“Those federal guys have reached out to state police and are looking for us,” Walker said.
“Then put these on,” Granger said. He reached across to the glove compartment, pulled out two sets of old-school metal handcuffs and passed them to Walker. In the next motion, he took the service lane, plugged in a magnetic blue flashing light and put it on the roof of the Crown Vic.
Monica, suddenly awake, looked to Walker, uncertainty in her eyes.
Walker put his cuffs on. He clicked in one wrist, and made the other sit on his lap, as if closed. He motioned to Monica to do the same, but she looked apprehensive.
“Just do it,” Walker said.
Monica put her cuffs on. CLICK CLICK.
Just as Granger rolled up to the state police cars, an officer moved over from where he was inspecting a vehicle and held out a hand for them to stop. He was a motorbike cop: leather jacket, boots, sunglasses, his helmet on the handle of his bike parked by the emergency lane.
“Tell them you’re taking us in,” Walker said into Granger’s ear. “Tell them to keep the roadblock set up, that there’s a third man they’re looking out for.”
Granger was silent but he gave a tiny nod as he brought the car to a stop, and the cop moved around to his window as it wound down.
“Officer,” Granger said. He flashed his wallet. Or a wallet. Walker couldn’t see it, but it must have been his old badge, for Granger said, “Burbank PD.”
“Detective. We’re screening for three fugitives, sir.”
“Listen to me, son,” Granger said in a low voice. “I’m taking these two in.”
The cop looked into the back seat and went a little wide-eyed at the faces.
“That’s right.”
“Where’s the third person? Conway?”
Walker was not surprised to learn that their names and images were out there; the cop had recognized them and distinguished who was missing.
“No idea,” Granger replied. “But it’s imperative that you keep this roadblock up and continue to look for him, and that you keep this under a tight lid.”
“Sir?”
“If Conway finds out his accomplices have been taken in, he’d go to ground. If he thinks he’s got a chance for escape, he’ll keep running.”
“I’ll need to talk to my sergeant.”
“Son, you’ve seen the news? The cyber attacks?”
“Yes.”
“This is the captive’s sister.”
“His . . .” the cop looked into the car. “For real?”
“That’s right. This isn’t a man-hunt to apprehend them. It’s to locate and detain them until this ends—for their own safety.”
“But . . .” The cop had his hand on his radio.
“Chuck, right?” Granger said, looking at the name plate pinned to the cop’s jacket. “I’ll remember that. I’ll tell your sergeant and your captain how professional and thorough you’ve been. But I have to get these two back to LA. Just look out for the third guy. He’s out there, won’t be far off.”
“I—”
“Son, if you put this over the radio, then the people who have this lady’s brother might well just come for her. And they’re a hell of a lot scarier than you or me or all your buddies here. This has to be quiet. I have to get them into town.”
“Sir, okay.” Chuck looked over at his colleagues and tapped his watch to signal he was off. “I’ll do as you say. But I’ll escort you.”
“Chuck . . .”
“That’s the best I can offer, sir. You follow me right on in, and I’ll drop you to where you need to get to, and I’ll make sure you’re all there safe.”
Granger glanced ever so slightly at Walker in the rearview mirror.
“Okay,” he said. “Lead the way.”