Skylar helped him over the edge of the trunk and onto his feet. Then she pulled out a white plastic bag of clothes that had been thrown in with him. “I believe this is yours…”
He took the bag and stared at her. “Who are you?” he asked. Then he spotted Volkov’s body on the ground. “Is he dead?” Ethan knelt down and checked for a pulse. He shook his head. “You realize that was one of Alvarez’s bodyguards.” It was not a question. He looked around quickly, as if he expected men with guns to jump out from behind the construction vehicles. “You killed one of his bodyguards!”
“It was self-defense! What was I supposed to do?” She turned around, allowing him privacy while he dressed.
“Hell if I know. Wait a minute. Why was he after you?”
“He thought I was working with Dylan.”
“Dylan? You know Dylan Haines?”
“I know him, but I don’t work with him. I’m just a stunt pilot.” She glanced over her shoulder, figuring enough time had passed. Ethan was now dressed in gray camo pants, a black Che Cuevara t-shirt and brown moccasins. Turned out he was a revolutionist at heart, or least dressed like one.
“Unbelievable.” Ethan stood there shaking his head, staring down at the body. He looked like he was working through a math problem. Then he said, “There’s no way he’s going to let you live.”
Skylar let out a harsh breath. “That’s a nice thing to say.” She glared. “And where would you be if I hadn’t shown up?”
He raised his hands. “Yeah, okay. I’m grateful and all.” He looked back at the body. “But I’m telling you…they’re not going to be happy about this.”
“Fine. I get it. I’m in trouble. But I’m confused about you. How did you get from a hospital bed to this trunk?”
“Volkov dragged me out of my hospital bed. He was wearing a white coat. I guess that’s all you need to get by a guard at the hospital. Just an ordinary lab coat. The cops told me I was safe. They promised that no one would bother me.” He was ranting at this point. “Well, just look where I am now. Out in the middle of nowhere…with a dead bodyguard and some girl with a smoking gun straight out of Glamour magazine.” He glanced around then looked directly into her eyes. “And guess what, folks? She’s driving my best friend’s car.”
Skylar shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t argue about any of it, except the Glamour part, of course. He had every reason to be confused. Even she was struggling with figuring it out.
Not knowing what else to do, she put out her hand. “I’m Skylar. Nice to meet you, Ethan.”
He shook her hand and tilted his head. “So, Skylar, how do you know who I am?”
“Dylan was out of town when he heard you were injured. I’ve been staying at his house, and he asked me to check on you. Then, while I was on my way to the hospital, this guy showed up. And I assume you know the rest.”
Ethan rubbed his forehead, seeming somewhat confused.
“Do you have any idea how they knew about me?” Skylar asked. “I don’t know anyone around here.” She pointed with her foot. “This guy had a picture of me and knew my name.”
“I have no idea. All I know is Dylan’s plane was sabotaged, four pilots are dead and a fifth is missing. The Chaplain’s getting nervous and thinks everyone’s out to get him. And worst of all, Alvarez is making a power play by recruiting new pilots to take over his territory.”
Skylar was laughing, but it was just an attempt to hide her angst. “I know, I know. I almost became one of them.”
“No kidding?” Ethan scratched his cheek. “Then I guess we’re both lucky to be alive. Volkov is responsible for burying more than a dozen men in the desert. But no one’s brave enough to prove it.”
“What about the police? If they find out that Volkov is dead—”
“Believe me. They’ll just look the other way. Probably be glad he’s gone. But that doesn’t apply to Alvarez. He’d just as soon shoot you as look at you.”
Skylar picked up Dylan’s gun and dusted it off. Then she slipped it back into her waist band. “I’m still trying to understand how you got mixed up in all of this.”
“It all started at my shop,” Ethan explained. “Someone hit me over the head and threw me in the back seat of a car. I tried to get out and they hit me again. When I came to, I was blindfolded and tied to a chair. From what I could gather, two guys were there representing The Chaplain. They demanded to know the names of Alvarez’s carriers and their routes. I told them I had no idea. I only worked on the planes. They beat the shit out of me anyway, and then I heard them questioning this other guy.” Ethan rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. “I knew who it was the moment I heard his voice. It was Dylan’s distributor…the guy from Carlsbad. He had this gravelly sound and said “uh…” a lot while he was talking. They were accusing him of skimming off the top. When they didn’t like his answers, they stuffed something in his mouth and set him on fire. It was godawful. Once you smell burning flesh, you never forget it. Believe me.” He drew a deep breath, shook his head and opened his eyes again. “When the woman walked into the room, a gun went off and all hell broke loose.”
“How did you know a woman was there?”
“Easy. I heard her high heels on the concrete floor and I could smell her perfume.”
“You heard her shoes and smelled her?” Skylar scoffed, thinking he must be joking.
“Yeah, women’s shoes make little taps on the floor. I heard those right away and then I inhaled this spicy Oriental smell.” He sounded defensive.
“Okay, I understand. It was observant of you.” She paused and then thinking out loud she said, “This is new. The cops never mentioned a woman. Is there anything else you remember?”
“Nah, not a thing. I was too focused on living.”
“Well, if there’s nothing more, we need to figure out what to do here.”
Skylar spotted a red gas can inside the Lexus’ open trunk. She reached for it saying, “I hope this has something in it.”
“Sure smells like it,” Ethan answered. “I almost passed out from the fumes.”
She gave it a quick shake and determined it was a half full. Then she carried it to where the backhoe was parked with Ethan trailing behind. After checking it for a key, she turned to him. “Can you start this thing? There’s gas here if we need it.”
Ethan rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, sure. But why do you want—” His eyes followed Skylar’s to the dead body and came back to hers again. “Oh, I get it. A quick burial.”
Without further explanation, Ethan set to work, removing wires and twisting them together. Meanwhile, Skylar pulled Dylan’s phone out of her pocket and redialed the last number he had called from.
Ah, Roxy, this is going to be tough, she thought to herself.
“Hello, Sky,” he said. “Is that you?”
“Sorry, Dylan. I tried to stay out of trouble, honest I did. But I’m afraid things got a little out of hand…after I spoke to you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” By the sound of his voice, he definitely wasn’t smiling.
“Well, long story short, Ethan was snatched from the hospital. The Russian gangster who grabbed him came after me too…on that construction site north of the freeway. I found your gun in the glovebox and shot him in self-defense. But your car is looking good. Not a scratch on it.”
An audible gasp could be heard on the hotel phone. But Skylar dismissed it in lieu of the new mission she was about to undertake.
“Don’t worry, Dylan,” she said. “I found a solution. Call you later.” She didn’t bother to say goodbye, just ended the call, pocketed the phone, and turned back to Ethan. “So are we going to be able to hide this body or what? We need to get out of here before someone shows up.”
“Bad news, I’m afraid,” he said. “Couldn’t get the backhoe started. Probably why they left it here. We won’t be planting any Russians today, and we’re too close to town to burn him. You know, maybe we should drive off an
d pretend we were never here—”
“Are you kidding? We can’t just leave a body. Inspector Barillas’ men followed me from Dylan’s house. They disappeared somewhere, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they turn up again.”
The cell phone in Skylar’s pocket rang. “Dammit!” she snapped.
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“It’s more important that we do something with Volkov’s body,” she said. “Can you help me get him in the trunk?”
Ethan’s mouth quirked, and he scratched his head. “Well, sure. But then what are we going to do with the car?”
“I haven’t got a clue. Drive it into the desert and leave it.”
“Bad idea. Alvarez’s men will find it before we get back to town. They’re probably wondering where Volkov is right now.”
She stood with her arms crossed, looking into the sky, working out a new plan. “What if there was a way to pin his death on The Chaplain?”
“The Chaplain?”
“Yeah. Since you know all about him, and they’re already enemies, maybe there’s a way to—”
Ethan cut in. “What are you talking about? I don’t know anything about The Chaplain.”
“But Inspector Diaz said you did…after watching the security cameras in the hallway.”
Ethan wrinkled his nose. “That’s impossible. The Chaplain never showed up. He never does, at least not in public.”
“How do you know that?”
“Two days ago, I got a call from a pilot staying at the North Peak Apartments on North Central. He said he needed some work done and was willing to pay cash, but he wanted to meet up first. When I arrived, the door was open, and I didn’t see anyone. Then I heard these guys arguing in the next room. My name came up and I knew at that point it was a set-up. They were talking about selling me to Alvarez because I saw The Chaplain kill one of his men. Only I didn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Four days earlier, I was in the back of the shop working on an engine when these two guys rolled up and walked inside like they owned the place. One of them was a member of Alvarez’s group and the other guy worked for The Chaplain. It turned they were brothers arguing over loyalties. When their guns came out, I hid in the closet. I cracked the door open and heard them talking about The Chaplain. How he’s a ghost and uses his men to do all his dirty work. A gun went off and when I peeked out, Alvarez’s guy was on the ground and his brother was dragging him off.”
Skylar stared at Ethan in disbelief.
“So I can tell you for a fact The Chaplain’s not going to stand in front of a camera exposing himself to anyone who might be watching.”
“Wow…that’s crazy. You’re lucky to be alive.”
“It’s going to get even crazier when your friends arrive.”
“I know, I know.” Skylar wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. “What do you suggest we do?”
Ethan shrugged.
The phone rang again. Skylar didn’t answer it.
“You’re gonna have to talk to him sooner or later, you know.”
“I vote later.”
“It’s only gonna get worse.”
“All right, all right.” She blew out her cheeks and redialed the last number. “Hey, it’s me…”
“Tell me you were kidding. That you really didn’t kill someone!”
“Well? It’s not as bad as you think,” she said, studying her hands. “And to tell you the truth, I think you would’ve done the same thing.”
“Oh my, God,” Dylan moaned. “I can’t believe you’re saying that.”
When she glanced up, Ethan was eyeing her, a wry smile twisting his lips. “And there’s something else,” she added. “But I don’t want you to freak out, Dylan…if that’s at all possible.”
He sighed and then he said in an exasperated tone, “What is it?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a shovel I could borrow, would you?”
A primevil growl preceded the end of his call.
Less than a minute passed before the phone rang again. Skylar was hesitant to talk to anyone. But after the fifth ring, she garnered enough courage to answer.
“I don’t know what you’ve been up to,” Barillas blasted, “but it better be good! I want a full report tomorrow…if you expect me to honor our agreement.” He continued to spew insults over her lack of commonsense and foolish determination to dodge his men. Then he claimed it was her fault for the van being out of commission. While his men were following her, apparently, they drove it into a ditch, messed up the alignment and damaged the suspension, leaving the head of their department enraged.
“Sorry about that. I should have some answers for you tomorrow,” Skylar said, while considering what lies to cook up next.
11
Pandemonium
“First impressions are the last impressions.”
— ANONYMOUS
After receiving Skylar’s call, Dylan arrived in a taxi in record time with a clenched jaw and murderous look in his eyes. Thanks to Ethan’s help, Volkov’s body was loaded in the trunk of his car. Then Dylan drove without saying a word, while Skylar kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. Ethan slumped silently in the back seat, staring through the passenger window. No one had spoken since Dylan had arrived and surveyed the scene. Gangster car. Dead gangster. Confiscated gun. Woodworking bum in the desert.
After gifting Volkov’s car to the demented man and assuring him that it could carry a ton of wood, they watched him disappear from view in his remarkable “blessing from heaven.” Shortly after, Skylar and Ethan began an onslaught of explanations and excuses, walking in circles and pointing. But none of it was making their situation with Dylan any better.
Having reached the end of his rope, he put both of his hands up and yelled, “Stop it! I am in no mood to hear anything from either of you. Let’s take care of this mess you made and be done with it.”
The desert seemed to go on forever, especially in silence. But apparently, they weren’t far enough away from civilization to complete their task. The sun was going down and city lights were flickering in the distance, and yet they continued to drive in what appeared to be circles.
“This looks like a good place,” Skylar said, taking a chance. Dylan’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, causing her to question how much pressure it would take to break it.
Hmm…guess they weren’t ready to talk yet.
She continued to stare out the window and could hear Ethan messing with a seat belt in the back seat. Dylan just drove, staring straight ahead. When she was sure he would never speak to her again, he cleared his throat and announced, “If that bum hadn’t come along when he did, you would have had a second car to dispose of. Do you realize that?”
Skylar tested a smile. “I know. He said he God sent an angel when Ethan handed him the keys.” She glanced into the backseat. Her co-conspirator was trying to smile too.
“There’s a diner half a mile up,” Dylan said. “I’ll stop there…before taking care of this matter.”
For a second, she thought he was bailing and expecting her to dispose of the corpse.
But then she realized he was getting rid of it himself. She opened her mouth to argue, only to have him add snidely, “Don’t worry. I won’t get myself killed.”
Skylar eased back in her seat, glad for the distance between them. He pressed harder on the gas pedal and kept his eyes peeled for cops and any cars that might be witnesses. She knew he was mad at her for killing one of Alvarez’s men, in spite of being pulled into a situation she hadn’t asked to be part of.
He would’ve done the same thing, she told herself, although his attitude and demeanor indicated otherwise.
Dylan pulled his car off the highway and onto the exit ramp leading to Lynnie’s Diner. There was an OPEN sign in the window and an old red pickup in the far corner of the parking lot with a little blue Buick parked beside it. In all likelihood, they belonged
to the employees inside. This was an isolated place with a vast open lot behind it, and customers were few and far between.
Dylan’s car was idling in the middle of the empty parking lot. He drummed his thumb on the gear shift lever, still staring straight ahead.
“I’d feel better going with you,” Skylar said.
“I got this.” He glanced over at her door, waiting for her to leave.
Skylar reluctantly climbed out. “Do you want me to grab some coffee before you go?”
“No. That’s the last thing I need.” Dylan waited for Ethan to move to the front seat then he put the car in reverse.
She leaned down so she could see Dylan’s face through the open window. “You are coming back, right?”
His head snapped up and they made eye contact for the first time since he arrived to rescue them. “Of course. Of course, I am, Sky.” The corner of his mouth curved ever so slightly. More of an attempt to reassure her than a smile.
“Okay,” she said, even though it wasn’t. She patted the roof of his car and he pulled out of the lot. She watched them until they were out of sight. Then she waited for the dust to settle before plodding into the restaurant.
A little bell jingled when she pushed the door open and she was greeted with a seat yourself sign hanging on a signpost that had once been a broom handle. The wafting scent of french fries, grilled onions, and fried chicken filled her nostrils, leaving her smiling. She dropped into a brown padded booth across from the empty bar, glad to be out of the nerve-plucking car. A young woman with short hair left the conversation she was having with a coworker and crossed the room with a menu and glass of water.
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