Gridlock: The Third Ryan Lock Novel

Home > Mystery > Gridlock: The Third Ryan Lock Novel > Page 7
Gridlock: The Third Ryan Lock Novel Page 7

by Sean Black


  No, the real perpetrator was getting off on the terror and uncertainty that he was leaving in his wake. The torso and the dress were clear demonstrations that he could and would do what he wanted, when he wanted. More than anything, he was focused on demonstrating that he was in control, that all anyone else could do was react.

  A pencil-thin middle-aged man had got out of the locksmith’s van and was opening the rear of the vehicle. He took out a tool box, then walked over to where they were standing. ‘So, what do you want changed out?’ he asked.

  Lock glanced back towards the house. ‘Everything.’

  Thirteen

  It took three of them to move the panic-room door up the stairs and into Raven’s bedroom. Composed of a solid core with internal steel framing and non-removable hinge pins, it must have weighed close to two hundred pounds. By the time Lock, Ty and the locksmith had wrestled it to the landing they were soaked with sweat.

  Lock walked back downstairs. Kevin was on the couch watching cartoons. Raven was on her cell phone, pacing the length of the house.

  ‘What do you mean your insurance won’t cover me? … Then let me speak to Jimmy … Okay, well, tell him to call me back.’

  She terminated the call with a jab of her thumb. ‘Assholes.’

  Lock waited for her to finish her tantrum. He didn’t ask what the call was about. If she wanted to share, he figured, she would. ‘I guess this isn’t a good time to give you this,’ he said, handing her the invoice for the newly delivered panic-room door.

  She took the piece of paper and scanned it. ‘Three thousand bucks? For a door?’

  ‘That’s actually pretty cheap. I negotiated a fairly hefty discount. These things can go for as much as twenty grand. Short notice like this, I was kind of amazed that the guy negotiated at all. We got lucky.’

  Raven went back into the living room and slumped into a chair, the invoice still in her hand. She rubbed at her temples with her thumbs. ‘The phone call. It was the club I was supposed to dance at later this week, pulling the plug.’ She had lowered her voice. Between the hammering from upstairs and the blaring television, Lock doubted that Kevin could hear what they were saying, but Raven wasn’t taking any chances.

  She leaned forward in the chair, visibly stressed. ‘Will they take a credit card?’

  Lock perched next to her. ‘Listen, I’ll get it out of my ten. You can pay me when this guy’s caught and you start working again.’

  Raven turned her head towards him, her violet eyes hard and dark. ‘I can pay my own way,’ she said, getting up and stalking out of the room.

  Lock sighed. He’d broken one of his own rules by assuming too much familiarity. That was a bad idea with any client. It was an extra-bad idea with someone like Raven, who fought so hard to retain control and keep people at a distance.

  In less than a minute she was back. ‘I’ll cover the invoice. It’s not a problem. I don’t need your charity.’

  ‘It wasn’t charity. Someone who charges the kind of money I do doesn’t have much interest in charity.’

  ‘Me either,’ she said, her voice softer and more placatory. ‘Now, seeing as I’m paying you so much, can you give me a ride to pick up mail? Plus I need to get some groceries. All I managed to eat earlier was some cereal and I’m starving.’

  Lock smiled. It seemed she had forgiven him. ‘Give me a second. I need to check on the locksmith and the guys fitting the panic-room door before we leave.’

  ‘Sure,’ Raven said. ‘I have to get changed anyway. I won’t be long.’

  He walked into the living room where Ty was now watching Kevin, who in turn was watching TV. ‘Can you keep an eye on things while I’m gone? I have to run a few errands.’

  Ty barely looked up. ‘Okay, brother. We’ll hold the fort here. Won’t we, Kev?’

  Kevin glanced round. ‘Yeah,’ he said, and went back to his show.

  ‘Kev’s been telling me about this little hottie he’s been seeing.’

  Kevin’s face broke into a wide grin. ‘She’s my bitch. Isn’t she, Ty?’

  Lock shot Ty a look.

  ‘Dude, you might not want your sister or Wendy to hear you using that word,’ Ty said.

  Kevin looked puzzled. ‘You used it.’

  ‘Yeah, Ty, you use it all the time,’ Lock said, laughing.

  ‘I know. But I shouldn’t. It’s disrespectful.’

  Kevin’s head cocked to one side as he thought this over. ‘Okay. So I won’t say it again.’ Once more he went back to his show.

  If Kevin was troubled by all these changes, he didn’t seem to be showing it. Lock wondered if Raven had overplayed the effect that relocating temporarily would have on him.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs made him turn around. She was wearing boot-cut jeans, a plain black T-shirt and a pair of sneakers. She had removed any last vestiges of makeup and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which emphasized her natural beauty. He caught Ty staring at her, slack-jawed.

  She smiled hesitantly at Lock. ‘I heard you talking to Ty earlier about blending into the background. It’s not exactly what I’m used to doing but I thought now might be a good time to give it a try.’

  The way she looked, Lock wasn’t sure she was capable of disappearing into the background. ‘Ready?’ he said, after a moment.

  She nodded, and turned to Kevin. ‘Best behavior, okay?’

  ‘Sure,’ Kevin grumbled.

  She walked over and gave him a hug, then followed Lock, who was standing by the front door. ‘Now I’m ready.’

  Fourteen

  The remaining photographers camped outside the house kept a respectful distance as Lock emerged into the bright sunshine with Raven. News of his confrontation with Raul, the paparazzo who’d pursued them on the freeway, had spread. They got off a few shots but left it at that, and Lock used the Range Rover’s powerful engine to quickly lose the one photographer who made a half-hearted attempt at following them.

  The place where Raven directed her business mail was a small drop-in store in a nearby strip mall. The drive took less than ten minutes and passed in silence, which didn’t surprise him. She had probably experienced more white-hot fear over the past forty-eight hours than many people did in a lifetime. A narrowly avoided assault or rape in a parking lot and a body in the trunk of the car were bad enough – single events that might well lead to a rippling anxiety capable of overwhelming a human being’s ability to function. But, Lock guessed, what was really spooking Raven now was the knowledge that someone had been inside her home. Burglary was seen by the law as a crime against property. In reality, it was far more than that. The intruder had gifted the dress but stolen any shred of her belief in her home as a sanctuary. It would take a long time for that to return, if it ever did.

  He glanced at her. The side of her face was pressed against the cool of the window and her eyes were closed. He thought about asking her how she was but stopped himself. Right now the best thing he could do was his job. Anyone who was being threatened needed, above all else, to see the person charged with their security alert and focused.

  Inside the mailbox store, he watched as Raven took out the key from her purse, with a slight tremor in her hand. Then she stepped back. Cindy’s head had been found jammed into a vending machine and the last time Raven had opened the trunk of her car she had found the matching torso. The mailbox wasn’t big enough to hold a head, but he sensed that she still felt nervous.

  ‘You want me to open it?’ he asked her.

  Behind them the tiny lobby of the Mailboxes R Us store was empty.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, handing him the key.

  Inside there were maybe a dozen letters. He held them up. ‘Shall I check them?’

  She stared at the floor. ‘No, it’s fine.’

  He handed them over and watched as she rifled through them. ‘Anything interesting?’

  Her eyes creased with concentration as she kept flicking. ‘Doesn’t look like it.’

  ‘You ha
ve any regular correspondents?’

  ‘A couple.’

  ‘Anyone who’s threatened to harm you or others?’

  ‘Apart from the stalker?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  She shook her head, then seemed to study him for a moment. ‘You were a cop originally, right?’ she asked him.

  ‘Military one.’

  ‘I thought MPs and the investigators were two different things.’

  ‘They are here. But I served overseas.’

  He gave the street a quick scan, then turned back to her. He had to keep his vigilance up, especially in places she was known to frequent. ‘I served in the Close Protection Unit of the Royal Military Police.’

  ‘They’re good?’ she asked.

  ‘The best.’ Something caught in his throat and he coughed. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Have you given the TMU people access to your email and any social networking sites you use?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Raven said. ‘I gave Stanner all the passwords but I don’t think the stalker’s been in touch that way.’

  ‘Good. Then are we done here?’ he asked.

  Raven tapped the edge of the final envelope against the palm of her hand. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘So where next?’ he asked.

  ‘Food!’

  ‘It’s better if we don’t order takeout. The fewer people we have coming to the front door the better. But it’s your call.’

  She frowned. ‘That makes sense. Grocery store it is, then.’ Five minutes later Lock pulled the Range Rover into the parking lot of the Vons supermarket on Laurel Canyon Boulevard. He stopped near the front and got out first. The early-October heat was brutal. The Santa Anas must have picked up again. He walked round to open Raven’s door.

  Stepping out, she left the mail she’d collected on the passenger seat. ‘So what do you and Ty like to eat?’

  Lock put his hand just behind her back, escorting her into the cool of the store. ‘You spend time in the military, you learn to eat what you’re given.’

  ‘So, tofu,’ she said, then added, with a nervous smile, ‘I’m kidding. Let’s get some steaks.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Lock said, his eyes flitting over everyone who rolled a cart past them. The customers were predominantly white with a scattering of Hispanics and very few African-Americans. The distinct racial profile of Los Angeles’ sprawling neighborhoods was one of the things that had most struck him about the city. It contrasted sharply with New York, where every race, creed and color were stacked, almost literally, on top of each other. Here the boundaries of social class and race were sharply differentiated.

  As they turned the corner at the end of the aisle, Lock noticed a middle-aged man wearing business casual attire of slacks and a white shirt with no tie, staring at them. His hair was matted from the heat and he had a nice little paunch going. Lock met his gaze – but he didn’t look away, as most men usually did when Lock made eye contact in a way that suggested he, and anyone he was with, wanted to be left alone.

  Raven must have noticed the man too because she gave a little shudder.

  ‘Ignore him,’ he reassured her. ‘He’s probably starstruck. If he’s something else, I’ll deal with it. Relax. Do what you were doing.’

  They were next to freezer cabinets full of ice cream. ‘Could you grab me some Rocky Road?’ she asked him.

  ‘Sure.’ He reached in, pulled out a tub and placed it in the cart for her. The guy was still staring. They moved on down the aisle and he followed, trying to make it seem coincidental.

  Next to him, Lock heard Raven mutter, ‘This is bullshit.’ Then she started towards the man. ‘Can I help you?’

  He was clearly surprised to be confronted. He stepped back, then looked around as if searching for a hidden camera. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You were staring at me,’ Raven said.

  The guy recovered his composure. ‘Maybe I thought I recognized you.’

  ‘And do you?’ she asked him.

  The guy smiled. ‘Actually, I live across the street from you. Hal Bradley. You might have seen my kids coming to visit on the weekends.’

  Next to him, Raven relaxed a notch, but Lock kept his guard up.

  Hal said, ‘Sorry, is this your boyfriend or something?’

  ‘No,’ Raven told him. ‘Just a friend.’

  Hal’s face hardened. ‘Great. Well, perhaps we could get together some time. Have dinner, maybe.’

  Raven cleared her throat. ‘I have a lot going on right now.’

  Hal made a face. ‘So, I’m not good enough for you, is that it? I didn’t think women like you were that selective. I could make it worth your while financially.’

  Lock took Raven’s elbow as she started to protest. ‘Go get those steaks.’

  She shook him off. ‘I can fight my own battles.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ Lock said softly. ‘But I’m on the clock, which means I deal with this.’

  Raven shot Hal an angry look but walked away, leaving the two men together. Hal seemed oblivious to the fact that Lock was glaring at him. There were times for Lock when dealing with a situation was purely professional. There were others when it became personal. This was one of the others.

  If you wanted to make judgements about other people based on what they did for a living that was fine. This was America. People were entitled to their opinions. But when you shared those judgements, you had better be prepared for the person you’re talking to, in this case Lock, to reply.

  ‘She’s just a hooker, right?’ Hal protested, as Lock’s right hand moved slowly from his side and formed into a fist.

  Raven was paying for the groceries at the checkout when Lock caught up with her. Behind him, a couple of store employees were gazing at him with open mouths, having just witnessed the one-sided altercation he’d had with Hal. He’d been careful to make sure that the other guy threw the first punch but it was all one-way traffic after that.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked Raven.

  She nodded as the packer loaded the final bag into their cart.

  ‘You have a clean-up in aisle three,’ he said to the cashier, as she handed Raven her receipt. Then he took the trolley and escorted Raven out of the store.

  Fifteen

  The glow from a neon store sign traced across Raven’s face as they pulled out of the parking lot. She turned away from Lock and he knew she had started to cry. He drove in silence for a while, keeping an eye on the traffic. If she wanted to talk, she would. It wasn’t his job to force the issue.

  After a few moments she grabbed her purse and fished out a packet of tissues, dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said finally.

  Lock’s eyes flicked between the rear-view and the road ahead. ‘You’re allowed to be upset.’

  ‘It’s just a lot to deal with sometimes. If I had only myself to worry about I could probably get by, but with Kevin as well … There’s a lot of pressure.’

  ‘A lot of people would have left him when he was younger,’ he said.

  She cleared her throat and her eyes darkened. ‘They already had. That’s why I couldn’t.’

  He reached down and grabbed a bottle of water from a cup holder and handed it to her.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took a sip. ‘I don’t often tell people about what happened. But if you want to hear it?’

  Now Lock felt she needed to talk. He gestured to the wall of red brake-lights ahead. ‘It’s not like we don’t have time.’

  ‘We grew up in northern California, right up past San Francisco. Dad split right after Kevin was born when he found out he was different. Just walked out on us without an explanation and never got back in touch. So that was one person who bailed on Kevin. Our mom did her best but she got involved with one deadbeat after another and most of them didn’t want kids around, never mind one with Kevin’s problem. So I guess all we had was each other and I ended up taking care of him a lo
t.’ She stopped. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Mom started getting more and more into drugs. Coke at first, then crank – y’know, methamphetamine – sleeping pills, pretty much anything she could get her hands on. Stuff started going missing from the house. She’d take it and sell it so she could buy drugs. I used to cover for her because I didn’t want us to be taken into care. By the time I was seventeen I’d dropped out of high school so I could bring in some money waiting tables. I started entering local beauty pageants too and making some spare cash that way. But it still wasn’t enough.’

  ‘That was how you ended up in your present line of work?’ he asked her.

  She sighed. ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  She dug into her handbag again, came up with a pack of cigarettes and lit up. After the first puff she closed her eyes. ‘It’s not like any little girl grows up thinking they want to do this for a living. You kind of fall into it. One day I was waiting tables when these three bikers came in. One of them was, like, mid-twenties, real handsome, and we ended up dating. Mom was too far gone to care and I was young and dumb and head over heels in love.’

  ‘He got you into stripping?’

  Raven laughed. ‘He dumped me for a stripper, so I went and got a job where she worked to get back at him. Like I said, I was stupid. Anyway, turned out that an eighteen-year-old beauty queen can make a lot of money in one of those places – as long as you realize that the less you give the customers, the more cash they’ll throw at you.’

  She took another puff on her cigarette and lowered the window to blow the smoke out. ‘All of a sudden I was making more money than I knew what to do with. I could get a place for Kevin, pay for someone responsible to look after him while I was working, and cover all his medical bills. And all I had to do was take off my clothes and pretend like I was interested in what some horny businessman was talking to me about.’

 

‹ Prev