chapter eighteen

I left word for Jo not to expect me back early. Four hours later I met Frank outside the Clamshell Casino in Clara Vista.

The casino lay in an outgrowth of urban sprawl just a little further north of Clara Vista proper. It was one of those smaller operations that catered to the senior crowd, a place and time the developers momentarily forgot. Centered in a large patchwork of parking lots, the casino was flanked by the green cross of a marijuana outlet at one end and a drive-through Chinese-Mexican joint at the other. Two big north and south facing entrances and exits gaped like giant maws gobbling up and spitting out gamblers into the traffic of the surrounding streets.

Dr. Gabriel Lee’s Lexus was parked two aisles down from the Casino’s main entrance. Frank was already stationed near the north exit. Upon arrival, I’d driven through the Take a Bao and Burrito and picked up food for us both, pepper chicken for me and spring rolls with black beans for Frank.

When I rapped on his window, Frank startled. His face was squashed pink from the door. It was obvious he hadn’t been to bed since I’d first called him yesterday, and he looked even worse than he had over the phone.

But Lee’s Lexus hadn’t budged from its parking space since the scientist pulled in three hours ago, and we had the tracker on him, so I let the nap ride. After dropping off Frank’s food, I returned to my car, parked near the south exit so Lee couldn’t slip past us unseen, and waited. I called Frank up on my Porsches’ vid-phone.

“What does your fortune say, Frank?”

“I should have bought gold in 2007.”

Grinning, I set my fortune cookie aside and dug into the pepper chicken.

As we watched and ate, Frank launched into one of his golden oldies.

“Remember that moke who got out of prison and the same day he’s back into B&E? Only he forgot he already ripped off that house? The old guy inside, however, has not forgotten. So when the moke goes in this time, he has a close encounter with a double barrel shotgun.” Frank chuckled. “Fate caught up with him.”

When we’d been partners in NOHO, Frank hadn’t been one to dwell on the past. He was reveling in it now though, laughing and gesticulating with gusto. I let him relive the old days.

Frank chattered on. I finished my chicken and tossed the remains back in the bag. “What you say we expedite and wrap this up?” I said after he’d finished another story and started to repeat his recitation of the first golden oldie. “Lee should have lost all his money by now.”

“Sure. Let me make the approach.” Frank clipped the little body camera onto his lapel. “That’s what you hired me for.”

It killed me to take the back seat, but Frank was right. Besides, the camera would give me a front-line view of Lee. “Okay, I’ll stay back in case he slips out.”

Frank headed in, and I watched from my Porsche.

The casino had a big open floor with ten rows of clanging slot machines closest to the door. Beyond the slots were the roulette and blackjack tables. Three additional rooms branched off the back, a small area for poker, and a larger space for sports betting and bingo. Bright lighting and unobtrusive cameras stood sentinel overhead. No clocks anywhere distracted customers with unwelcome reminders of time slipping away, along with their money.

Frank didn’t even have to circle the floor once. Dr. Lee sat, shoulders hunched and elbows planted at the blackjack table, a squat glass of whisky and a small stack of chips to his right. He looked even thinner than he had in the video, shrunken. The shadows pooling under his eyes were darker and his complexion had taken on a dull grayish cast. But his lips were curled in a hopeful smile. Lee must have won a hand.

There were several open seats around the blackjack table. I watched Frank take the one on Lee’s right.

“Excuse, me, Dr. Lee?” Frank signaled to the server to bring Lee another round. “Could I talk to you for a second?” Frank kept his tone light and polite. He held out his private investigator’s license and introduced himself.

Lee’s head tipped to the side like an inquisitive dog. The smile disappeared, but his face remained calm as he accepted the drink. “What about?”

“I’d like to ask you a couple questions about Britney Devonshire.”

The eyes widened the second Lee heard the name. “Sure. Would you excuse me for just a second though? Too much whiskey.” He slowly rose to his feet and turned as if to go to the can.

Watching from my Porsche, I felt it before it happened. I punched the ignition as Lee whirled round and knocked over his chair onto the seated Frank. As Frank untangled his animatronic arm from the chair, Lee bolted for the front door, leaving his pile of chips on the table.

Red-faced, Frank recovered and followed, but Lee had a head start.

I had Lee’s Lexus up on the screen before the scientist made it out the door.

I called Frank as Lee scurried to his car.

“Don’t sweat it, Frank,” I said. “We’ve got the tracker on him. Besides, his reaction told me half of what I wanted to know.” The deceased’s name alone was enough to make Lee run. He was scared, and he looked guilty as hell. Shin would have to reopen the case and pull Dr. Lee in for questioning.

As I followed Lee from a distance, I hit the satellite map and traffic system, scanning options.

Frank was back in his Toyota. I could hear his labored breathing and mumbled self-recriminations.

“Lee’s heading to PCH,” I said. “Take the shortcut on Vista Drive to get ahead of him. You’re front. I’m follow. But give him room. Let’s just see where he lands.”

“Roger that.” Frank raced ahead, managing to pull out onto PCH three cars in front of Lee.

There we were driving along the strip of coastline—Frank in the blue clunker up front, staying well ahead of the speeding silver Lexus SUV, and me bringing up the rear in my black Porsche—hugging the curves as we headed north, a sheer drop to the left. I kept to the speed limit.

We drove for about forty-five minutes. During that time, Lee calmed down enough to slow the Lexus to 70 mph. Where was he heading? Did he know, or was he just running?

As Lee calmed down, Frank ramped up. His mumbling stopped, and I could hear the adrenaline surge in his voice. “Just like the old days, huh, Eddie?”

That’s when I noticed fluid leaking from Lee’s car. There’d been no sign of a leak back in the parking lot, but now liquid trickled out and left a clear trail.

“Frank,” I said. “Let him go.” I told Frank about the leak and pulled way back.

“Your show,” Frank said. “But I think we should play it out.”

“It’s not a chase, Frank. The last thing I need is another black mark on my jacket.”

“Just let me push him a little. I can nail this.” Frank slowed down just as Lee sped up, boxing the Lexus in.

That’s when Lee must have suddenly realized the old guy in the poky Corolla was the same guy from the casino. Lee’s answer was to try to pass Frank in a no-passing zone. Just as the two lanes going north narrowed into one. A construction zone. Frank sped up.

A widening plume of fluid from Lee’s car painted the road now.

“Frank,” I said, speeding up too. “Get out of there now.”

With Lee sandwiched between Frank out ahead and me coming up from behind in my Porsche, we cornered another turn, tires screeching now. The road grade grew steeper. That’s when Lee started to panic. He punched the gas and jerked the wheel, veering onto the shoulder of the road.

I heard a small bang and saw a plume of greasy smoke rise from under Lee’s car. Suddenly the leak gushed like a severed artery. I drove over a mare’s tail of spilled fluid.

Lee opened his windows. Careening wildly over three lanes of highway, Lee reached over and grabbed something from the glove department. I saw the black shape as Lee sat back up and drew parallel with Frank’s car.

“Taser, Frank! Punch it!” I yelled and braked hard, but Lee fired into my partner’s open passenger-side window.

The taser’s harpoon whizzed through the open window and stuck in Frank’s animatronic arm. His seat belt kept Frank pinned to the car seat. The sharp jerk of the fifteen-foot line wrenched the taser out of Lee’s hand, sending it whirling out the window. It spun around Frank’s Toyota like a steel tether ball until it smashed into the rear window screen.

A golden halo encircled Frank’s dark blue Toyota. Frank slumped over the wheel, his animatronic arm ripped off his shoulder and wedged in the frame of the car door.

Lee punched the gas and wrenched his steering wheel to the right. But his tires slid on the leaking plume of greasy fluid, skidding into the dead Corolla at 70 mph. Lee sent Frank’s Toyota hurtling off the cliff. I heard the explosion as Frank’s car hit the rocks below.

I swerved, riding two feet up the lip of the mountain on the passenger side, and steered hard to avoid the collision. It was a miracle I didn’t flip or hit anything but rocks.

The texting driver in the southbound BMW wasn’t so lucky. Other drivers stopped or swerved in time, but the distracted BMW guy looked up from his phone just in time to see the Lexus sitting there in the middle of the road, facing him.

The BMW rammed Lee’s Lexus and sent it spinning into the telephone pole on the mountain. I pulled over and raced out of my Porsche. Frank’s Toyota was swallowed in flames, a fireball raging twenty feet below.I’d only scrambled a couple steps down the cliff when the hot blast from the second explosion hit me like a force field, slamming me up and back into the cliff.

“Frank,” I croaked. But there was no way to get down there. I stood watching—helpless.

That’s when I heard Lee’s strangled yell for help up above.

I scrambled back up the cliff. A little river of gasoline slithered out from under his car. I hit the auto-emergency icon on my glove phone.

The BMW driver sat in his car without moving, eyes wide and round, white-knuckled hands gripped tight around the steering wheel.

“Get out and get back!” I yelled at him, slamming my hand on his car door to jolt him out of his shock. “Way back!” I yanked his arm and propelled him towards safety.

The BMW driver stirred and stumbled back two hundred feet. I raced to Lee’s Lexus and forced open the driver’s side door, but he was already an accident cyborg—a big spear of telephone pole, metal, and flesh melded into one bloody mess. The airbags had inflated, but he hadn’t been wearing a seat belt. There was no way I could get Lee out without disemboweling him.

“Hang on,” I said. “Help’s coming.”

Lee was still conscious. He stared at me with a puzzled, almost vacant look. Shock. He closed his eyes, chin falling to his chest.

“Please identify yourself,” the maddeningly calm emergency services voice on the other end of my phone said. She asked for details.

“Detective Eddie Piedmont.” I gave coordinates and requested ambulance and firetruck. ASAP.

“Piedmont?” Lee tried to sit back up. His eyes went wild like a terrified horse. He grabbed my arm hard with his bloody claw. “They got to you too?” His voice was a hoarse croak. “Like Fuentes.”

I locked eyes with him. “Who’s Fuentes?”

“Since their talk? A dead man.”

“Who’s they?” I said, taking hold of the arm that grabbed mine. “What are you talking about?”

Lee’s mouth opened, but the strangled sounds were no longer intelligible. Choking out syllables, he struggled to speak. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital, let alone the interview room.

“Tell me about Britney,” I said, grabbing his shirt. “Britney Devonshire. Did she blackmail you?”

His face was ashen now. He nodded.

“Did you kill her? Is that why you ran?”

His mouth opened and closed. “3.3.3 . . .1.1,1,0.” Lee pointed at me. “Fa-ther . . .” The rest of his words drowned in his own blood. I ripped off my suit jacket and wadded it up, trying to staunch the flow. Lee was rambling, but held my arm in a death grip.

“Did you kill Britney?” I pressed. “Did you?”

Lee shook his head. He opened his mouth to say more, but all that came out was a gush of red. His head drooped like a cut flower wilting in a blast of heat.

The smell of spilled gas was sharp. I pried off his arm and ran back to my car for the first aid kit. Maybe I could find something to keep him alive. But before I could open the trunk of my Porsche, Lee’s Lexus exploded.

The blast hurtled me five feet into a close encounter with the tarmac. Skin skidded on pavement. When I dragged myself upright, there wasn’t much to do besides watch in horror.

The wall of flames from Frank’s car matched the fireball in front of me. I couldn’t breathe. But it wasn’t the pain of the fire that doubled me up.

I heard a long, drawn out animal scream. The stranger howling was me.