L A Woman Page 11

  There were a couple of smaller, longer tracks below the forehead and on each side of the nose smear, looking like raindrops had hit and run down the glass. But they weren’t all over the glass, just here, below where Magilla’s face had been. They were cloudy, not clear, and the two tracks paralleled down the glass, leaving a dried trail to where the drops finally stopped and evaporated.

  I touched my index finger to my tongue, then to the dried drop, then to my tongue again. Salt.

  Magilla Sykes, the most terrifying, fearsome human being I had ever seen in my life, was crying while he watched Hondo and Jett.

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered.

  I thought about telling Hondo, but knew that if I did he would go after Magilla because Sykes proved he was able to get that close to Jett, and Hondo hadn’t noticed him.

  Magilla frightened me. The only man I’ve ever met whose mere physical presence intimidated the crap out of me. So I decided. I wasn’t going to let my great friend risk his life if he didn’t have to.

  I smoothed out the tracks, found the water hose and squirted the window. While I was doing it, Hondo opened the door and looked at me.

  “You feeling horticultural this morning?” He asked.

  “Yep, Ronny Baca, Green-Thumb Detective, that’s me.”

  I acted as if I was going to squirt him and he jerked back and chuckled, “Hey now.”

  Jett’s head appeared under Hondo’s arm, “Morning Ronny.”

  Man, she was beautiful. Maybe it was the combination of her physical beauty and the freshness of her youth combined with the intelligence and thoughtfulness in her eyes. Whatever the combination was, she was striking.

  She said, “I put on coffee. It should be ready.”

  I trotted toward the faucet to turn off the water and said, “Don’t let Hondo drink all of it before I get there.”

  “Better hurry, then,” she said.

  Marcus came into the kitchen yawning and scratching his shoulder. He looked at us sitting around the table with our cups and said, “You save me any?”

  “Sure,” Jett said. She pointed to an insulated carafe. “I made some more and put it in there.”

  “Bless you, child.”

  I said, “What did Emma think of my running scene?”

  Marcus said, “Didn’t you watch TV last night?”

  “No. I saw you had TiVo.”

  “The political announcement was in our time slot. We didn’t air last night.”

  “So it’ll air tonight?”

  “Emma said it will unless we get something else with the bus station scene.”

  Hondo said, “So she’s for it?”

  Marcus said, “Kind of.”

  I said, “What’s that mean?”

  Marcus said, “I told her you wanted to shoot some background as you explained what happened, like walking through a battle site and telling how things occurred step by step.”

  “And?”

  “She said that was a lame excuse, that she could see right through it.”

  I said, “She say anything else?”

  “Uh-huh, she said she knew…and I’m just the messenger here, that it’s all Ronny’s idea because Hondo would never try to deceive her.”

  I said, “Heck, I can’t argue with that.”

  Marcus said, “So, what now?”

  I’d been thinking about how easily Magilla found us, and how easy it would be for Ajax and John Wesley and his crew--if they weren’t teamed with Magilla--to find us, too. So I said, “We need to move stakes and go to Emma’s, stay with her until we convince her we have to do this.”

  I was expecting an argument. It didn’t happen. Hondo said, “Okay.”

  Marcus said, “I’ll stay here. Call and let me know how it goes.”

  **

  Hondo said, “Take Sunset to Malibu.” Emma lives in the Colony.”

  I said, “You going to call and let her know we’re coming?”

  “Probably better if we surprise her with this.”

  I figured that was right. Just then, my cell phone rang. It showed: Gaylord’s Magic Auto Repair.

  Gaylord said, “Ronny, I finally got your pickup repaired. Can you pick it up today? I’m crowded for space over here.” I put him on speaker so Hondo could hear and I wouldn’t have to repeat things.

  I said, “We can head that way now.”

  “Good, and when you come, go by the train depot and ask them to order me another trainload of Bond-O. After working on your pickup, Bond-O stock went up sixty percent. Long as you’re around that’s where the bulk of my portfolio will stay.”

  “Ha-ha, funny man. See you in about an hour.”

  “Bring an armored truck. You’ll need that much money,” And he hung up.

  When we got to the repair shop, Shamu was waiting out front, looking pristine and perfect. There was no evidence of any bullet holes anywhere. Hondo parked the GTO in back and he and Jett came out the front with Gaylord.

  I gave him a check and he folded it and put it in his shirt pocket, then gave me the keys to Shamu. He said, “Try, please try to keep her out of harm’s way for a day at least.”

  “I doubt that you’ll ever see Shamu in here again. It was just a freak accident this time.”

  “Oohh, suuure. Well, she should run a little better now. I tuned her up for you, no charge. I’ll say one thing, your pickup can get up and boogie.”

  “Thanks, Gaylord.” He went inside the shop and we crawled into Shamu, with Jett in the middle.

  As we pulled out and headed toward Emma’s, Jett said, “What a great truck.” I liked her, I really, really liked her.

  **

  Finding a place to park in Malibu is no easy thing, but we got around it by dropping Hondo off at Emma’s home and driving around until he came to the street and let us in the gated parking area. We got out and followed Hondo to the door. I could hear music inside.

  Emma opened the door and greeted us wearing only the bottom part of a thong bikini. “Come in,” she said. She led us down the hall and I have to say that watching her walk was a treat.

  In the living room there were a half-dozen beautiful women sitting or standing around, all with bloody marys and hand-rolled doobies. They were all topless. Ah yes, Hollywood.

  “Don’t step on your tongue,” Hondo said to me.

  Emma looked at Jett, “So, this is our mystery girl.”

  Hondo said, “Her name is Jett Sunday.”

  The other women came over as he talked and introduced themselves to the three of us. Emma said, “In case you’re wondering, we’re a support group for each other and we use our hands and eyes to check each others’ bodies for any flaws and we note them for correction. It’s helped make us what we are,” she said and smiled.

  My hand shot up, “I’ll be happy to help. I’ve got good hands, sensitive fingers.”

  Emma made that snorting, hiccupping sound and said to the six-foot blond beside her, “I told you he was just so funny, didn’t I?”

  The blond came over and gave me a big hug and a tweak on the cheek. “You said he was funny; you didn’t say he was so good looking.”

  I could barely hear her because of the blood rushing in my ears. It was all I could do not to run around on all fours howling at the moon. I have the strength of ten, I have the strength of ten, I kept repeating to myself.

  Emma said to Hondo, “Have you found out why they’re chasing her?”

  “I haven’t told them,” Jett said. I raised my eyebrows, then realized she was doing it for Emma’s benefit. Smart, very smart.

  Emma said, “Well?” There seemed to be a little jealousy there, I thought.

  “I’ll tell them, and you, but someplace private. Everyone here doesn’t need to know.”

  “And why not? These are my friends and I trust them.”

  “If they don’t know anything, the people chasing me won’t kill them.”

  Emma looked like she swallowed a golf ball. She regained some of her composure and said, “Ma
ybe you’re right.”

  Emma led us to the master bedroom so we could talk with Jett in private. I lingered in the living room as long as I could before Hondo said, “I’m going to throw cold water on you if you don’t come on.”

  Jett sat on the bed with Hondo while Emma and I sat in white wicker chairs. Hondo said, “Jett, we can get you out of LA, get you to a safe place.”

  “I can’t leave.”

  Hondo looked at her face a good five seconds before saying, “We aren’t going to let anybody hurt you, no matter whether you stay in town or not.”

  “I can’t pay you.”

  “It’s not about money.”

  Jett’s eyes teared, but she fought them back. She said, “It’s a long story.”

  I piped up, just to let them know I was in the room, “We love long stories.”

  She looked at Emma and said, “Some of this is not going to sound real.”

  Emma said, “I’m a good listener. Try me.”

  Jett took a deep breath and began.

  **

  When Jett finished her story, Emma said, “How did you come to have the bus locker key?” So she was a good listener.

  Jett said, “I returned to the house where we’d lived before Dad was killed. I hadn’t been there since that day.”

  “Leaving quickly like that probably saved your life,” I said.

  Jett nodded, “Yeah. I was careful when I went back. I entered the house through the back door and didn’t find anything there that Dad had left, but I didn’t want to leave. I hung around for a bit, then looked out the window at the cactus garden in the back yard that he had planted when we moved there. I went outside, checked the water and found it was still on, so I watered the plants and as I was doing it, I noticed something on the barrel cactus.”

  She rearranged herself, then continued, “I knelt beside it and saw a thin copper wire extending from one of the golf ball sized holes in the cactus.”

  Emma asked, “Holes?”

  “Uh-huh, birds make them.” She continued, “The wire was only as long as the spines, so it was well hidden. Anyhow, I pulled on it and the key was attached to the end of the wire. That’s how I got it.”

  “Did you know what it was for?” Emma asked.

  “I knew it was a commercial locker of some kind from the number on it, but didn’t know where until I found the address at the Marmont. That led me to the bus station.”

  “Where we can set up cameras and film the walk through to provide cover for you to get into the locker,” Emma said.

  Hondo said, “Yep.”

  Emma nodded, “But the problem is that we, meaning the audience won’t be able to see what’s inside.”

  “Jett’s life is in danger, Emma.”

  I said, “But we’ll record it so you can use it later, when she’s safe.”

  Emma thought a moment, “Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow. Now, I’ll let you all decide where you want to sleep tonight. We can talk some more after I say good night to my friends. Jett, why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the guest room that overlooks the ocean. You can use it tonight.”

  “Thanks,” Jett said.

  I rose up from my seat to follow Emma’s long, tanned legs out of the room, but Hondo grabbed my arm. He said, “Uh-uh, Casanova. We need to talk some things over, alone.”

  “But--”

  “No buts. I’m sure that now you know the address, you’ll drop in again sometime to, oh…help them out.”

  “Great idea,” I said.

  Hondo continued, “At the bus station there are going to be bad guys there, and they know what you look like, so you can’t be inside.”

  I said, “Of course I can. I’ll wear a disguise.”

  “A disguise.”

  “Sure.”

  Hondo said, “I know I shouldn’t ask…”

  “A black guy with a big boombox, like Gene Wilder did in that old movie with Richard Pryor. We watched the DVD a couple of months ago at your house, remember? Silver Streak. A classic.”

  “You want to go as a seventies black man.”

  “I’ve got natural rhythm.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay then, Smarty, what do you suggest?”

  “Anything but the black guy.”

  “Anything? Really?”

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s all good. It’ll be a big surprise.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. Let me ask this: Would you give some thought to what might be best for Jett, and maybe about you and Jett being somewhere else tomorrow? Nearby, but not inside. Just think about it, I trust you.”

  I said, “I guess…well…I guess she’d probably be safer.”

  “If you think so.”

  “Crap, I hate it when you’re right.”

  Hondo placed his hand on the back of my neck and said, “You are so wise in these matters.”

  “Uh-huh, sure. But it really was gonna be a great disguise.”

  “I have no doubt.”

  CHAPTER 14

  We turned Shamu down an alley just beyond a huge, electric-blue boom lift they were using to work on the phone lines. Some people call them cherry pickers, but I call them by their proper name: boom lifts. I’m a little like the character Karl in Slingblade in that respect. Hondo, when he’s grumpy says for me not to sell myself short, that I have a lot more than that in common with Karl.

  I maneuvered the big Ford 250 around what seemed like twenty dumpsters in the alley, and I parked near the other end so Jett and I could use our binoculars to scope out the bus station. We watched the TV crew go inside, then five minutes later, we hit pay dirt.

  Three men left the bus station as three other men approached. All six looked like they could be a group of inbred cousins. The three going into the station nodded at the others as they passed. Bad Guy shift change. “There are our three bozos from the other day, going inside,” I said.

  “Good to see two of them still limping,” Jett said. Yes sir, I liked this girl.

  I said, “I’m surprised they aren’t in a wheelchair as hard as Magilla hit them.”

  Jett put down her binoculars and said, “That’s the big guy you were telling me about, right?”

  “Yeah, about the size of a rhino, but faster and meaner.”

  Jett said, “I remember once when I was about fourteen or so, Dad met some really big man one night. I’d been asleep but woke up and heard them talking, so I went to the living room and peeked in. They were mostly in shadow, but the big man caught my movement. He looked at me a second, then smiled.”

  “I’d have wet my pants about then,” I said.

  “I was scared when I saw how big he was, but when he smiled, it was warm, you know?”

  “What did you do?”

  “I went back to bed.”

  “Ever see him again?”

  “Yeah, every once in a while, but we never talked or anything, just him and Dad.”

  “Did you ask your Dad about him?”

  “Uh-huh. Dad said he was a young kid, an orphan that was lonely and he’d helped him out a few times.”

  “A young kid?”

  “Dad said he suffered from pituitary gigantism and acromegaly, the same diseases as the wrestler Andre the Giant. Dad said he was only a few years older than me.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?”

  “Maybe two years ago. But Dad mentioned him about six months ago.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said the boy was in with some bad people.”

  “Did your dad call him Magilla?”

  “No, he never told me the boy’s name. He’d say, ‘Remember that big boy?’ and I’d know who he was talking about.”

  There was movement at the bus station so I raised my binoculars. Hondo and Emma went inside the station. I talked into Hondo’s earphone, “Three bogeys twelve o’clock high.”

  Hondo’s voice came out of the speaker I’d
put on the dash, “Things copacetic in your location?”

  “Roger Wilco.”

  “This shouldn’t take long, but keep your eyes open.”

  “That’s a big ten-four, Rubber Ducky.”

  I saw movement in my rearview mirror and watched as a trash truck pulled into the alley. It hooked onto one of the big dumpsters, lifted it up, then backed out of the alley and moved out of sight. Several minutes later Hondo’s voice came over the speaker, “Got it.”

  “Time to boogie, then,” I said, and started Shamu.

  Right then the trash truck pulled into the alley in front of us, still holding the dumpster in front of it. The truck stopped.

  I started to back up and saw another trash truck coming into the alley behind us. It picked up another dumpster and came towards us. I glanced forward and saw the front truck was coming, too.

  Jett said, “We need to leave the pickup. Now.”

  The trucks lowered the dumpsters so they could be used as rams, and both came at us, in no hurry. They were so large and the alley so narrow and filled with dumpsters and trash that there was no way past them.

  I pulled my .45 and talked into the mike, “Come running.”

  Hondo’s voice came over the speaker as we exited the pickup, “Front sight, Ronny, front sight, front sight, front sight.”

  We exited the pickup and I motioned Jett to an area beyond the pickup where we both looked for an escape. There was no place to go. The garbage trucks came on, now scooting other dumpsters and trash ahead of them. We moved away from Shamu as the mass reached it and the pickup moved backward, then sideways and dumpsters rolled down and crashed into it, shattering the windshield and gouging huge rents into the hood and roof. Shamu became part of the rolling metal wall and its protest noises joined the dumpsters in a rumbling, screeching sound so loud I had to yell at Jett.

  “Get ready!” I aimed at the driver coming up the rear of the alley and watched him lay over in the seat, out of sight. The truck still moved forward. I turned and saw the driver of the other truck do the same thing.

  Jett said, “I’m ready. What are we going to do?”

  “Not now.”