In that case, it wouldn’t take close surveillance to follow Ashlee. Her pursuers could track her wherever she went. Rip was on high alert. Lela wasn’t far from the end of the pier, and was escorting her friend toward the lot.
The unmarked car pulled into an empty spot, not far from Ashlee’s car. It could be a routine patrol of the public area. But Rip doubted it. Why drive an unmarked car? He stepped away from the building just as a plainclothes cop opened the passenger door and got out. Lela slowed her pace and looked down, as if to hide her face.
*****
When Lela looked up, a plainclothes cop was just getting out of the car. Following her warning about the car, Ashlee had stopped walking. But Lela had no chance to inform her friend that the occupants of the car were cops.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lela saw Rip move away from the building, coming in their direction.
Lela wanted to call out to Ashlee, but didn’t dare give herself away. She feared risking her friend’s life. An unmarked police car was alarming. It was too coincidental, this late in the day at a remote location, for the police to show up. And one of them was walking straight toward Ashlee.
The man approached Ashlee’s position, but kept his eyes on Lela. The other policeman was out of the vehicle now, not far back. Lela’s pulse pounded in her ears.
Lela walked forward until she was a few feet from Ashlee. She needed to grab her friend, get her to safety, then deal with the cops. Rip was there for backup. He was striding purposefully toward the scene.
The cop ignored Ashlee, and said in a loud voice, “Lela Cabelo…stop where you are.” Then he pulled out his gun.
In the same instant, Ashlee cried out, “No…run, Lela!” Then she grabbed the policeman’s arm, forcing the gun away to deflect the shot.
Lela was less than a foot from her friend, who had one hand on the policeman’s arm and the other on the gun. Ashlee had committed a cardinal sin without realizing it. Police regulations were to shoot any person who touched a cop’s firearm or threatened the life of a police officer.
A split second before Ashlee made the grave error, the other cop had reached the scene. He drew his weapon.
Lela predicted what was next, and leapt toward Ashlee to push her out of the way. But as she tumbled to the ground on top of her friend, the bullet found its target.
Ashlee’s eyes were closed, and blood was all over. Rip’s strong arms wrapped around Lela’s waist and he pulled her up from the ground. Stunned, she stared at Ashlee motionless in the dirt, and prayed she was still breathing.
*****
Lela screamed, and Rip lifted her up to haul her away from the trauma. He’d witnessed the shooting. Ashlee’s body had hit the ground hard. A gunshot felt like a punch with a steel beam, and could have knocked her unconscious, no matter the severity of the injury.
One of the cops pulled out his phone and said, “We need an ambulance, stat. Sylvan Beach Park parking lot.”
Rip sprinted to the car, carrying Lela in his arms. He dumped her into the front seat, hopped in the driver’s side, and peeled out. One of the cops ran toward him, shouting, “Stop, police!” The sound of gunshots cracked through the air.
But Rip didn’t slow down. He floored the accelerator and sped down the road, then out to the main street. He hauled ass until well away from the scene. The cops might have made the plate.
Without letting up on the gas, Rip turned to look at Lela. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was pale as a ghost.
Rip’s sole focus was to get Lela to safety. An ambulance had been called, and cops were trained in emergency measures. Ashlee would be rushed to the hospital, and there wasn’t anything more that Rip could do.
Lela gripped his arm, sobbing. “Is Ashlee dead?”
“I don’t know.”
He prayed that Ashlee hadn’t been killed, that Lela’s fast reaction had prevented a direct hit. The cop might have intended to fire a warning shot, or aimed for a non-lethal area. But there had been no way to know for sure.
*****
Senator Ortiz was at dinner with a couple of associates from the firm. He was about to order another cocktail when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket to see that it was Officer Hagan.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Ortiz said. “I have to take this call.”
He stepped outside so the conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “Hagan, what is it? I was at dinner.”
“I’m sorry, senator,” Hagan said, “but this can’t wait. There was a shooting. The victim is en route to the hospital; I just got a call from my officers.”
“What the hell happened?”
“I assigned a couple of guys to keep an eye on Ashlee Vidal, like you asked. They weren’t my regulars, just honest cops doing a job. I didn’t share any details of your legal case.”
“How much do they know?” Ortiz said.
“Orders were to follow the woman, as she was suspected of conspiring with Lela Cabelo. The guys reported directly to me on a daily basis.”
“That shouldn’t have been a problem,” Ortiz said.
“I took the liberty of putting a tracker on her vehicle, and when I noticed she was headed away from the city, I radioed her location.” Hagan took a breath. “Well…turns out my hunch was right. She met with her friend Lela out at Sylvan, in the parking lot.”
“Why in God’s name did they shoot at her?”
“One of my men ordered Lela to stop. He attempted to take her into custody. But Ashlee went for his weapon, and the other officer had to intervene. The officer drew his weapon to protect his partner, and he’ll be backed up for that decision.”
Ortiz dragged a hand through his hair. “Jesus…is she dead?”
“Don’t know yet,” Hagan said. “She’s being transported right now, but I can’t guarantee she’ll still be breathing by the time she gets to the emergency room.”
“Don’t you guys know about firing warning shots?”
“Well, that’s the thing—the situation got out of control,” Hagan said. “It seems Lela tried to knock Ashlee out of the way, which skewed the officer’s aim, so I don’t know where the bullet struck.”
“So you have Lela in custody?”
There was silence for a second too long. “No, sir. She escaped.”
“Again? This is insane.”
“In our defense, Lela wasn’t alone. There was a military-looking dude with her, and they fled the scene in a sedan. Shots were fired, but they got away.”
Ortiz groaned. “I want to know who’s helping her, you understand me? I want the man’s name. He has to be taken care of.”
“Yes, senator.”
“And if a meeting took place, then Lela told Ashlee something. It might be a clue about how she’s evading the authorities. I want her interviewed the moment she’s conscious.”
“Of course, senator—that is, if she’s still alive.”
Ortiz returned to dinner, but he’d lost his appetite. It seemed the situation had plunged downhill in the space of a couple of hours. The only good thing was that the shooting wouldn’t be linked back to him. The officers had been justified in trying to take Lela into custody.
It was Ashlee’s assault on a police officer that had gotten her shot. And she’d have trouble explaining just how she happened to be with Lela at the time. After swearing to the FBI that she’d had no contact from her friend, it would put her in a bad light. It was obstruction of justice, and she’d face the penalties…if she didn’t die first.
*****
The senator opted for an early evening, and left his cohorts before dessert. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize. And if, by some miracle, Ashlee regained consciousness, he wanted to know about it. The hour didn’t matter.
It wasn’t that Ortiz planned to visit the hospital. That would connect him to the incident. But he’d given Hagan explicit instructions. He wanted to know what Lela had said to her friend, and Ashlee would have no choice but to cooperate.
He welcome
d the sanctuary of his estate home. It was on a large lot, surrounded by trees and a six-foot-high wall. The gate to the driveway was password protected, and he had a security detail on premises.
Once inside, he changed into running shorts and a shirt. A jog on his treadmill would relieve his anxiety. It was driving him crazy, waiting to see if Ashlee was going to talk. She could die right afterward, for all he cared. She’d betrayed him.
Repeatedly, Ortiz had tried to persuade her to share any information she had. She’d lied right to his face. That transgression irked him.
Ortiz ran for thirty minutes, until he was breathing hard. He stopped to swig some water. And just when he thought that his evening couldn’t get any worse…it did.
His other phone, used only for contact with the cartel, vibrated in the cup holder of his treadmill. He considered not answering, but that wouldn’t be smart. It was hard to get away with anything when it came to the boss.
Ortiz answered, and without even a hello, his contact launched into a tirade. “Is that what you call handling your mess?”
How did he already know about the shooting?
“It wasn’t my fault, jefe. The cops let things get out of control,” Ortiz said. “How can I be expected to answer for their blunders?”
“You’re clearly incompetent. We’ll take over from here. And need I remind you that you’ll owe me when this is taken care of?”
“I’m in your debt.” What else was there to say? It was fatal to say no to jefe, or even to argue. There would be a price for the cartel interceding and saving his ass. Ortiz would pay for it.
“Lela Cabelo has no idea what she’s up against. And Ashlee isn’t the only person she cares about. She has other vulnerabilities.”
“You’re going after her family?” Ortiz said.
“Whatever it takes to get her attention. No one is off-limits.”
“She has help,” Ortiz said. “Some ex-military dude.”
“Yes, we know about him.”
Why was it that the cartel seemed to be one step ahead of him?
“The man has put his life in peril, in a foolish attempt to rescue Ms. Cabelo. Well…we’ll be glad to accommodate him. Since he’s volunteered for danger, there’s plenty coming his way.”
The senator ended the call. He was nauseated. He wiped the sweat from his brow and sat on a bench. He couldn’t care less what happened to Ashlee. He’d been told to move aside, so that meant her questioning would be handled by the cartel.
And Lela might not live long either. Her life wasn’t worth much. Once she was blackmailed into turning over her evidence, she’d be terminated—with no remorse.
That was how the cartel did things.
But what had him worried was the price that jefe would extract from him. Ortiz’s pulse was elevated, and it wasn’t from jogging. He’d ticked off a powerful man, failed to take care of matters—and all on the heels of a scandal implicating the cartel, and a criminal case that would be unfavorable toward the organization.
Ortiz closed his eyes and prayed, something he rarely did. His life would continue as long as he was of use to his contact. He’d need to make sure that was a long time. Because if he pissed him off, or jefe decided that he’d betrayed him…it would be over.
Chapter 11
The shooting seemed like a blur. Lela sobbed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was devastated, but desperate to know if Ashlee was still alive. She trusted Rip to take the right action, since she was too overcome with emotion and loss to make decisions.
Despite all of her bravado, Lela hadn’t witnessed a shooting before, not up close—and so personal. The incident had happened so fast that she’d had no chance to divert the tragedy. By shoving Ashlee, she might have put her in the path of the bullet.
But there was no opportunity to dwell on it. Right now, an appropriate response to the tragedy was required, only Lela wasn’t certain what that was. She looked down, noticing that her clothes were covered in blood. A wave of nausea struck her and she averted her eyes.
A vague sense of being chased entered Lela’s consciousness. “Did the cops shoot at us, as we were driving away?”
“He was warning us to stop. But that would have been a mistake.”
Lela stared at Rip. He appeared focused and calm. It was difficult to see how he could be that way in the midst of chaos. And why was he driving away from Ashlee? Shouldn’t he find out if her friend was alive or dead?
But Lela’s brain wasn’t functioning normally. She wanted to say so much, yet choked up when she tried. So she stared ahead, seeing only the vision of Ashlee on the ground with blood all over.
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll dump this car at the metro. Running the plate won’t do the police any good. They’ll find out it’s a rental, and come up with an untraceable credit card. Plus, I used a fake California driver’s license, so they won’t be able to track me down.”
Lela marveled at his foresight. Her wits were a bit frozen, and she couldn’t quite get her head around how Rip happened to have an alternate license. She must be in shock. Dazed, she tried to recall the remedy for that condition. It seemed like elevating her feet would do it, only that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Or maybe that was a different type of shock.
“What about Ashlee? Shouldn’t we go to her?”
“Believe me,” Rip said, “she’s my top priority.” He turned to look at her. “I can’t get you to safety just yet…not if you want to save Ashlee.”
Lela stared at Rip. That wasn’t even a question, so didn’t require a reply. Her friend came first, so protecting herself would have to wait. But what did he mean save Ashlee?
At the Pasadena metro station, Rip pulled into a parking spot and went around to help her out. He removed his jacket and put it on her. “That will cover up the blood.” He took her hand and led her into the station.
Lela’s mind was on Ashlee. She couldn’t grasp that her friend might be gone; it didn’t seem real.
Inside the station, Rip put his arm around her, as if he feared she might collapse. “Keep your head down,” he said. “I’d rather avoid the security cameras.” His strength was what she needed right then, and she leaned against him.
Across the room, and down a long hallway, were the restroom signs. Rip took her into one that was marked family. He shut and locked the door.
“I know this is all very hard for you,” Rip said. “You’re going to have to trust me.”
Lela nodded. She caught a glimpse in the mirror; she was a mess. Before she could do anything, Rip grabbed some paper towels, wet them, and began cleaning the blood off her face. His action was so tender that it wrenched her heart.
When Rip was finished, he lightly kissed her on the lips. “I’m going to do all I can. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Tears welled in Lela’s eyes, but she blinked them back. It wasn’t the time to give in to grief. She removed the coat and washed her hands, watching a stream of red go down the drain.
Rip waited, giving her a minute.
Lela turned to face him. “Why did we leave? I…I’m afraid the worst has happened.”
“The only option was to flee the scene. I couldn’t let them take you into custody.” Rip paused. “That wouldn’t have benefited Ashlee. If you were taken away, you’d be powerless to help her.”
Despite Lela’s gut feeling that it was wrong to leave her friend, Rip’s rationale did make sense.
“And don’t think for a second that the cartel couldn’t get to you at the police station…if you made it that far.” Rip held her hands. “Are you up for this?”
Lela dug deep for strength. “Yes. What do we have to do?”
“Ashlee will be a target now. News of the shooting will be relayed, probably already has been. She spoke to you, and your enemies won’t waste any time finding out what she knows.”
“If she’s alive…”
Rip handed her the coat. “Let’s go. There’s n
ot a moment to spare. I’m going to proceed on the assumption that Ashlee is still alive…and that her life depends on us.”
It wasn’t the time to ask questions. Lela followed Rip out of the bathroom, and he led her out to the street. “The police will be looking for that car. We need to leave the area. But first I have to make an important call.”
*****
Rip could tell that Lela was in shock, but she was dealing with it pretty well. There was no choice but to move forward with the plan. He made a call to Travis.
“Talk to me, buddy.”
“I need backup, like, yesterday,” Rip said.
“I didn’t like how things were going,” Travis said. “So I already sent Hunter out there. He’s in the downtown area with a car. What do you need?”
In as few words as possible, Rip relayed the highlights of the shooting, and what he needed for Travis to arrange. “I figure that Ashlee was transported to the nearest hospital, so that’s where we’re headed. The cartel will be after her now, so we have to get to her first.”
“Loud and clear,” Travis said. “I’ll send Hunter your way. He’ll be at Park Plaza emergency in about twenty minutes.”
Rip prayed that wasn’t too long. On the next street over, he flagged a cab, then ushered Lela inside. The cabbie sped off toward the hospital.
On arrival, Rip went straight to the gift shop and left Lela in the hall facing away from any cameras. He didn’t have time to take her back to the hotel, so the best he could do was make her difficult to recognize. He bought some wraparound sunglasses, a scarf, and a hat.
He took the items to Lela and she put them on. It would have to do.
Rip held Lela’s hand, and they hovered near the emergency waiting room. Not long after, Hunter arrived. He wore beige pants, a brown jacket, and off-brand jogging shoes, blending in as much as he could. Although over six feet tall and built of solid muscle, he was hard to miss.
Hunter’s demeanor was that of a concerned relative. “How’s she doing?”
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