out, the crackling map took up most of the available space. "Looks like you need to keep an eye out for U.S. 30 heading northeast."

"Where to?"

Laura glanced over at him. "I bet to Louisville, right?"

He turned to her. "You got a problem with that?"

"Gilbert's not a fool, Ray. Where you think he's going?"

"So the guy goes to Louisville. Who gives a shit? We're talking about a twelve-hour drive. He's never going to figure out which route we took."

"Listen, Einstein. There's only one" she said.

"Can't be. That's bullshit. There must be half a dozen," he said.

She reached over and snatched the map away. "You been in prison too long." I could hear her flap the map noisily in the backseat, refolding it while she found the section showing Dallas and points east. "Look at this. There's maybe one other way to go, but 30's the obvious choice. All Gilbert has to do is drive like a maniac and get there first."

"How's he going to find us? Once we get to town, we'll take a couple motel rooms and use fictitious names. Pay cash and call ourselves anything we want. Isn't that what you did?"

"Yeah, and look what happened. Kinsey found me in no time flat. So did Gilbert, for that matter."

"It was a fluke. Finding you was pure accident. Ask her," he said.

"I wouldn't call it a fluke," I said, taking offense.

"You know what I mean. The point is, it's not like you deduced what she was calling herself and tracked her down from that. All you did was follow her, right?"

"Yeah, but what about Gilbert? How'd he manage it?" I asked.

Ray shrugged. "He probably persuaded Farley to spill the beans."

From the backseat, Laura moaned. "Oh, jeez. Is that true? I hadn't thought about that. You think Farley's okay?"

"I can't worry about that right now," Ray said.

I glanced back at Laura, still in charge of the map. "What's the nearest big town between here and there?"

Laura checked the map again. "We get to Texarkana first and then Little Rock. After that it's Memphis, then Nashville, and straight on up. Why?"

"Because I'm heading home. We'll take a side trip to the airport in Little Rock and I'll catch a plane."

"What about your ticket?" Ray asked.

"I'll call a friend of mine. He'll help."

Laura said, "In the meantime, how about a pit stop before I wet my pants?"

"Sounds good to me," Ray said.

I watched the highway signs until I spotted an off-ramp that boasted the international symbols for food and potty chairs. Half a block off the road, we found a poorly lighted independent gas station with a cafe attached. Even Gilbert wasn't canny enough to ferret us out here. The gas tank was still very close to full, so I bypassed the pumps and parked off to one side, away from the street. Ray headed for the men's room while Laura opened the trunk and pulled out her duffel bag. "You can borrow my dress."