“So talk,” he said, trying to focus on his purpose. “Who killed Shana McIntyre and Lorraine Newell?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure.”
“Really,” she insisted.
“You’re saying their deaths are unrelated to your…reappearance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, then, what do you know?”
“That this is getting more complicated than I thought. More dangerous.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
He watched as she swallowed hard, her fingers curling tight over the seat belt. She was finally nervous. Good. Bentz kept his hands steady on the wheel, determined to pin her down.
“How did you know Ramona Salazar?” he asked.
“Who?”
“The last registered owner of this car. How do you know her? How did you get this damned vehicle?”
“It was a gift.”
“From whom?”
“A friend.”
He snapped out of the fantasy. “Don’t do this, okay? No more games. I only agreed to come here with you if you’d talk to me, tell me what was going on, and now you’re talking in circles and riddles. Oh, hell, forget it.” He dug out his cell phone and speed-dialed Hayes.
“No, don’t!” she cried.
“Too late.”
Her lips twisted and she shook her head. “Who are you calling?”
“Who do you think?”
“The police.”
“Bingo!”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, right.” He put the phone to his ear and waited.
Hayes answered on the third ring. “Hayes.”
“It’s Bentz. I’ve got our girl.”
“What?” Hayes asked. “Who?”
“Jennifer. She and I are heading down the coast. To Point Fermin.”
“Why the hell are you going there?”
“Just meet us there.”
“Wait a second, what is this? What the hell’s going on?”
But Bentz clicked off and smiled coldly at the woman. “Better get your story straight, Jennifer. You’ve got a helluva lot of explaining to do.”
CHAPTER 28
“Hold on!” Hayes said, pressing on the earbud of his cell phone. He’d been on his way to interview Tally White when he’d caught the call. “Meet you at Point Fermin? You mean on the peninsula?” But Bentz had already hung up. Hayes tried to call him back, but the son of a bitch wouldn’t answer.
“Jerk!” Sometimes he wondered why he still had Bentz’s back. Bledsoe was right; the guy was a loose cannon.
Hayes made a quick U-turn and received a horn blast from a woman in a gold Mercedes, followed by a quick middle finger from a kid in baseball cap driving a lowrider pickup.
He threaded through traffic on his way to the 110 and San Pedro near Point Fermin, far to the south of the city.
What was Bentz up to, calling in with such disjointed information? Bentz thought he was with Jennifer? That was just plain nuts.
Which would be proved in just a few hours when her remains were exhumed.
But maybe Bentz hadn’t been able to say what he’d really meant, Hayes thought, running an amber light as he maneuvered his Toyota toward the freeway entrance. He called for backup, though he wasn’t sure it was necessary.
“Martinez,” she answered.
“Hey. I might need assistance. Not sure yet.” He filled her in and his partner let out a low whistle.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I’m starting to think that Bledsoe’s right. Bentz has gone loco.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. Just be ready for another wild goose chase.”
“Just the kind of thing I love.”
Olivia took her seat on the jet, tucked between a bulky man who spilled over into her space and a mother with a squirmy toddler on her lap. The little girl, a dark-haired cutie with big eyes and pigtails, stared at Olivia intently as the mother dug into the diaper bag tucked under the seat in front of them. The guy near the window gazed out the glass while baggage thumped and bumped as it was being loaded beneath them.
Olivia tried calling Bentz one last time, left a message that she was on her way to Los Angeles, and turned off her phone. No use worrying. So he wasn’t answering? So what? Nothing new there.
She’d left a message with the motel and with Jonas Hayes, the detective who was Bentz’s friend in LAPD. She’d even put in a call to Montoya to tell him what her plans were, just in case Bentz talked to him before Olivia landed on the West Coast. A few minutes later, the plane was pushed back from the terminal. The little girl beside her started to cry, and the big guy by the window held tight to his iPod so he could plug in the second it was allowed.
Olivia leaned back and closed her eyes, felt the little girl brush up against her. She smiled at the thought that in less than two years, she would be in the same position as the somewhat harried mom, searching for pacifiers and diapers, trying to keep the attention of an active pre-toddler.
A little girl?
A boy?
It didn’t matter.
In a few hours she’d see Bentz again and give him the news.
Smiling, she found she couldn’t wait.
Yes, he might be taken aback, even shocked, but he’d get over it. In the end he would love the idea. And yes, when she saw him he’d fill her in and bring her up to date on what had happened to his ex-wife. Olivia might feel a ridiculous pang of jealousy that he’d spent nearly a week of his life reliving his past with a woman he’d once loved passionately, but she would get over it.
At least they would finally be together again.
And then they waited.
While the big guy next to her sweated and the little girl fussed, the captain announced that there would be a delay. A mechanical difficulty needed to be addressed. Twenty minutes, or maybe a half an hour.
Olivia found her book and opened it. She was anxious, ready to get this trip behind her. Now that she’d decided to fly to Los Angeles to see her husband, she found waiting excruciating.
It’s no big deal, she told herself. Not like an omen or anything. Relax. A few minutes won’t make any difference. You’ll be with Bentz soon.
And for that she could suffer the noise and discomfort of a few hours on a plane.
“How’s Kristi?” asked the woman who resembled Jennifer.
Leave my daughter alone, Bentz wanted to snarl as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. The Chevy’s engine whined as the car sped up the sharp hills rimming the ocean. “I don’t think you should bring her up.”
“I miss her so-”
“Bull-fucking-shit!” he growled. His voice was low. A warning. “Don’t go there. Got it? Do not go there. As if you’re her long-lost mother.” He was beyond disgusted. “Just leave my daughter out of this, you goddamned imposter! Now, tell me why the hell you’ve been ‘haunting’ me; what’s the point? Who are you and what do you want?”
She wasn’t rattled in the least, no sweat on her forehead, no death grip on the arm rest. One side of her mouth lifted in that damnable Jennifer way and she cooed, “Oh, RJ, get over yourself.”
He was raging inside, his blood boiling. This fraud had promised him answers, and he was through waiting. “We’re done,” he said with a finality that must have finally gotten to her. “Hear me. This is over. Now.”
“Okay, okay…I get it. You want answers. Just…just pull over up here. There’s a place where you and I went down to the beach, up ahead at Devil’s Caldron. Remember.”
Jesus, God, how did she know that? He remembered the time, on their way to Point Fermin. Jennifer had teased him by touching him in the car. Hot and bothered, he’d pulled over.
Now this woman was sending him a coy look, as if she knew what he was thinking. Dear God, she was so damned much like Jennifer it chilled him to the marrow of his bones.