Preservation

by Charles Lemoine

  Wulf managed a few meters down the road when the front door to the SUV opened, and a huge, shadowy figure got out and faced the oncoming car. Without a sound, a flash of light lit up in the distance.

  “Shit,” he said as he slammed on the brakes and ducked away. The right front tire exploded, roking his car. He looked up to see a second and third flash, followed by the shattering of his windshield.

  That jackass is shooting at me, and he’s got a silencer. Definitely not a random gang-style attack.

  He threw the car in park and pulled out his gun. Aiming straight out through the missing front windshield, Wulf fired his weapon. Without a silencer of his own, his return fire was loud. But he missed. Ears ringing in he started reloading, but watched in frustration as his attacker got back into his SUB, shut the door, and sped away.

  Wulf was pissed. Not only had he failed to stop the murderous man, but now he had a mountain of paperwork to do tonight. Any chance he had at getting some rest evaporated after he fired his weapon. He sat back into the car seat and let out a huff.

  “Well, fuck.” Wulf reached down into the center console and retrieved his police radio. “This is Detective Wulf. I’m out at the old abandoned fire station in Santa Monica. Shots fired. No known injuries, but I’ll need a full team here.” He answered all of the dispatcher’s questions and then rested his head back into the seat.

  He took out his cell phone and placed a call to his chief. While he waited to be connected, he got out of the car and took in the damage to the car. Two flat tires and a shattered windshield. He was going to need a tow…and some coffee.

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite being exhausted from the day before, Mariska barely slept. The adrenaline that flowed through her veins after meeting Badger just now began to ebb. She took a sip of coffee and yawned. What was she going to do now? She didn’t have a way to contact him. Last night she hadn’t even thought to ask him for a phone number. Craigslist. That’s how they’d made contact in the first place.

  Mariska logged into her account using her cell phone. Nothing. It was too soon, and she knew it. She sent a quick message to the Craigslist account Badger had used to contact her last night. A few seconds later a message appeared in her inbox.

  “That was quick,” Mariska said.

  She clicked to open the message. After the first line, it became clear it was a generic message from the website. It informed her that the person or entity she was trying to contact was no longer using that email. The account had been closed.

  “Be patient,” she said, putting the phone back down on the kitchen table.

  In the meantime, she was going to need a plan of action. She grabbed an unopened cable bill and turned it over. Mariska began to make a list.

  Find out who would want to take the La Brea Woman and why.

  Do any of the people at the Fundraising Gala, guests or workers, have motive?

  …

  She began tapping her pen on the table. Within a few seconds, she slammed the pen down and stood. What is the next move? There was not much to go on. She was about to give up and take a shower when her phone rang.

  She snatched the phone up and didn’t recognize the number. Maybe it was Badger? “Hello?”

  “Hey, there. How’re you feeling?”

  Mariska paused for a second. “David?”

  “Yeah. Expecting someone else?”

  She looked at the phone again. “Where are you calling me from? Your name didn’t pop up?”

  “Work. I’m using a backline. Why?”

  Mariska started an internal debate. Be honest and have to listen to him tell her how dangerous it was for her to meet a stranger she met on Craigslist in the middle of the night. Or she could save herself the headache and lecture and lie to him.

  “Oh, just curious.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I’m still in shock from everything that’s been going on.” Not a complete lie, anyway.

  “I’ll tell you what. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come over and make you dinner.” His voice was so hopeful her stomach tightened.

  “Um…”

  “Please, say yes. I…I, really want to make you my grandmother’s chicken fettuccine alfredo. It’s delicious.”

  Mariska smiled. “I thought you said your grandmother specialized in French cuisine?”

  “Okay, fine. I downloaded the recipe on Pinterest a few minutes ago. It looks super good though.”

  There was so much she wanted to try and get done today, but dinner with David sounded nice as well. “I would love that. What time should I expect you?”

  “Does six work for you?”

  She looked over at the clock. If she could get her act in gear, there would still be plenty of time for her to do some digging. If there was one thing that watching investigative television shows had taught her, if the trail goes cold, it’s harder to find what you’re looking for.

  “Six o’clock sounds great,” Mariska said. “Hey David, before you get back to work can I ask you something?”

  “Of course. I’ve always got time for you.”

  “Has Dr. Snyder said anything about me? Have you heard anything at all about the La Brea Woman, my job, or the grant?”

  “I think you should focus on you right now,” David said. “I mean, you were just in the hospital. You need to take care of yourself, first and foremost.”

  Mariska’s blood started to heat up. “I don’t need advice, David. I need answers.”

  “I’m just saying that—“

  “You’re just being overly protective. I don’t need another father. I need a friend. One willing to help me.” She pictured him sitting behind his desk, running his fingers through his unruly hair. Contemplating his options. Piss her off and eat alone, or do what she asked. Oh, she hated being that person, but truth be told, she needed answers if she was ever going to move on.

  “Dr. Snyder got a call from Ingrid today.”

  “Ingrid…The Ingrid Ashton?”

  “The one and only. She called this morning. Insisted on talking with Dr. Snyder.”

  “What about?”

  “No idea. He took the call in his office with the door closed.”

  Ingrid was the head of the Institutional Review Board. There were four people on the board, plus Dr. Snyder, who voted in the event of a tie. They decided which research projects were awarded grant funding from the Museum. Ingrid controlled the board with a sweet smile, nerves of steel, and a lineage dating back to the beginning of the Page Museum itself. Her grandfather was one of the original researchers there. Rumor had it that the Page Museum was supposed to be named The Page Ashton Institute, but that there’d been a falling out between Mr. Page and his chief scientist, Dr. Ashton. Although Mariska suspected it truly was a rumor since the Ashton family has continued to be an integral part of the institution since its founding.

  Mariska had a thought. “Was his assistant lurking around? Maybe she heard something.”

  “Kathy? Even if she did, she wouldn’t say anything to me.”

  “She’s such a bitch. I’m sure you could bribe her into talking.” Mariska said as she walked into her bathroom and turned on the shower. “I heard that she might even have the hots for you. Maybe you can flash her a boob or something.”

  David snorted. “Flash a boob or something?”

  “Okay, remember when we were all sitting in the Sexual Harassment Seminar last month? When the guy mentioned boobs to the innocent, young female coworker, Kathy turned around and looked at you.”

  “No, she didn’t. She was looking at you because you started laughing,” David said.

  “The entire scenario was so ridiculous. Anyway, she looked at you.”

  “Even if she did, I don’t like her…at all, really.” David sounded defensive. “Not to mention the way she eats her salad at lunch. Total turn-off.”

  “Oh, you don’t like it when people eat plain chopped lettuce out of a zip-lock bag, using t
heir hands? Each piece of lettuce plopped into their mouth like it was movie popcorn?”

  “Exactly. She’s creepy.”

  “No, she’s desperate for attention. Kathy’s a product of a family who’s famous for making their money on shady business deals. And from what my mom told me, she has major daddy issues—always trying to live up to some ideal that her father never accepts.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s kind of sad, but she’s never been nice to me so there’s not much I can do about it.”

  “To be fair, she’s not the only person I know with issues,” David said before going quiet. No doubt kicking himself for what he said.

  “We aren’t talking about me. Anyway, I need to get going. I’ve got things to do.”

  “Okay,” David said. “I’ll do it.”

  “Do what?” Mariska was ready for this conversation to be over.

  “I can ask around, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. I can’t imagine Kathy will tell me much of anything…that’s even if she knows anything.”

  “There isn’t much that happens at the museum that she doesn’t know. She’s in everyone’s business.”

  “Not to change the subject.” David cleared his throat. “But are you taking a shower?”

  “Just about to jump in when you called.”

  David paused for a moment. “I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

  Her stomach growled. “Fettucine Alfredo, you said?”

  “The best.”

  Mariska threw back the shower curtain, “Okay, I’ll see you at six. Have a great rest of your day.”

  “You too,” David said.

  “And if you hear or see anything, please let me know. You know how important all of this is to me.”

  “Absolutely, you have my word.” David turned to leave. “See you later.”

  Mariska made quick work out of her usual morning routine. She was feeling much more like her usual self, except for an underlying fatigue. She suspected a good solid night’s sleep would help fix the problem. And closure would, no doubt, help her get that much, needed sleep.

  If Ingrid needed to talk to Dr. Snyder, then she needed to talk to Ingrid. Mariska looked up Ingrid’s address, mapped it on her phone, and grabbed her car keys on the way out of the apartment. Ingrid wouldn’t mind an unexpected visitor, would she?

  Mariska rushed out the door and got behind the wheel of her dark-blue BMW coup. She closed her eyes for a moment and thought about what she was about to do, what lead her to this point, and the potential consequences. The La Brea Woman’s remains came into focus. This was more about her than it was Mariska. Although, she was mixed up in this mess every bit as deep as the ancient woman. She put her foot on the brake and turned the ignition. The sporty car roared to life and sent an excitement through her she hadn’t felt in the past few days. She was on the right track, and she knew it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mariska turned onto Mulholland Drive and checked her phone for directions. According to the app, she’d be pulling up to Ingrid’s estate in less than twenty minutes. The extra time was due to the slow speed limit on the winding road filled with hairpin turns. It wasn’t the hairpin turns, as much as the steep drop-offs that worried Mariska whenever she drove on this road. There were far too many news stories this year about bicyclists and motorists meeting an untimely end on this stretch of road. Usually, speed or intoxication were to blame. She hadn’t been drinking, and she planned on keeping it at or below the speed limit, even if the anticipation of making it to Ingrid’s killed her.

  Her cell phone rang. Checking the mirrors for signs of cops, she picked up the phone. It was Theresa. “Hey there.”

  “I wanted to check and see if you were able to make any progress with the computer?”

  Mariska hesitated. Could she trust her? All this paranoia was going to make her legitimately crazy. Should she go ahead and reserve a room at the local Mental Health hospital?

  “Well, let’s just say I found someone to help.”

  “A computer expert?” Theresa asked.

  “That is exactly right. He said he would be happy to help. So, tell me, what do you have for me?”

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Stevenson. I haven’t been able to find anything helpful yet.”

  “I thought we went over this already. Please don’t call me Dr. Stevenson. Right now, I’m not your boss. We are…partners in this endeavor. Call me, Mariska. Please.”

  “Okay, I’ll try and keep that in mind.” Theresa sounded like she was smiling while she spoke. “So, in that case. What do you have for me?”

  “That’s the spirit. I’m going to see Ingrid Ashton. Speaking of Ingrid, I heard she called the Museum today and demanded to speak with Dr. Snyder.”

  “I heard that too. I’m the one who answered the phone.”

  “Oh, yeah? What exactly did she say?” Mariska could feel her excitement growing. She was getting somewhere.

  Theresa didn’t answer right away, and Mariska could hear her moving around. No doubt, she was still at work and was looking for somewhere more private to have this conversation.

  “Sorry about that, I needed to change offices. You know, too many rat ears in this place.”

  Mariska laughed. “Oh, trust me, I know what you’re saying.”

  “Ms. Ashton called this morning. She asked to speak to Dr. Snyder. I told her that he was in a meeting. I didn’t tell her this part, but Dr. Snyder and Kathy had been huddled up in his office for the past couple of hours. Seemed strange to me, but what do I know?”

  “No, I can tell you something strange was going on there too. We can get to that next. So, what happened then?” Mariska said as she slammed on the brakes. “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you, okay?”

  Maybe this was why the state of California had banned the use of cell phones while driving? Damn, she almost drove straight off the cliff. The turn had come up out of nowhere, and she must have missed the warning sign because she was talking on the phone.

  “I’m fine. Just lost track of where I was driving.”

  “Be careful out there. So many crazy drivers,” Theresa said.

  “Oh, yeah. Lots of crazy drivers out here. What happened next?”

  “Ingrid mentioned she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She started telling me how much money and time she puts into the Museum every year. How she has been a founding member and her family helped make the museum what it is today. I mean, I knew all that shit, but I was shocked she was being such a bitch about it. It’s not like any of this was my fault.”

  Mariska said, “Wow, I’ve never seen her act like that either. Something must be upsetting her…more than just the fact she couldn’t talk to that asshole boss of ours.”

  “But what?”

  “I’m not sure, but I intend on finding out,” Mariska said.

  “Oh, yeah? How are you going to do that?”

  “Simple, I’m on my way to her house now.”

  Just as she spoke something slammed into the back of her car, hard.

  “What the fuck?” Mariska looked in the rearview mirror.

  “What happened? Are you, okay?” Theresa asked, her voice elevated with concern.

  A dark SUV pulled dangerously close to the back of her. She couldn’t see the license plate, but the grill was clear. The Cadillac emblem grew closer, and she stepped on the gas.

  “Mariska? Are you, okay? Hello? Are you there?”

  “Someone just rear-ended me. Oh, shit, here they go again.” Mariska braced for impact.

  This time, the SUV rammed her and kept pushing. It didn’t relent. She dropped the phone and grabbed on to the steering wheel with both hands. She slammed on the brakes, but only slowed for a moment, then continued on up the road. They were pushing her. Smoke billowed up from her back tires. She tried turning the wheel toward the oncoming lane, desperate to keep herself from going over the cliff. The car started moving to the left, but the SUV countered. An oncoming car blared its horn, and she adjusted to the right to avo
id a collision.

  The road ahead was clear. Mariska pulled the wheel to the left once again. This time the SUV sped up, pushing her straight toward the rocky cliff-side. She pulled hard to the right, but it was too late. The car went straight into the mountainside. Her seatbelt instantly engaged and she felt arms and head fly forward, pulling up short of hitting the dashboard by the seatbelt. The sudden stop came with a crunch of metal and the smell of burning rubber.

  Wiping the hair out of her face, she opened her eyes. The windshield was splintered into a spider-web of cracks. The engine was still running, but there was a lot of smoke coming from the hood of her car. Fire? She looked in the rearview mirror. The SUV was backing away. Her car rocked side to side as the Cadillac pulled itself free. Who the fuck was trying to kill her? And, why?

  Mariska thought she better get out of there while she still could. Hopefully, the car would still drive. She slid the car into reverse and edged the car backward toward the road. She looked back to the front. How was she going to see through the front windshield to drive? She rolled down the driver-side window and looked out. That would have to do. She inched the car back some more, across one lane until she got the car facing the direction she needed to go to finish her journey to Ingrid’s house.

  She stopped the car and put it into drive. Sticking her head out the window to see where she was going, she pushed on the gas. The wind in her hair felt good, drying her face and hair from the sweat that soaked her. Her phone. She needed her phone. As she drove slowly up the winding road, she searched around the inside of the front of the car. There it was, in the footwell of the front passenger seat. If she could just reach it. Lunging to the right, she took her chances. Her fingers closed around the cell phone, and she pulled it up with her as she straightened up in the chair.

  A squeal of tires caught her attention, and she looked out the window. She passed the SUV. It had been waiting for her. She pushed the gas pedal down to the floor and her car gained speed. Normally, the car was a high-performance vehicle, great at taking corners at high speeds, but there was something wrong. The car’s steering was off, not responding the way it usually did. The faster she went, the less control she seemed to have. She let off the gas, for a split second. And when she did, the SUV made impact with her once again.