Kane laughed. “That would never do. How about money? I’d be glad to loan you some.”
“I have that covered,” Lee told him. “I made it to the bank just before closing time.”
“Good,” Kane said. “We’re off.”
An hour and twenty minutes later they were sitting opposite each other in Caputo’s Italian Restaurant. A very nice place that was adjacent to the Grove Shopping Mall. Lee had no choice but to carry her weapons and the holsters in a shopping bag until she could buy at least one jacket. “So, you’re back on the job,” Kane said. “What’s next?”
“Some clothes and girl things,” Lee replied. “Plus a place to live. Remember what you said about the room dedicated to my father? That’s gone now. Along with everything related to him.”
“Yes,” Kane said. “I do remember. So you have an opportunity to start anew.”
“Exactly,” Lee said, as she took a sip of wine.
“Here’s an idea,” Kane said. “Why not stay with me while you look for an apartment? You’re already familiar with the guest room—not to mention the resident chef.”
Lee eyed him over the rim of her glass. “Is this yet another part of your plan to seduce me?”
Kane nodded. “Yes, but the process is taking forever.”
Lee laughed. “Sorry, I promise to become seducible in the near future.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Maybe, but there’s something I want you to consider.”
“Which is?”
“I’m a target. Something you experienced during our first date. The same thing could happen again.”
Kane smiled. “I’m aware of that. You warned me earlier.”
“Yet you’re willing to hang out with me anyway?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I’m glad you are.”
The food arrived at that point, and it was very good. Once the meal was over they went to the mall where, in keeping with Wolfe’s prediction, Lee bought a week’s worth of jeans, tee shirts, and a couple of waist-length jackets. Some underwear and a pair of combat boots completed the interim wardrobe. Then Kane drove her to his condo, helped carry her shopping bags upstairs, and promised to wake her at 5:00 A.M. A cop was missing—and Lee was determined to find her.
* * *
Baxter produced a grunt of pain as the riding crop cut into her left breast. Dr. Mike nodded knowingly. “That hurt, didn’t it, bitch? More than you’re letting on. And it will get worse tomorrow.”
The so-called Equipment Room was located at the back of the concrete building and was furnished with thousands of dollars worth of S&M gear. That included an X-shaped rack, an adjustable torture table, and all manner of “gear.”
Ropes had been fastened to the leather cuffs on Baxter’s wrists. And by passing them through ceiling-mounted pulleys, Dr. Mike had been able to hoist the policewoman up so that her feet were six inches off the floor. Then, by pulling her ankles apart and securing them to ring bolts set into the concrete, the vet had been able to expose every part of her. And not just for his enjoyment. No, thanks to the video Fred was making, hundreds if not thousands of other people would get to see Torment 3.
Like Dr. Mike, Fred was wearing a black hood to protect her identity. But, except for a garter belt, fishnet stockings, and a pair of red high heels, she was naked. Something that would be apparent to viewers after the footage from a stationary camera was cut into the final production.
Meanwhile Fred was getting medium and tight shots using a handheld camera. She zoomed in to capture the red welt left by the riding crop as well as the hypodermic needle that was sticking through Baxter’s nipple. All of which was preliminary to the final scene, which would be recorded soon. Once the final denouement was over, Fred would edit the snuff film and sell it to a distributor in the red zone. He would charge collectors up to five hundred eagles per copy. It was, to Fred’s way of thinking, an enjoyable way to make some extra money.
* * *
Baxter didn’t know which was worse. To see the next blow coming—or to be caught by surprise. But that was a tactical issue. Of more importance was to save as much of her personhood as she could. The LAPD was searching for her, of that she was sure, but what would they find? A basket case? Or a person who could recover from what she’d been through and live a normal life? You aren’t going to die tonight, Baxter told herself. Dr. Mike said that the pain will get worse tomorrow. And that’s a good thing.
The cop struck her right breast, causing Baxter to utter a yelp of pain. “She felt that one,” Dr. Mike said to the camera. “Now watch this.”
* * *
Kane dropped Lee off at 6:30 A.M., and by 7:00, she was in a meeting with Yanty and Prospo. Both looked tired. “Good to have you back,” Yanty said. “Even if you are a crap magnet.”
“I like the new look,” Prospo added. “Oh, wait a minute, it’s the same look.”
Lee grinned. “Thanks . . . I feel better now. All right . . . What, if anything, have we got?”
Prospo looked at Yanty, who shrugged. “The truth is that we don’t have anything worth talking about. We finished the photo comparison process an hour ago. There were three bumpers that had some sort of vise bolted to them—but only one that was located on the right side. That belonged to a plumber in Nuevo, but the truck was totaled two months ago.”
“And the DMV sticker.”
“Nada.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
All of them were silent for a while. Lee felt as if she should provide some sort of guidance. Some glimmer of hope. But she had nothing to offer. Finally she gave the only instructions she could. “Okay . . . Let’s pull up pictures of the trucks that belong to the vets in LA County and check them out.”
Yanty groaned. “You must be kidding.”
“Got a better idea?”
“No.”
“Then let’s get to work. There are three of us this time, so the work will go more quickly.”
It took more than an hour to pull up all the vet licenses for LA County, compare the names to DMV database, select the vehicles identified as trucks, download the related photo files, and divide by three. Then came the mind-numbing work of plowing through Lee’s share of the list. She was two and a half hours into the process when her new disposable phone rang. She eyed the incoming call, saw that it was from ENOB9, and placed her thumb on the green bar. “Yeah?”
“I have the bastard,” the Bonebreaker said.
Lee felt a sudden surge of hope. “What does that mean?”
“I’m in Nuevo, and when I pulled into the drive-through for the local burger joint, I found myself behind a pickup. It has a utility bumper complete with the DMV sticker on the left and a vise on the right.”
Lee’s heart began to beat like a trip-hammer. “Where are you now?”
“Where the hell do you think I am? I’m following the truck.”
“Have you got a license number for me?”
The Bonebreaker read it off, and Lee wrote it down. “What kind of vehicle are you driving?”
The Bonebreaker laughed. “Get serious.”
“Okay, I’m on the way.”
“Come alone,” the Bonebreaker said. “If cops swarm the area the deal is off.”
Lee swallowed. “Give him plenty of room, and if he stops, let me know immediately.”
“Stop talking and get your butt in gear,” the Bonebreaker replied. Then the line went dead.
Lee ran the license number, and bingo, there it was: Dr. Michael Valentine. She entered the name into her browser and got a second hit. Valentine was a vet all right—with offices in Nuevo. Now she was in a bind. The Bonebreaker wanted her to go to Nuevo alone, but that was a bad idea. It could be a trap for one thing. A way to get her alone so he could kill her.
But that was just the tip of the iceberg. She had her badge back but was sure to lose it again if she ignored the LAPD protocols that applied to such situations. And there was zero
chance that Corso would save her ass the second time around.
Plus there was the fact that the town of Nuevo was outside of the LAPD’s jurisdiction. And that meant all sorts of shit would fly if she rolled into town and made an arrest. So Lee made the decision to do something radical, for her anyway, and that was to consult with her boss. Wolfe was in her office. She looked up from her terminal. “Yes?”
“I need help,” Lee said. “And I need it fast.”
Wolfe’s eyes widened. “What’s up?”
“One of my informants is tailing the vehicle that Vasquez was abducted in and was probably used to dump his body. It belongs to a vet named Dr. Michael Valentine. He has offices in Nuevo, and if he’s holding Baxter, then every second counts.”
Wolfe frowned. “Nuevo is outside our jurisdiction.”
“Correct. And, if my informant sees any cops, he’s going to break it off.”
“Is your informant wanted?”
“Big-time.”
This was a critical moment from Lee’s perspective. Would Wolfe step up? Or create a committee and convene a meeting? The answer came quickly as Wolfe stood and made a grab for her purse. “We’ll take my car. You drive while I take care of the logistics.”
Lee didn’t have the temporary driver’s permit yet—but decided to ignore that as they ran for the elevator. It took them down to the parking area where they hurried over to Wolfe’s sedan. Lee had the siren and grill lights going by the time they hit the street. She was on I-5 within a matter of minutes and swore steadily as some of the motorists took their own sweet time about pulling over. The car sped south to the junction with 60 and turned east. From there it was a straight shot. As Lee drove Wolfe made use of her cell phone and the car’s radio to get the necessary arrangements in place. And because it was her, rather than Lee, there was very little pushback.
Lee was going eighty, and waiting for a semi to pull over, when her phone rang. She brought it up to her right ear. “Yeah?”
“The truck pulled into the parking lot in front of an outfit called Valentine Animal Boarding, and a man got out. He entered the building.”
Lee already had two addresses for Valentine, but it made sense to check. “What’s the street address?”
The Bonebreaker told her, and Lee was careful to repeat it so Wolfe could hear it. “Thanks,” Lee said. “Let me know if he leaves.”
“Bullshit,” the Bonebreaker said. “I’m out of here.” The line went dead.
“Asshole,” Lee said, as she placed the phone on the center console.
Wolfe looked at her. “Meaning the informant?”
“Yeah . . . He took off. But we’ve got the perp, assuming he stays where he is,” Lee said. “What were you able to put together?”
“We have a green light from Jenkins, and once I give them the address, the county mounties will throw a perimeter around the place. Hopefully your guy won’t notice—but it sounds like he’s out of there anyway.”
“Outstanding,” Lee said, as she passed a huge RV. “Did you bring a weapon?”
“Of course.”
“Good. You might need it.”
Lee managed to cut a trip that was supposed to take an hour and twenty minutes down to forty. She killed the lights and the siren as they passed through the screen that had been thrown up by the sheriff. By that time Wolfe had authorized them to tighten the cordon—and send a unit to Valentine’s clinic.
“Okay,” Lee said, as they neared the location. “There were at least two people involved in the Vasquez murder—so we’ll need to be on the lookout for a second perp.”
“Roger that,” Wolfe said, as she checked her Glock.
“Bingo!” Lee said, as she pulled into the lot. “There it is. See the DMV sticker on the bumper? And the vise? My informant was correct.”
“It looks like all of the tires are flat,” Wolfe observed. “Your guy perhaps?”
“That’s how it looks,” Lee agreed, as she turned the engine off.
“We don’t have a warrant so we’ll have to bullshit our way in,” Wolfe said as she put the pistol away. “I’ll take the lead.” All Lee could do was nod.
Gravel crunched underfoot as they got out of the car and made their way up to the front door. A sign read, “Push the button for service,” and Lee saw that a keypad was mounted next to the entrance, and a camera was peering down at them. That was a whole lot security for a boarding facility. A disembodied voice said, “Yes? How can I help you?”
“I have a horse,” Wolfe replied. “And I’m looking for a place where I can leave him for a month or so.”
“I’m sure we can help you,” the woman said. “Please come in.” There was a click as the lock was released. Wolfe opened the door and entered first. They found themselves in a sparsely furnished office. A woman was seated behind the reception desk—and Lee could see a glassed-in office beyond that. A man was seated with his back to the visitors. The perp? Lee felt her pulse begin to race.
As the receptionist turned to look at the policewomen, Lee saw the look of instant recognition on her face. Because she hadn’t bothered to study the images on the security monitor? But was very familiar with the news coverage related to the Vasquez murder? Yes!
Lee was about to intervene when the woman brought a taser up from a drawer and shot Wolfe in the chest. She jerked spasmodically and fell.
Lee knew the weapon could be fired up to three times in quick succession and went for the Glock. The pistol came out of the new holster smoothly and jumped in her hand. The slug passed through one of the receptionist’s sky blue eyes and killed her instantly.
Then Lee heard a loud bang and turned to see that the man had disappeared. The noise had been caused by a door’s hitting the wall as he escaped into the back of the building.
Lee glanced at Wolfe, saw the agonized expression on the other woman’s face, and knew she’d be out of action for at least ten minutes. That left Lee with no choice but to proceed alone.
As Lee approached the open door, the fire alarm came on, causing her to wonder if the perp was trying to burn the place down. But as she stepped into the area where the animals were stabled it quickly became apparent that the suspect had something else in mind. Since escaping the office the perp had been able to open at least a dozen stalls. So when the alarm went off many of the animals bolted out of their enclosures and went looking for a way to escape the shrieking noise.
Lee had to jump aside as a badly panicked horse charged straight at her. Then she had to run from stall to stall as a menagerie of mules, donkeys, and goats thundered back and forth, all adding their own unique noises to the hellish cacophony inside the barn.
The perp was trying to slow her down. That much was obvious. But why? To escape out the back? If so, that was fine with Lee. He wouldn’t get far. Not with four flat tires and a bunch of deputies waiting for him.
But what if the bastard had something else in mind? What if Baxter was being held in a room somewhere? Maybe he planned to use her as a hostage. Or, worse yet, the sick son of a bitch might kill her!
Lee managed to sidestep a braying donkey as she pushed forward. Then a bullet blew a splinter out of the support post to her right, and Lee caught a brief glimpse of a man standing on top of a divider, pointing a pistol at her. Then he was gone as a cloud of dust rose to envelop the scene.
Lee swore, dropped into a crouch, and continued to advance. There was a second gunshot as she dashed across an aisle and a horse screamed in pain. And that produced even more panic. But Lee was almost at the back of the barn by then. And, as someone turned the alarm off, she advanced with the Glock at the ready. That was when the man appeared with an arm wrapped around Baxter’s throat. She was nude, Lee could see ugly-looking welts on her body, and it looked as though the vet was supporting most of the police officer’s weight. He was also holding a gun to Baxter’s head. “Back off!” he grated. “Back off, or the bitch dies.”
“If she dies, you die,” Lee countered. “So let’s cut the
crap. If you were going to blow her brains out you’d have done it by now. So release Officer Baxter and put the weapon down.”
“No!” he said emphatically. “I want . . .”
Lee never got to hear what the perp wanted because that was the moment when Baxter came back to life. Her head came up, she snarled, and turned in on Valentine. That threw him off-balance. He fired and the bullet creased Baxter’s skull. The vet tried to react, but was too slow, as Baxter grabbed his shirt and brought a knee up into his crotch. As he bent over in pain, she made use of both hands to club the back of his neck.
The revolver came loose as he fell and Baxter hurried to scoop it up. And then, with the gun pointed at his back and blood running down her cheek, she began the legal litany. “You are under arrest. You have the right to . . . to . . .” Then she collapsed.
FIFTEEN
ABOUT A HUNDRED people were gathered on the plaza in front of the angular LAPD headquarters building. The press conference began at precisely 5:30 P.M., so that the local TV stations could carry it live.
The chief of police was present . . . As were Jenkins, Wolfe, and Lee. But rather than talk about the team, Corso chose to tell the story of a brave police officer named Jennifer Baxter who, even after being tortured for days, still found the strength required to turn on her captor at the last moment. And would have arrested him herself had it not been for the extent of her injuries.
Very little attention was paid to the events that led up to that moment, or to Lee’s role in the arrest, and that was fine with her. Baxter deserved the praise that was being heaped on her—and the last thing Lee wanted was more publicity.
As for Dr. Michael Valentine, AKA the Bonebreaker, he was being held on multiple counts of murder. And thanks to the fact that he and his assistant had chosen to videotape their crimes, a guilty verdict was a foregone conclusion.
So after updating the press on Baxter’s condition, Corso opened the press conference to questions, most of which were directed to him. But Carla Zumin saw Lee and was quick to pounce. “So, Detective Lee,” she said. “Congratulations regarding your part in the rescue. According to the department’s press release, the critical tip came in to you. Who provided that tip? And why did they contact you?”
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