Archer didn't have to look far to know that there was a problem at the Malibu house. The huge copper gate stood open, twisted to three quarters as if someone had slipped out in a hurry. He pushed it all the way open with a fisted hand and walked in, calling for someone – anyone. The place was silent as a tomb.
Careful not to touch anything, Archer checked it out. Front door: open. Entry rug: off center, one corner flipped back. Dining room: two chairs down. He moved slowly. Warily. Silent now. Ready to run into a living, breathing human being, or step over a body.
Nothing in the hall.
Hannah's room. A mess. Little stool tipped over. Little dish with a blade. Archer peered closely. No blood. Good sign. French doors that led to the beach. Open. A closer look. Sand at the entry. Feathered. There was no wind now so it had to have been open all night.
Archer moved upstairs, staying close to the wall, watching the doors. All were open. All was silent. The master bedroom was pristine. The bed hadn't been slept in. Downstairs again he wrapped his finger in the tail of his shirt and activated the answering machine. Last thing he wanted was his prints in this place. There were two messages from Josie asking Hannah to call. The kitchen: crap all over the floor. A junk drawer ripped out and spilled. No cocktail glasses, no dishes, no food, nothing normal. Whatever had gone down had happened fast and furious and followed a path – Hannah's bedroom, through the dining room and living room, out the front door, and through the gate.
Poof.
All gone.
He walked the perimeter looking for anything that would give him a clue as to where gone was. Linda's car was in the driveway unlocked. Hannah's bug was still booted. Someone had come to get Linda, or Hannah, or both. Archer guessed Kip, but Kip wouldn't take Hannah to the corner if she begged on her knees.
Archer planted his feet in the white sand and looked out to sea. If Linda was taken away and Hannah left behind, then where was she? He hoped to God she wasn't out there, under the deep blue sea. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn't by making a phone call and asking politely. He'd have to find the gruesome twosome – Kip and Linda – and look them in the eye to find the truth. Archer trudged back around the house just as an old Valiant pulled into the drive. A woman dressed in white got out, a sweater over her arm, and a shopping bag in her hand.
The maid.
"Hola," Archer called and went to meet her.
It took less than two minutes to find out she came every other day. She would be no help to Archer. He thanked her, told her the place was a mess and heard her mumble 'so what else is new' in Spanish before he got in his car and set his sights on the Palisades to check out the Coffee Haus, and track down the elusive Rayburns.
***
Josie inched along the freeway, got through the tight patch, and took off as soon as she passed the Century turnoff. The ragtop rattled, she could hear the engine purring under the hood, and her brain was hanging right in there with the car. She wanted to call Archer but knew there would be no way to hear him over the freeway noise, so Josie made mental memos as she wove into the fast lane and out again to pass a tractor-trailer.
Archer was top of the list. Josie would have him running for the next three days, checking out every bit of the Rayburn's lives: the women Linda hung with at the gym, the few she drank with, the ones she served with on those charitable committees where someone named Rayburn would be welcome. Josie would have him talk to the partner's wives at Rayburn & Frank. Archer would go to Kip's club, talk to those who knew him well. Purpose: find out who knew about Fritz's 'deal' with his son.
Josie changed lanes again taking cursory note of the mobile impressions: a man on a cell phone, a gray Mercedes, a girl singing at the top of her lungs in a white Toyota. Billboards went by in a rush of color and light. The electronic message board warned of a slow down at the next turnoff but Josie flew past – no traffic jam in sight. She exited the freeway at Rosecrans. Thirty minutes later she'd navigated the surface streets and was home. Gathering her purse Josie walked down the driveway snapped the remote over her shoulder and closed the garage door. She dug in her purse for her keys and hurried around the corner of the garage only to slow her step, stunned to see who was waiting on her doorstep.
***
"Hey."
"Hey," Archer called back, raising a hand as he hiked across the impeccable lawn that swept up to the Rayburn's Palisades estate. The kid who called to him was short, tanned, and buff. His shirt was off and he was surrounded by a couple thousand dollars' worth of flowers and plants.
"Did you bring the mulch?"
"Nope. Sorry. Wrong guy."
"Damn. I need that mulch. These beds are like totally dead after that fire. I need to work in some mulch here. I called the company two hours ago."
"Sorry," Archer shrugged, "can't help you. I'm looking for the Rayburns. Are they here?"
"I got here about six. I haven't seen anybody." The kid squinted toward the main house. "I seen the cars, just haven't seen them."
"Archer."
He put out his hand, shook the kid's
"Rene," the young man filled in the blank.
"Nice to meet you. I'm actually looking for the daughter."
"Hannah?" Rene nodded. "I haven't seen her either."
"What about before the fire? Did you see anything then? Anything out of the ordinary?" Rene squinted into the sun as he thought.
"I'm here one day a week. I don't know what's ordinary. They walk right by me. Except Hannah. She said hi when she saw me. The old man didn't like it."
"Was he mad?"
"Naw. Only heard him mad once. I was here late because the sprinklers weren't working just right. So I'm over there," he chucked his chin toward a bank of leaded glass windows. "And I'm fiddling with the timer trying to get it reset and I hear the old man and his son going at it. I never heard a peep out of that house before and then it sounds like World War three going on."
"What did you do?" Archer walked over to the fountain and ran his hand through the clear, cool water. Rene followed.
"I listened," Rene laughed again. "It's not like gardening is real exciting."
"Did you hear what they were saying?"
"You a cop?" Rene asked.
"Just a friend of the girl."
"I didn't hear much. I. . ." Rene hesitated. "Hey, you're not going to tell them I was listening are you? I don't want to get fired."
Archer shook his head and flicked the water off his finger. "I'm the last person you have to worry about. Just curious, that's all."
"Mostly I just heard the yelling not all the words. Then the young guy comes close to the window and he screams at the judge and I hear him say, "she's your problem, not mine" and "what's there to be afraid of?
"Then he moves away and I can't hear what he's saying, just the yelling. I almost have the sprinklers fixed when I hear this big crash. I dived onto the grass because I thought it was a gunshot. It wasn't. Somebody threw something and it hit the window frame just where I was standing." Rene shook his head remembering the day. "I would have been in big trouble if that thing hit the window because I was just underneath it."
"What happened then?"
"Nothing," Rene answered matter-of-factly. "They said a few more things I couldn't hear, and then I was done and I left."
"When was this?" Archer asked.
"One, maybe two days before the fire."
"Anything after that?"
"Not that I know. Nobody was living here after the fire. I just kept the grounds." Rene's eyes narrowed and he nodded toward the circular drive. "They're back now."
Archer followed Rene's gaze. Linda Rayburn had come out the door. She was dressed in a long, filmy gown the color of cantaloupe. It didn't leave much to the imagination.
"What a babe," Rene sighed.
"Yeah," Archer answered, "A real sweetheart."
***
"Faye?" Josie jogged the last few steps, hugging Fa
ye Baxter with her free arm, pulling away long enough to grab her keys and rush to the front door. "My God, I can't believe you're here. I'm so happy to see you. I'll say it. I missed. . ."
"Josie, I'm sorry. I couldn't get you on the phone," Faye talked fast but Josie was talking over her. Faye tried again, louder to make herself heard. "I tried your cell but couldn't get through."
Josie pushed open the door and motioned Faye in with a nod of her head.
"I was downtown. Probably out of range. Come on in. How long have you been here?"
"About twenty minutes. Josie, I've got. . ." Faye inched closer.
"Just a sec. I've got to let Max out." Josie was a step inside the door when Faye clamped her hand on Josie's shoulder.
"Josie, stop," Faye cried. Then more softly, "Stop."
"What? What is it?" Josie dropped her briefcase. Faye had her attention.
"It's Hannah. She's been hurt."
"Where? Where is she?" The blood rushed to Josie's cheeks.
"She's in Long Beach Memorial Hospital."
"Long Beach? What in the hell is she doing there?"
"I don't know. I only know she's hurt pretty badly."
"Please tell me she didn't try to kill herself?" Josie pleaded.
Faye shook her head. "No. Nothing like that. It was an accident. She was hitchhiking. A truck swerved to miss a car on Pacific Coast Highway and hit her. She was in Huntington Beach and the paramedics took her to Long Beach Memorial. Hannah had your card with the office number in her pocket. The nurse in ICU didn't go through her clothes until this morning. Hannah's been there since late last night."
"Does Linda know?"
"Not from me. I told the police who Linda was so I'm sure they've contacted her by now."
"Maybe, maybe not." Josie balled her fists on her hips. "I swear, I don't know what Linda was thinking leaving Hannah alone. What a mess. Hannah running away is unbelievable. I told her. . ." Suddenly Josie stopped. She put a hand to her brow. "Oh God, then Hannah's alone at the hospital."
"I just don't know anything else, Josie." Faye clasped her hands in apology.
"I know. It's okay. I appreciate you going out of your way, Faye. I really do." Josie walked a circle. She slapped the wall with her open palm and stormed across the room. She ripped the receiver off her cradle. "Linda wants the mother of the year award and then leaves Hannah alone to do whatever she wants. God, she's stupid. Norris will have Hannah back in jail before Linda can blink and it will be her fault."
"Norris may not have time to revoke Hannah's bail, Josie. From the little I know, Hannah may not live that long."
Josie held the receiver away from her ear. Faye could hear the ringing of Linda Rayburn's cell phone go unanswered and then Linda Rayburn's voice came over the line. She wasn't home but if the caller would leave a message she could get back to them.
Faye picked up the receiver and listened just as Josie ran out the door.
CHAPTER 32
"Are you family?" – Nurse/Intensive Care
"Yes." – Josie
Hannah wasn't beautiful anymore.
She was swollen, raw, shaved, bruised and broken.
Her face was red and black on one side, her skin shredded where she hit the pavement; microscopic flecks of blacktop were still embedded in her skin. A patch of hair had been shaved from the top of her head to her right temple. A long, ugly line of stitches ran from the edge of her eyebrow into the bald patch. A monstrous bit of machinery had her head locked steady, bolting her into a box that would keep her from moving if she ever woke up. One arm was bandaged from fingertip to shoulder. The other was in a splint. Josie could see the outline of Hannah's legs and breathed a sigh of relief when she counted two. Without her make-up, her piercings, without being able to see those green eyes, Hannah suddenly became what Josie had always argued she was – a hurt child.
Josie touched the sheets that were so tightly tucked around Hannah. Her fingertips quivered. Her arm felt heavy. The memory of the Davis children, dead under pristine white sheets, flashed into Josie's head. She snatched her hand back. Instead of looking under the sheet, Josie leaned forward and touched what was left of Hannah's hair and whispered.
"Hannah, what have you done to yourself? Hannah?"
Hannah didn't answer but someone else asked:
"Who are you?"
A small woman in big green scrubs walked into the room like she owned it. A surgical mask and stethoscope dangled around her neck. She glanced at Josie, grabbed Hannah's chart, spent some time with it, looked at the monitors and finally at Hannah, yet it was clear she was waiting for an answer.
"Josie Baylor-Bates." Josie slid her hand away from Hannah.
"You don't exactly look like a relative? Only relatives are supposed to be in here." The woman in scrubs hung the chart back on the end of the bed.
"I'm her attorney. The cops called my office. I just got the message."
"Attorney, huh?" The woman actually smiled. "Guess in some cases that might qualify as family. You must have got here before he did."
"Who?" Josie looked over her shoulder.
"There's a cop outside," the woman said matter-of-factly. "He's not supposed to let anyone in or out. I told him it's not like this baby is going anywhere any time soon, poor thing. I told him he might as well go home, but he looks like he's digging in."
The woman adjusted the drip tube on Hannah's IV. She looked at a monitor above the bed once more.
"I'm Fran Taglia. I caught her in emergency." Doctor Taglia stepped back, her expression one of compassionate detachment. "She doesn't look like a murderer."
"This one isn't even close," Josie muttered. "Do you know what happened?"
"Not the details, just that it was a car accident. They must have hit her hard." Taglia sighed and crossed her arms. "I'd like to say she's a lucky girl, but I don't think this kid has had a stroke of luck in her life. I was following her trial. I figured you worked things out, because I haven't heard a peep lately."
"We've had a recess. Unfortunately, we'll be back on the front pages when the press gets wind of this. She was supposed to be monitored twenty-four/seven."
"You don't have to worry about that now. We're a twenty-four/seven kind of place."
Doctor Taglia put her hand out and held onto the IV stand like she was leaning on a fence post. From across the hall came the sounds of Jeopardy. A muted call bell rang. Dinner trays clanged while they were collected. The scents of alcohol and medicine, bodies long unwashed, salves and creams overwhelmed Josie. Taglia was immune to it all.
"We're going to keep Hannah heavily sedated so she won't move her head," she said. "There's some swelling on the brain. Her neck's bad. There's a hairline crack at the base of her skull and a big one on the right side of her head. We've already been inside to take care of the internal bleeding. She had a ruptured spleen, and a collapsed lung. Taken together it seems overwhelming, but Hannah is young, she's in good shape. She'll get over everything if she wants to." Doctor Taglia straightened up. "I saw her arms. She's a cutter. There's a lot of hurt with cutters. Maybe she'll just lie there and wish herself away."
"No," Josie answered positively, "she won't do that. We've come too far for her to do that."
"Unless she didn't want to go as far as you did," Taglia mused.
"I guess we won't know until she wakes up, will we?" Josie raised her brows.
"Guess not." Doctor Taglia checked her watch. She had better things to do than debate a lawyer. "There's a call button right behind her head. If she moves, ring."
"If anyone calls you it will be me, not her." Linda Rayburn filled the doorway for an instant then stormed into the room. "I want that woman out of here now, and I want to know who let her in. Only family is supposed to be in here and I sure as hell don't count her as family. Now get her out."
"Hey," Doctor Taglia stopped Linda with a word and a hand on her shoulder. "I think you better keep your voice down."
"And you better keep out of my way." Linda ripped Taglia's hand off her shoulder. "I'm Hannah's mother and I want to be alone with my daughter until the doctor who treated her can find some time to come up and talk to me."
Linda tried to push her way past Taglia but the doctor wasn't easily moved. This time she had Linda's arm and she gave it a yank, keeping her tone friendly and concerned.
"Well that's just fine because I'm the doctor in charge. Now let's calm down or that man outside this door will help you into the waiting room so you can cool off."
Doctor Taglia cocked an eyebrow, silenced Linda, and took her hand.
"Good girl. I'm glad you're here. Hannah needs a reason to come back to the land of the living. What she doesn't need is a knock down drag out at her bedside. She's drugged up pretty good but that doesn't mean she can't hear and feel. So, are we on the same page?"
Linda drew herself to her full height and pulled her hand away from Taglia.
"Yes. Now, may I please request that only the family be allowed in this room?"
"Linda," Josie said, "Give me a few minutes. That's all I want."
The look Linda shot Josie was loathsome.
"It's your fault she's hurt, Josie. She was running away. She couldn't take this fighting and bickering any more. She didn't want you to. . ."
Josie moved away from Hannah's bed, mindful that the sleeping girl might hear her. Instinctively, Linda shadowed Josie.
"Linda I need to know where you were last night before I talk to Rudy Klein and Judge Norris. I need to know, now."
"You're going to lay this on me? That is rich." Josie turned her head away from Linda's venomous whispers. Linda ducked hers to make sure Josie looked at her. "What do you know about being a mother? You never even had one. You don't know about the choices you have to make to protect your kid. Last night I was damned no matter what I did. You don't think this is going to make me feel like shit for the rest of my life?"
A deep fury exploded inside Josie, but she lowered her voice even further so Linda would be the only one to hear what she had to say.
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