Racing the Light (Elvis Cole #19; Joe Pike #8)(75)

“A sure sign of age.”

I fitted the smaller ring onto her finger.

“Looks good.”

“I know. I’ve practiced wearing it.”

We grinned at each other some more.

“I’ve missed this, me and you, like this.”

She nodded.

“Yes. It’s been too long. Much too long.”

“Look forward, not back. Always move forward.”

“Yes, Joe.”

We just stood there, holding each other and grinning at each other. It was great.

Ben tapped the glass. When we looked, he spread his arms wide, beseeching, telling us he was starving.

Lucy laughed.

“I guess we should feed him.”

“And me. I’ll need fuel.”

My phone buzzed as we stepped through the door. The call window showed wvann. I showed Lucy.

“The Schumachers.”

I didn’t want to answer, but I answered.

Wendy Vann said, “Here’s Adele.”

Lucy and Ben were watching as Adele came on the line. She was upset and shouting.

“He’s gone. They took Ryan’s car and their things and he left. Please! Bring him home again. Please, Mr. Cole. Before he gets himself killed.”

Lucy touched my arm and whispered.

She said, “Go. If you get shot I’ll kill you.”





54





In Your Face with Josh Shoe



Josh and Ryan studied Rachel’s apartment house from Ryan’s car. The dark-haired bitch was on the lawn reading a magazine.

Ryan said, “She’ll see you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What if it’s gone?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Josh knew Ryan was nervous. Josh was nervous, too, but Rachel had trusted him and believed in him and, in a way, made him believe he mattered. He looked at Ryan.

“I can drop you off after. You don’t have to do this.”

“It’s my show, too.”

“In your face.”

“Bringing the truth—”

“—the mainstream media hides.”

They’d been saying some version of this to each other since seventh grade.

Josh piled out of Ryan’s car and powered up the walk, carrying a bright green duffel rolled like a log. The girl on the lawn saw him coming and smirked. She always smirked when she saw him and made cracks about his size, so Josh knew it was coming.

“The police were here. Skylar’s dead. Somebody killed her.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did you roll over and crush her?”

“Where’s your friend, looking for a better roommate?”

The crime scene tape was gone. The police had finished their work and left Rachel’s place to her family and the landlord. Josh knew what he wanted and hoped it hadn’t been moved. He unrolled the duffel, covered the sidelight, and broke the glass. He reached through and groped around until he found the locks.

The place had been cratered like Cole said. Her art supplies and tables and cabinets had been tipped over, but her canvases remained stacked along the walls. The police probably felt they weren’t relevant. Morons.

The shelves lined with cans of spray paint were intact. A bright gold key and a small paper name tag hung by a purple string from a hook on the right side of the cabinet. Josh had seen her hang the key on the hook when she told him about Locke and Richter and the cash she’d found in Grady Locke’s loft. She’d also found a spare key to Locke’s loft. This was the key. The card contained the entry code to Locke’s building.

Josh took the key and searched through the canvases. Some were finished paintings and others were works in progress. When he found the painting he wanted, he fitted it into the supersize duffel and left.

The dark-haired girl was gone.

They loaded the canvas into Ryan’s backseat and blasted off for downtown L.A. Ryan snickered as he raced the close of business hours.

Ryan said, “This is so frickin’ cool.”

Josh miked up and decided what he wanted to say.

“No talking.”

Ryan gave a thumbs-up. Josh hit the record button.

“This is Josh Shoe. Stand back, sit down, and stick around as I get . . . In Your Face.”

Ryan shook his head.

“No, no. Way too seventies. Do it again.”

Josh thought some more and started again.

“Josh Shoe, recording on the streets of Los Angeles. Rachel Bohlen, who was also known as Skylar Lawless, was murdered while seeking the truth. The voice you’re about to hear is that of Skylar herself, who will tell you how she came to be murdered. She will name the people who killed her. Listen.”

Josh stopped.

“Well?”

“Not bad. A little long, but we can use it as a lead-in to her first clip.”

Josh checked the time.

“Drive faster.”

The Sandman’s council website listed three offices, one in City Hall and two in Richter’s district. Grady Locke, being Richter’s chief of staff, would have offices at each location. When they were ten minutes from Grady Locke’s loft, Josh phoned the City Hall office, identified himself as a segment producer for CNN, and asked to speak with Locke. Two transfers later, a deputy communications director told him Locke could be reached at their district office. This was good news. With Locke on the far side of town, they had more time.