Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(78)

She gave a shaky laugh. “For the magic, anytime. But no more surgery, please.”

“Deal.” I ran up the stairs.

Corry.


By the time I got to Eli’s truck, I realized I had no idea where to go. Corry and her family were staying at a Holiday Inn, but I didn’t know which one. And Hess had a head start, too. I called Will, updated him on Eli, and asked for Corry’s phone number, which was still in my cell phone back at Kirsten’s. Then I called Corry’s cell, which at least rang this time. When it went to voice mail, I punched End and immediately redialed. This time she answered on the fourth ring.

“Hello?” Her voice was cautious and hushed, probably trying not to wake her family.

“It’s Scarlett. Where are you?” I said abruptly.

“Hi! Um, I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell you where—”

“Corry, he got away. I tried to stop him, but he figured out what was going on, and he’s coming for you. He knows where you are, do you understand? Tell me and I’ll come get you.”

“Oh God. It’s the Holiday Inn in Burbank, off Colorado Boulevard.”

I cursed and started the truck’s engine, pulling away from the little house. Dumb f*cking luck. If I was in Glendale, that was five minutes away. How long had it taken Kirsten to get the bullet out of Eli’s shoulder?

More than five minutes.

“Corry, listen to me. He’s gonna be there any second. Get your family up and take them to the lobby, somewhere with a lot of people, okay? Go now.”

Before she could answer me, I heard a pounding on her end of the phone, and she gave a surprised little yelp. “Scarlett, he’s here. He’s trying to get in. Oh, God help us—”

“Corry? Corry!” I yelled into the phone, feeling helpless. Then the sounds stopped, and I checked the screen. Disconnected. I called 911 and directed the operator to the Holiday Inn, hanging up when she tried to ask questions. The police would be too late. And Corry and her family would be no match for Jared Hess when he was loaded for bear like that.

I picked a direction and stayed with it until I hit a major street. At a stoplight, I closed my eyes and conjured up my mental map of Los Angeles. I found the freeway and took the east exit toward Pasadena.

Then I called Jesse.





Chapter 31


After about four seconds, Jesse had realized that it wasn’t as simple as storming over to Sanderson’s bait shop and arresting him. First, he didn’t even know whether Sanderson—Hess, he corrected—actually had Scarlett or whether he’d be in a position to kill her if Jesse sent in the cavalry. He’d already asked a police cruiser that had been in the area to drive past the bait shop, and they’d reported that the lights were all out and there were no parked cars in the lot or on the street in front of the building. It was likely that Hess was working from somewhere else, anyway. Jesse knew he had to slow down and think it through, that this was the moment when cops who were emotionally invested made serious mistakes, but he couldn’t help the panic.

Think like a cop, he told himself. Even if he did get Hess, what then? Jesse didn’t have a speck of evidence linking him to the La Brea Park case. If he really did have Scarlett, then Jesse might be able to get him on kidnapping charges, but that was assuming he could find them. He needed to bring the bad guy to the cops, and he needed Dashiell to know they had the right man in custody.

At eleven, he got sick of waiting and hopped in his car, heading toward the bait shop. On the way, he stopped at an all-night drugstore and bought a new car charger for the cell phone. When the phone booted up, he looked for messages, but there was nothing. He called Scarlett’s phone again, but it was still turned off.

The cruiser had been right about the cars—not only was the strip mall’s small lot empty, but the street on either side of it as well. Jesse parked in front of the bait shop—screw subtlety—and went right up and knocked on the door. He cupped his hands around his eyes to peer into the shop. Darkness. In the red glow of the emergency exit light, he could barely make out the different stands of merchandise, but that was about it. No lights under closed doors, no signs of life at all. Jesse thought back to his and Scarlett’s visit to the shop. There had been only one back door, which led through the fireproof door to the little hallway. The office had been the only other door on the hallway, and then it had led straight to an exit. Jesse got into his car and circled around the building. He found the emergency exit door and checked for lights underneath. Nothing.

Jesse had just gotten back into his car when the phone rang, still plugged into the car charger. He grabbed too fast, fumbled it, and had to rescue it from the floor of the car.

“Cruz,” he barked, breathless.

“Jesse, it’s me.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God. Where the hell have you been? Listen, I know who did it. Jared Hess became—”

“Aaron Sanderson, I know.” Scarlett filled him in on the kidnapping, including her rescue and Jared Hess’s plans for Beatrice.

“You’re okay, though? Is Eli going to be okay?” Although they both seemed to like the same girl, Jesse didn’t want to wish the guy any actual harm. Even with the whole I can’t involve you bit.

“I am, and he will be.”

“I can have the cops at Dashiell’s in five minutes,” he said.