I landed in the scrub by the side of the road. Footsteps crunched across my drive, but I was already running, and pushed through the bushes to the south of my property. My only hope of haggling my way out of a murder rap was to identify my patron, and these cops were intent on robbing me of the liberty to do that, so I flew through thick foliage.
Branches tried to stop me, but I was desperate, and I took the nicking, scratching, and scoring pain, increasing my pace when I heard sirens nearby. The cherry glow of the police cruisers lit up the night.
These cops thought I was a murderer and mutilator and that they’d discovered me with my next victim in my car. As far as they were concerned, I was a monster, and this was a Most Wanted manhunt. I didn’t expect gentle care if they took me into custody. The thought spurred me a little faster, but in the main I knew my life was over if I didn’t find the person who’d instigated the murders. I’d pulled the trigger, but I’d been manipulated by someone who wanted these people dead for unknown reasons. The mutilations suggest some kind of revenge or punishment.
I ran through the bushes and burst into my neighbor’s garden. Motion-activated lights illuminated the place immediately, and it seemed as though the glare was burning me as I raced across the lawn toward the fence on the other side. Darkness was my friend. Light would shine me toward prison.
I climbed over the fence and forced my way through more bushes until I reached another lawn. A dog barked and came sprinting toward me. A Doberman, all bright white fangs and black snarls. I ran to my right and flew up and over a chain-link fence while the dog snapped loud barks at me from the other side.
I ran onto a quiet road and slowed to a walk. I needed help, somewhere to lie low, but my roster of friends had run thin. I couldn’t trust Jim, and I didn’t want to put Toni and Skye in even more danger. A face filled my mind, the only person who’d shown me any real kindness recently. Felicity’s work would make her naturally suspicious of cops and the instruments of justice, and she’d seemed kind and understanding.
I took out my phone and dialed the number she’d given me.
“Hello?” Felicity said.
“It’s Peyton Collard, we…”
“Peyton. I remember.”
“Listen, I could really use a place to crash. I’ve run into some trouble. I know it’s late and we hardly know each other, but I can pay.”
“Are you calling as a client or a friend?” she asked.
“Friend,” I said.
“Then let’s be friends and not talk about money. I’m just finishing for the night. I can meet you at my apartment.”
She gave me an address near Venice Beach.
“Thanks,” I said.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I certainly didn’t deserve it.
“See you soon,” she replied before hanging up.
I smiled. Felicity had made me feel good, and she was helping me in my time of need. Something about her just felt right.