Chapter Five

Life Choices

Logan took the screenshot from Beth and nodded with approval. "Nice," he said. "Very nice. Alex Sanders must have some of the best security cameras in the world to pull off this kind of resolution."

"Allison thinks so." Beth played with the buttons on a Rock Band guitar resting on the computer desk beside Logan. "She believed Sanders has people on site who probably designed and manufactured them."

"I should go back into the files Mick was able to download the first time he was there and check." Logan spun his seat around to face her. "Those designs are probably crazy."

Beth gave him a hard look. "Focus, Logan."

"Just joking." Logan chuckled as he placed the screenshot in a scanner and turned back to his keyboard. "Give me a second to get this scanned in. So, what went down with Madame Wen?"

Beth gave a brief detail of the meeting she had with the Chinatown vampire. "I basically got an extension. A small extension, but I'll take it. And I think I almost got recruited."

Logan stopped typing and glanced over his shoulder. "Recruited?"

"Well, not recruited. But she did say that I would make a nice vampire." Beth sat down beside Logan. "I guess I've been at this with Mick, Josef, and you guys for so long that your world really doesn't surprise me anymore."

He gave a sarcastic snort as he plugged a flash drive into a docking port and typed in a command. "Really? Hold my beer. A lot of vampires have travelled far and wide for Madame Wen's cuisine."

Beth gave him a perplexed look. "What? Wait. I thought you don't eat food."

"No, but we do drain the blood from living things, or drink it like how Mick and a bunch of us do." Logan sat back in his chair with a reminiscent look on his face. "But Madame Wen? She has a way of adding flavor without going through all that."

Beth shook her head, clearly confused. "But … how?"

"Well, remember when you brought your boss's cat here after she was killed? It usually starts like that."

It took several seconds for Beth to realize what he was alluding to. Her mouth gaped open. "Gross, Logan! Cat cuisine?! Are you serious?! And at a Chinese restaurant! Oh my God!

Logan maintained a blank expression for as long as he could before bursting in laughter. "If you can see your face now," he said, pulling the flash drive out and handing it to her.

"Got the picture scanned in, so maybe you can get your cop buddies to use their systems to do some facial rec. I'll do what I can but since I hacked those street lights snatching Emma Monaghan, I'll be covering my tracks more than actually doing any kind of work."

Beth nodded and slipped the drive into her pocket just as her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and thumbed the screen on. "Ugh. My assistant just texted me about our staff meeting tomorrow morning. I have to get home and get my notes together."

Logan watched her move to the stairs. When he felt she was almost to the top, he yelled, "Can you bring me some takeout tomorrow?"

"Shut up!"

#

Josef fumed in the back of his limousine. He looked out the window at the building he was parked in front of several times, shaking his head. Adrian sat beside him, regarding his superior carefully.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

Josef snapped his head around to glare at him. "No, Adrian, I am not alright. I am over four hundred years old. I have dined with congressmen, presidents, prime ministers, ayatollahs. I lost count of how many bodies I threw in the Potomac after Lincoln's assassination. My life is known for refinery."

He opened the door and stepped outside. Adrian exited the other side and quickly circled around to stand beside his employer as Josef held his hands up in exasperation.

"Why in everything that is holy would I be caught dead in there?"

At least a hundred motorcycles of various models were parked in front of a two-story bar. Dozens of men and women, most wearing leather vests signifying memberships to different clubs milled about outside, drinking and having boisterous conversations in groups Women in bikinis stood behind ice tubs selling beer and other beverages. Floodlights staged on top of the building illuminated a twenty-foot long stage where a five piece band belted out a cover of a rock ballad.

Josef took in the scene in disgust. Then he looked down at his attire. "At least I went on and changed into some jeans. Wait here for me, Adrian. If I'm not back in twenty minutes, call the Cleaner and her crew. Place might need some exterminating."

"Gladly, sir."

Josef way his way through the throng to the opened double doors of the bar. Inside, more bar patrons sat eating and drinking, or conversing with the bartender, a blonde female wearing a black tank top two sizes too small in the right areas.

He glanced around the small bar until he finally saw who it was he was looking for. He walked over the table and grinned. "When you said to meet you here, I prayed that you were joking. I should have known better."

Sarah Whitley looked up and smiled from behind her beer bottle. "I seemed to have remembered you aren't fond of places like this. Figured I'd take you out of your comfort zone. Have a seat."

Josef slid onto the barstool on the opposite side of the table, waving away a waitress who began to make her way over. "Sarah, you are rich. You are so rich, it's sickening. Why would you come to a biker bar?"

Sarah leaned over the table. "You see that couple over by the bar? The two with the bandanas on their heads."

Josef glanced over his shoulder at the middle age man and woman sitting side by side near the bar corner. "Last night, they told me about how their son was killed in New York on 9/11 at the World Trade Center. He left behind his wife and son who was barely a year old. They're leaving tomorrow to go to New York and watch him graduate from high school. He's going to join the Army and be a Ranger like his father."

She pointed at a clean shaven man sitting by himself in a corner of the bar. "That guy started here years ago as a cook. Business tripled when they added on the bike shop. He saved enough money and bought into both the bar and the shop. He now has five bars across California."

Sarah's gaze bore deep into Josef's eyes. "Each person has a different story. Some good, some bad. Some will make you laugh until you are all over the floor while others will make you want to cry."

She finished her beer and held it up for the waitress to bring another. "I come here for the stories, Josef. It's better than what your internet, television news channels, or newspapers have to offer."

Josef waited until the waitress replaced the beer. "I'm sorry. It's just that … you just bought a winery. Have you even sample some of the stock?"

"I haven't had a chance. I've been so busy. I was suppose to go tomorrow but I was invited to some sort of ball."

"The California Correspondents' Ball. I scored an invite as well."

Sarah smiled. "I'm heading out the day after tomorrow for a few days. Ceremonial signing of the paperwork, all that. Simone is coming with me. I hope you don't mind."

Josef grinned. "As it's Whitley Development business, I hope she's sending you the bill. Of course I don't mind … on one condition."

"What is it?"

"That you allow me to escort you."

Sarah briefly considered the request. Finally she said, "That's it? Just escort me? No strings attached?"

He shrugged. "Well, maybe one."

#

Coraline followed two men down into the basement of a fish market several blocks from her flat. One of the men knocked on a closed door in a rhythmic pattern. The door opened three seconds later. She stepped inside confidently, smiling at the woman as she walked past and stopped in front of a desk almost completely covered with currency from numerous parts of the world.

Behind the desk, a young man wearing a visor turned backwards sat in a high back leather chair. He gestured to Coraline and shot up to his feet.

"I have to admit to you right now, this isn't my best work. But when you give me three hours to get everything prepared, there is bound to be a slip up somewhere." The man hastily tossed several documents in a wrinkled brown envelope and held it out to Coraline.

"It's important that the passport passes scrutiny, Tucker." She took the envelope and peered inside while her hand reached into her jacket for a zipped deposit bag. Satisfied with the envelope's contents, she tossed the bag to Tucker.

"Eighty is in that bag. I hope the additional twenty I put in will ease my concerns?"

Tucker unzipped the bag and quickly glanced inside. He zipped it shut and tossed it to the woman who stood beside a filing cabinet. "Yeah. It should do its job. Just don't make a sudden stop anywhere other than where you intend to go. Speaking of which, where are you going?"

Coraline gave a tight smile. "I'm also paying for your silence, Tucker. So let's stop with the questions, shall we?"

A minute later, she stood outside the fish market and hailed a taxi. One appeared and pulled up beside her within seconds. She slid into the backseat and tapped her hand on the divider.

"de Gaulle Airport."

#

Doctor Ellis opened the door and entered his makeshift lab, expecting to see the vampire he treated torn to pieces by the formidable Malcolm Rehnquist. The broken chair he stepped over was a telltale sign.

So it shocked him to see Malcolm leaning against the far wall while St. John sat in the chair. His restraints were back around his wrists and ankles, but the light snoring gave him the appearance of being asleep instead of tortured.

He sat his bag beside a computer tablet on a small table by the door. "I trust last night was uneventful?"

Malcolm pushed himself off the wall and picked up his jacket from the floor. He made his way over to the table and retrieved the tablet, pausing only to smile at Ellis.

"I think informative is the correct word."

#

Beth looked up from her laptop. "You have got to be kidding me."

Faith shook her head in the negative. "You have been cordially invited to the Sixteenth Annual California Correspondents' Ball. Tonight, eight o'clock at the Sarah Whitley Memorial Arena. Black tie and evening dress preferred."

"Faith, this email is almost two weeks old." She turned her laptop around so her assistant editor could see the screen. "And you forwarded this to me this morning."

"Yeah, well I forgot about it. I was planning to go, but then I remembered that's why I have a boss for these kinds of things."

Beth shook her head. "Faith, I wish you could have let me know about this a while back. I have a lot on my plate right now."

"I'm sorry. Everyone from the partners to our vendors are still catching up with the changeover, so that's why it was sent to me instead of you." Faith sighed. "You're right. I should have gave you some notice. I'll bite the bullet for you and go. Besides, I think it's open bar."

Beth chuckled in spite of herself. "No. I appreciate the offer, but I'm in charge of BuzzWire now and for me to make this a reputable newsworthy offering, I have to get out there. "

Faith smiled. "Look at it this way: you can network tonight. Get out there, hand out your business cards and you're out of there in thirty minutes to a hour. And … it's open bar."

#

The History Cigar Bar's waiter smiled as he set the shot of whiskey on the table beside Alexandra Sanders. "You're up here early. Meetings this afternoon, or you're done for the day?"

Sanders shrugged as she held up the glass and drained its contents in one gulp. "I don't know, Oscar. I'm trying to make my mind up. While I do that, can I get a glass of my private bottle? And a cigar?"

"Right away." Oscar swept up the empty shot glass and stepped away as Sanders' phone vibrated on the armrest beside her hand. She pressed the button to accept the call. "What's up, Hayley?"

Hayley Simms, her senior investigator, sounded excited on the other end, a rarity for her. "Seems like either L.A.P.D. is in on the Malcolm Rehnquist sweepstakes, or Beth Turner has friends in high places."

"I'm betting the latter."

"Well, either way, someone got a birthday present over there and are playing with it. They ran the screenshot through their facial recognition algorithm and got a hit. Rehnquist snuck into town about three hours ago."

Sanders sat up straight in her chair. "Thank you for talking me into letting you hack the police. Do you have a general idea from what direction?"

"Running through a list of possibles and bouncing them off of any connections with St. John and the L.A.P.D. right now."

"Have a tactical team standing by. Ten, twelve should be fine. I'll be there in about twenty minutes." She disconnected the call and set her phone aside as Oscar came back with the wine and cigar balanced on a tray.

"Looks like my afternoon may be tied up after all," she said in an apologetic tone, sliding a fifty-dollar bill on the tray. Picking up the wine glass, she took a sip and set it back down before reaching for her phone and handbag.

Oscar gave her a questioning look. "Your cigar?"

Sanders gave it a cursory glance before heading for the exit.

"Keep it. Those things will kill you."

#

Allison gazed at her computer screen, wondering when 5pm was going to hit the clock. Hayley had announced earlier that she had nothing for her or the rest of the team, so they were left to their own devices for the afternoon, which was the norm if Alexandra Sanders was going to be off site for the day. Some had already left, while others were downstairs in the armory. Being the most junior member of the investigation team, she did not feel it would be proper to depart on her own without specific permission, despite the lack of supervision.

Hayley, her superior, remained in her office after she made her announcement for about an hour before suddenly rushing out with her phone to ear towards the cyber tech lab. Allison and Reneé nearly had to jump out of her way to avoid a collision.

Allison remained at her desk for another hour, fighting the urge to check her Facebook page when her desk phone rang. She saw Simms' name on the screen and picked up the receiver. "Lindsey."

"Allison, can you come to my office, please?"

"OTW." She hung up and made her way to Hayley's office. The door was a quarter of the way open and she heard Hayley said, "St. John and the L.A.P.D. right now."

Allison pushed the door open the rest of the way. Hayley stood behind her desk with her cellphone in hand, nodding at her to enter. She dropped the phone in her hand and smiled. "Got a job for you. Since you're pretty much the only one on my team around within shouting distance."

"Happy to serve. What's up?"

Hayley bent down to key some instructions on her laptop. "I'm heading out with the tac team and the boss in a little while. We got a lead on this Malcolm Rehnquist character, but we need to find out where he's been hiding out. Chances are we find that -"

"And we find Mick St. John," finished Allison. "How can I help?"

"Stay on top of the cyber tech gang. They're correlating some leads right now, but Alex and I are leaving and she wants Rehnquist's head first. I can't be in two places at once, though I have tried."

Allison grinned.

"We have access to case files within the L.A.P.D. See if you can find a thread that will help us find St. John. A common thread. You got that?"

Hayley reached into her desk drawer and pulled out two pistols: a silver-plated .22 with silencer, and a military-styled 9mm. She slid the 9mm in her pants at the small of her back and dropped the .22 into her right boot, sliding her jeans leg over it.

"Anything you find, call me ASAP. Understood?"

Allison nodded as Hayley scooped up her jacket and exited her office. Allison followed suit, noting the executive offices were darkened and closed for the day. Reneé stepped out of the conference room and turned the lights off behind her. She gave Allison a small wave before heading up front.

"Must be closing time," she said, sparing a glance at the clock on the wall.

Five o'clock.

Damn.

#

Beth stepped through the lobby doors into the concourse area of the arena, careful that the train on her black sequined gown did not catch on the door. She smiled and waved at several rival reporters standing to the side conversing amongst themselves, but moved on to the five-piece jazz ensemble playing on a circular stage in the center.

She started to look for an empty table just as a familiar face caught her eye. She stood alone at a corner of the long rollaway bar, sipping on a martini as Beth approached. "Harper. I'm surprised you're here."

The woman smiled, swinging her dark brown hair over one sequined shoulder. "Turner. The feeling is mutual. I thought you would be out on the streets tracking down St. John down yourself by now."

"We have some leads we're tracking now, and the FBI and the police are working on finding Rehnquist." Beth signaled for a bartender and pointed at Harper's drink. "And I found a way to buy some time."

"I heard. You got in touch with Madame Wen. I swear that woman can find a Playstation that's at least two generations ahead of the one that's currently on the market." She raised her glass in a toast. "I don't know what you said, but she did buy you some time. I wouldn't waste it, though."

Beth picked up her drink and turned to Harper. "You heard anything?"

"Only that Magnus contacted the cleaners in Detroit. They're a bit on the rough side compared to the ones here. I really don't want to deal with them. By the way. Is the one who dresses like Catwoman still around? I heard she'd make a straight woman go home and evaluate her life choices."

Beth sighed and started to reply but noted Josef entering the concourse, now a little more crowded since her arrival. "Excuse me. The subject of the potential beheading is here."

Harper whistled. "His neck is on the line, and he strolls in like there are no worries. Like he doesn't have a care in the world."

That's Josef Kostan for you, thought Beth as she made her way through the crowd to the couple. Josef turned at her approach and smiled. "Beth. I didn't expect you to be here. You look stunning."

"Josef," she said flatly. "I didn't go to Madame Wen to buy you a vacation."

"I know, I know. Logan's been keeping me updated. I've received a notice that no retaliation will come to me as long as suitable gains are made into finding Mick. We've made those gains." He glanced over his shoulder. "We can talk about everything a little later."

Sarah stepped in front of Beth just as she was about to give a stinging reply. "Beth! What a lovely dress! Where is the bar?"

#

Allison poured herself another cup of coffee and made her way back to her seat at the conference table. Her laptop and a computer tablet rested in her spot as she sat down. "Rehnquist was coming from the northeast when facial rec picked him up. Hook me up, guys."

To her left, security specialist Nate Cullen scrolled down a page in a folder with one finger. A twenty-year veteran of the police, Hayley once called him her "angel on the shoulder when Satan wants to do something bad." He looked over to her. "I don't know, but I might have something. Victorville."

Two seats down to Allison's right, cyber analyst Callie Stone looked up from a map of Los Angeles. "Victorville? I've seen several references about that location in the L.A.P.D. files. What do you have?"

"Case number 47239F, the people vs. Amir Fayed." Cullen slid the folder over to Allison. "I remember this guy. He had one of his own killed and then tried to kill the guy's girlfriend. Details of the case were sealed after that, but Josh Lindsey was the lead prosecutor."

Allison hurriedly scanned the documents in the folder, ignoring the fact that some of the handwriting belonged to her late brother. She found the data file corresponding with the folder and opened it on her laptop. "Bam. Here it is. According to this, Josh had a federal witness in protective custody who initially ran because Fayed had put a hit out on her. Somehow they found where she was hidden and killed the two cops on duty who were the protection detail, but she managed to escape. My brother hired a private investigator to find her and bring her back to Los Angeles because there was a mole leaking information out to the killer. He found out the witness bought a bus ticket to Victorville. The witness was found, but never made it to the city."

Callie slid over to look at the opened folder. "What are those letters there?" She pointed at two sets of initials written below the main body of text.

Allison glanced over at where she indicated and knew immediately what they were. "Those are the initials of the only other people my brother trusted with this case. One is missing. But Beth was there. Wherever there is, she was there."

Nate and Callie stared at her as she pulled her phone out. "What are you talking about?" asked Nate.

Allison dialed Beth's number. "Nate, get a vehicle and a tactical package ready for me. I have to call her and find out what she knows."

#

"I swear to you, Beth. I had no idea Josef was bidding on the same property. My company wanted to start a foothold in California for years. Since I was here, I figured it was the perfect opportunity."

Sarah nodded her thanks to the bartender and picked up her beer bottle before turning to Beth. "I was never a beer drinker back … in New York. I guess beer is a lot better … here."

Beth grinned as she felt her phone vibrate in her clutch. She opened it and saw Allison's name on the caller ID. "Excuse me. I have to take this call from a friend of mine."

Sarah nodded and watched Beth step outside the arena. She glanced over and saw Josef in conversation with a man he had introduced earlier as the president of Hurst College. Josef looked over and smiled. She started to make her way to him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Excuse me, Miss Whitley." An arena usher gave her an apologetic look. "A gentleman from the law firm representing your interests is waiting for you. He said he has some documents for you to sign." He indicated the club level VIP boxes over her shoulder. "He came through the wrong door at the parking level, so security held him up."

"Then I'll go see him." She spared Josef one final glance. "Lead the way."

Sarah followed the usher around the corner to an elevator that stopped on the first level. They both stepped off and walked past several closed kiosks and food courts until the usher stopped at a closed door. "There's a guard across from here waiting. When you're done, you can make your way back to the elevator, and she'll make sure that he exits the arena."

The usher opened the door and Sarah stepped into the dimly lit corridor into the hosting area. The lighting from the arena illuminated the box seating area below and served to be enough light for her to quickly look around the area where she stood.

"I swear, Miss Whitley. You have definitely made a name for yourself in this city."

The familiar, deep voice made her heart skip a beat. Her eyes darted around the box in search for the voice's owner to no avail. She steadied herself and slowly took a step closer to the railing.

The twenty seats below were empty, saved one. Its occupant slowly rose from his seat and turned to face her, buttoning his jacket. "It's good to see you again, Sarah," said Malcolm Rehnquist.

Sarah forced herself not to run out of the box, knowing Malcolm could easily catch her even before she could make it to the exit. She smiled nervously. "You shouldn't be here."

He glanced over his shoulder briefly at the arena and the concourse at the far end before turning back to Sarah with a surprised look on his face. "Oh! You think I'm here … oh no! I'm sorry, Sarah! It was never my intention to scare you! I was actually here to see someone else, but I noticed you downstairs and just had to see you."

He quickly climbed the steps and grabbed Sarah's hand before she could even consider stepping back. "You look ravishing. Mortality certainly suits you," he whispered, his eyes locked onto hers as he pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it.

"Uh, th- thank you," she stammered, pulling her hand away in an non offensive manner. "I appreciate it."

Malcolm straightened and gestured at the arena. "The California Correspondents' Ball. A who's who of all the television, print, and internet information sources in California today."

He turned back to Sarah. "You're probably right. I really shouldn't be here," he said, chuckling softly.

Sarah said nothing as he slowly circled her. "I just wanted to let you know that Mick and I are growing to be the best of friends. He has told me so much over the past three weeks about his life."

"Well, from my understanding, there isn't a whole lot to go on that you shouldn't already know." She bravely looked up into his face. "He married someone in his family, she turned him, he tried to kill her years later."

"Oh, there's so much more, my dear. Believe me, there's so much more." He stepped back to lean against the counter and crossed his hands in front of him. "But that's between me and him. Actually, I was hoping you could pass a message on for me to Magnus McClane for me."

Malcolm's mention of the Archivist's name startled Sarah. "Why?"

"Because I know that he is calling for Josef Kostan's head. Totally unnecessary. I orchestrated everything: your miraculous resurrection, Kostan's betrayal of St. John, your arrival here in Los Angeles. Everything. Certainly nothing that warrants Kostan's ashes, so I thought I would do this to save everyone some trouble."

He pulled a mircoSD card from his pocket as he walked back over to her. "I recorded all of my activities in a video which the Archivist's people can access and play at their leisure. It details everything, omitting your name, of course. I'm sure this should completely exonerate Kostan."

With some hesitation, Sarah took the small card. She eyed it for a few seconds in confusion, causing Malcolm to laugh. "I keep forgetting that you and technology are still becoming friends. Don't worry about it. Magnus McClane will take care of everything."

His gaze was diverted back down to the arena. "Well well, what do we have here?"

Sarah turned to look down at the concourse. The jazz band had stopped playing as nearly a dozen men and women dressed in military tactical gear burst in, weapons at the ready. A tall woman with long, red hair and brandishing a pistol followed close behind. "What's going on?"

She received no answer. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that Malcolm was gone. Without giving it a second thought, Sarah bolted for the door as fast as her high heels could take her. Rushing past the startled guard who stood watch several feet away, she fled to the open elevator and pressed the DOWN button. Seconds later, she exited and quickly made her way over to where Josef was standing with the college president.

"Josef, what's going on?"

Josef started to reply but caught his breath. His eyes narrowed as his nostrils suddenly flared in her direction for a second. He started to reach for her but caught himself at the last second. "Who were you speaking to?" he whispered.

Before she could answer, the redhead female walked over, gracing Josef with a thin smile. "Josef Kostan. Funny. You don't strike me as a reporter."

Josef returned a somewhat forced smile. "You know me. I am news." He gestured to Sarah. "Sarah, let me introduce you to Alexandra Sanders, president and founder of Sanders Securities, one of the finest private and corporate security firm's in California."

Sanders slid her pistol in a holster at the small of her back. "You flatter me. I'm glad you're here. I've been wanting to know how did you pull your return from the dead act last year, but I'm looking for someone. Let me show you something."

She whistled, and one of her associates stepped over with a small hand tablet. She held it out for both Josef and Sarah to see. "We got word that this guy was spotted entering Hurst's grounds an hour ago. Have either of you seen him?"

Both peered at an image of Malcolm on the screen. Josef glanced at Sarah for a second before shaking his head. "Who is he?"

"Someone who pissed a lot of people off in the city, myself included." Sanders handed the tablet back. "I have the whole city wired. He won't be able to go far."

A new voice answered. "I seen him a few minutes, Officer." Harper Ryan pointed to the arena ground equipment entrance. "He was outside smoking by a black Bentley sedan in staff parking."

Sanders nodding, snapping her fingers. Her armed associates quickly followed her down the corridor into the bowels of the arena. Josef watched them until they disappeared around a corner before snapping back to Sarah.

"He was here, wasn't he? Why were you with him?"

"Oh calm down, Kostan. She had no more idea that Rehnquist would be here than you or I did." Harper finished her drink and rose from the nearby table where she sat. "And I don't think she's the reason."

Josef's expression hardened. "Maybe it would be best if you told me who you are, Miss … "

"Oh, sorry. I'm Ryan. Harper Ryan. Former reporter for L.A. Story."

She leaned in close so only Josef and Sarah could hear. "And I'm also associated with Magnus McClane, the Archivist."

At that, Josef nearly bared his fangs. Harper held her hands up in defense. "Calm down, calm down! I'm not here for you! Journalism is my first love, Mr. Kostan. That's my first, my only reason for being here."

She looked around the concourse at the crowd, now slowly dispersing. "But there was one reason for him to be here. The question is where is she."

#

The SUV proceeded down the highway fifteen miles over the speed limit. Nate navigated the vehicle while Caddie worked on her laptop from the passenger seat.

In the backseat, Allison watched Beth pull jeans on underneath her gown. "Remind me to pack another go-go bag when we get back. I figured you shouldn't have any problems fitting into my clothes."

"Yeah, thanks for the spare set. Unzip me?" Beth turned to face the door for Allison to reach over and pull the zipper down enough for her to begin shrugging out of the gown.

Allison sat back into her seat. "You know, we could have done this without you. Nate knows California like the back of his hand. We could have found this hotel with no problem."

Beth reached for a t-shirt and slipped it on. "No way. If Mick is out there, I need to be there. He … he might need me."

Allison's phone buzzed for attention. She picked it up and connected the call. "Lindsey."

"This is Simms. We're at Hurst College searching for Rehnquist. You found anything?"

"I have a lead. It may be nothing, but Nat, Caddie, and I are on the way to Victorville. Somewhere out there is a connection between St. John and a case he worked for my brother when he was the A.D.A. Beth Turner has been out there before, so she's with us as well."

There was a momentary pause before Hayley responded. "Probably not a good idea taking her along, but if she knows where to go, then follow it through. Keep me posted."

Allison ended the call and watched as Beth sent a text. "Ordering a pizza?"

Beth shook her head.

"Backup."