The Night Crew

Chapter 28

Clark's apartment was in Westwood, six blocks from the music building. Halfway there, A

'We should have made time,' Harper said. They were halfway to Clark's apartment complex. 'And what else can we do? I mean, we could still call Wyatt, and have the cops do it.'

'No.'

A

Not violent. Not that she'd ever seen. When he got angry, he got sullen, a cool, withdrawing anger, not a hot, plate-throwing tantrum. He'd never tear her house up.

On the other hand, her house wasn't really torn up. Just the broken window. And the guy had to break a window, if he wanted to get in the house. The destruction wasn't wanton.

Except for the pot. What had he done with that pot?

A

'Jake.' She grabbed his arm. 'Jake: we gotta go back to my place. Now.'

Exasperated. 'A

'Jake, forget it, we gotta go back.'

'Why?'

'Something happened to my flowerpot.'

The pot had been there earlier in the day. She didn't remember seeing it, but she would have missed it. It was simply part of the landscape.

Harper trailed A

'Yeah. It's not him,' A

Wyatt shook his head and returned to the phone.

At the back door, A

'I can't see anything,' Harper said, scuffing around in the grass.

'I'll get a flashlight,' A

The depression where the pot had stood was a clear ring of raw dirt in the grass going down to the canal. And two feet toward the canal, a lump of dirt that had probably been inside the pot.

A

She stepped back, shivered, turned and went up on the porch: 'Hey, you guys,' she yelled. 'You better come out here.'

She thought of Pam in the water, anchored by the pot; swallowed. Please don't let it be. Please.

One of the crime-scene cops came to the door. 'What?'

A

The cop walked out on the porch, followed by a second one, and then Wyatt, jostling past them.

A

Wyatt looked into the water: 'Oh, Christ,' he said, softly.

The first cop looked down into the water, then dropped face down onto the seawall, reached into the water. Couldn't quite touch whatever it is.

'I'll have to get in,' he said. 'I'll wreck my suit.'

'Put in for it,' Wyatt said.

'Fuck it.' The cop peeled off his jacket, shirt and pants, put his shoes back on, and slipped over the side in his underwear. 'Cold,' he said.

Then he reached down into the murk, and just as quickly pulled his hand back.

'What is it?' A

'Not a body,' he said. 'I don't know.'

Wyatt exhaled, glanced at A

The thing came out of the water, and A

Harper: 'A goddamned kayak. That's how he got in and out.'

Wyatt: 'Shit. He's not from here.'

'But somebody must have seen him putting it in, up by.'

And A

'What?'

She grabbed him by the shirt, both hands, her face six inches from his: 'Remember, out at the ranch? The woman, what's her name? Daly? She said Steve Judge was up in Oregon ru

'But he was in Oregon,' Harper said.

'What's this?' Wyatt asked.

A

'He lives in Pasadena,' A

She found an address in her book, pulled the page and handed it to Wyatt.

'Long shot,' Wyatt muttered, as he hurried back into the house.

Another car arrived out front, and as they moved back inside, A

'If Steve's the guy, we oughta go out to the ranch,' A

'Let the cops do it,' Harper said. 'And it's really a long shot.'

'What, send a deputy who doesn't know what's going on? He'd get lost out there, at night. The cops can surround his house in Pasadena, no problem, but if Steve's the guy, and he's up at the ranch, he'd see them coming a million miles away,' A

'A

'Well, what're we go

Harper looked at her, and the cops working in the house, and all the lights and cars, and said, 'I'll need a gun. We can stop at my place. It's on the way.'

They took the San Diego over the hill, moving fast. A

'Don't remember. That sounds good.'

A

'That's it.' A

'Yes. My name is A

'Yes. Do you know what time it is? Steven isn't here.'

A

There was a long hesitation, and then the woman asked, 'Are you with the police?'

'I can have the office in charge of the L. A. County serial-murder task force call you in five minutes, if you have something to say,' A

Another pause. 'And this isn't a joke. We didn't receive anything like this information. before.'

'You mean from Mr Judge?'

'Yes, from Steve. The stalking, I mean, he suggested it might be somewhat the other way around, that's why we.'

'Ma'am, I'm going to have Lieutenant Wyatt from the Santa Monica police departmenthe's the head of the task force for this series of crimesI'm going to have him call you in the next five minutes. Please tell him everything you know.'