Chapter 27 - Why Did I Have to Open My Big Mouth?

Lee's renewed search of the apartment didn't turn up a phone book. His search of Mel's car fared better. He headed back inside the apartment to call Saul & Roger.

"I found a phone book in her glove compartment, but it looks kind of old and full of scratch outs. I don't see any Ollies or Olivers in it."

"Bring it back," Saul said. "We'll just have to try them one by one and see what shakes out. I'm also getting phone records for Roger's apartment and Melanie's old place."

Lee groaned audibly at the prospect of going through those records looking for a needle in a haystack.

"If you want to avoid the paperwork a while longer, you can follow up on possible lead to the van. It's a long shot, but it's the first partial match to come in."

"Sure, anything to avoid the drudgery."

"It's a house - more like a cabin - in Palomar Mountain. Owner of record is a corporation, so we're guessing it's a rental. We probably won't be able to track down tenant info until tomorrow. It's your call to go or wait."

"I'll go. Give me the address and let me talk to Roger a minute."

"I got loads of maps in my car, buddy. Enjoy the drive. It should be beautiful, although I'd get out of the hills before dark if I were you."

"Dangerous area?"

"To drive in the dark, yes. One of the curviest stretches around."

"If that's the case, I'm taking Mel's car."

"Fair enough."

"You got a weapon in your place?"

"Yes, several. Safe is in the bedroom closet. Take your pick."

"Combination?"

"Are you too rusty to crack it?"

"I thought you suggested I get home by dark?"

"12-16-"

"75," Lee finished. "O.N.I. graduation."

"You're not so rusty after all. Enjoy the drive."

Lee headed out to the garage. He'd chosen the Sig Sauer P226 from Roger's safe, the O.N.I. training model. Lee grabbed its holster too, along with a windbreaker from Roger's closet to conceal the gun. In the garage, Lee hopped into Mel's cute convertible which he'd backed into the spot the prior day. As he moved forward, a thumping noise from the rear passenger side led him to brake suddenly. He hopped out and walked around. A flat. "Damn." Lee pulled the car back into its space. He checked the spare and was dismayed to find it too low on air to use. With a look of deep disappointment, Lee headed for Roger's brown sedan.

At least Roger's car was neat as a pin inside, a trait not shared by Mel's car. Lee flipped the radio on, not surprised to find news as the preset. He switched the radio to beachy music. He needed to lighten up his darkening mood. The happy music channel lost range as he headed up Palomar Mountain. Lee regretted not having taken the Cobra or fixed Mel's flat. The terrain yelled for a stick shift and the glorious weather deserved a convertible, and a tape deck would have been nice too. Roger's stripped down sedan was simply a drag to drive on those wonderful curves. Little did Lee know.

Just five miles out from his destination, on the descent, Lee noticed that the brakes seemed very soft and low to the floor. Lee downshifted the transmission to D2 to slow the engine and remove some strain from the brakes. The problem continued and Lee downshifted to D1, hoping to reduce his speed to a crawl. Gravity took its toll, however, and Lee had to use the brakes some, except the brake pedal now went to the floor. The brakes were gone. Lee looked at the dramatic curve ahead. Lee pumped the brakes to no avail. Lee slowly pushed the emergency brake pedal down. The rear wheels ratcheted sideways. Lee pulled the handle to release it, which dragged the car the opposite way. The guardrail was perilously close on the passenger side, but the turn was too steep to pull parallel to it and use it to help stop the car. Lee steered the sedan to keep it on the roadway, chancing driving too fast in the middle of the little used road instead of going over a cliff.

A few seconds later, Lee tried the emergency brake again. He pushed the pedal forward as slowly as possible while compensating for the directional shift that he expected. He ended up swerving onto the wrong side of the road, a better result than going through the guardrail to the canyon bottom. Unfortunately, the next turn was a duplicate of the two prior ones, steep and extreme. The car continued to pick up speed. Lee doubted he could stop the car with the emergency brake on this grade. He also didn't know how long it would be until the grade lessened or whether he could continue to maintain control of the car with the emergency brake until it did.

Lee had only a second or two to decide. He released his seat belt, opened his door, and slowed the car as much as he could by slowly pushing in the emergency brake. As the car began to fishtail, he bailed out into the mountain side. His momentum took him into a gravel and dirt ditch next to the mountain, where he continued to tumble downhill for nearly twenty feet. Lee barely registered the explosion that followed.

Lee didn't move for a minute. He opted first to take stock of what might be hurt while the adrenaline was still pumping. The arms of the borrowed windbreaker were in near shreds. To Lee's amazement, however, his face and head seemed fine. He'd managed to protect them at the cost of his arms. Rivulets of blood ran down the shredded sleeves. Lee began to pull out small pieces of imbedded gravel from his forearms. He hoped he wouldn't need stitches.

Lee slowly pulled the jacket off. His upper body was sore and stiff, but everything worked. Lee continued pulling out pieces of gravel and dirt, avoiding what he knew he had to do next: seeing if he could stand up. His jeans had stayed mostly in tact, except for the knees. Lee pulled tiny bits of gravel out of that area. "Courage, man," Lee castigated himself bracing for the test. He leaned his back against the mountain side and pushed up. Lee took a shaky first step and then a second. The legs worked. The feet were fine. "Whew!" Lee reeled as he took a third step too quickly and became dizzy. He leaned his back up against the mountainside and caught his breath for a minute. He stayed there hoping someone might drive by. After ten minutes, Lee gave up and crossed to the far side of the road to descend. Down was the only direction that seemed possible just then.

Around the bend, Lee saw a gap in the guard rail. He tracked his eyes down the canyon where Roger's car had exploded in flames. He sat down on the rail for a minute regretting that he wouldn't be able to verify his suspicions about Roger's brakes. Mel wouldn't step foot inside Roger's car. Roger's brakes were bad, as Roger would find out when he returned from his honeymoon. Mel had a large insurance policy on Roger. Coincidence or attempted murder?

What a lousy attempt at murder, however. Roger would have handled the emergency much like Lee and could have survived just as well. Of course, Roger would have more likely been doing sixty on I-5 when it happened. Different techniques could be used, but danger to others would necessitate absorbing more danger to himself. The result could have been worse. Could have been better, too. Lee shook his head in confusion. It seemed such an amateurish way to try to kill someone. Not so real life. "Kind of movie like," Lee gasped aloud when he realized what he'd said.

Lee removed the gun from the holster and tossed the holster after the car. Who'd pick up an obviously toting hitchhiker? He wrapped the gun in the shredded jacket and waited. Fifteen minutes later, a pick up truck going in the direction Lee had been headed stopped.

"Happy to give you a ride, although medical care's the other way."

"I've got a friend a few miles from here if you could help me get closer."

"Sure, no problem. Just point the way."

"That's awfully kind of you, thanks."

"Yeah, well, we Navy boys always help each other, don't we?"

Lee's Annapolis ring had given it away. "We do."

"Course, I ain't no officer."

"Right now you are a godsend. Beats an officer any day of the week."

Charlie - also known as "Wobbles on account of my lousy sea legs" - Watson dropped Lee off half a mile from the property. "Sure I can't take you closer? Or do something else for you?"

"Matter of fact, when you get where you are going, call this man and let him know you rescued me and where. Tell him I'd appreciate a ride out in case my friend can't get me home tonight."

"Good as done. I'll call from the next pay phone."

Lee marveled at his good fortune in the midst of bad before he skulked towards the cabin in the woods. What had once been a cabin in the woods, Lee thought as he smelled the overwhelming scent of smoke. Gun in hand, Lee carefully poked around the charred remains of the cabin. The small structure had been swallowed quickly by flames. Lee poked around looking for any sign of life, knowing no one inside could survive it. He didn't find anyone.

Lee rested a few moments. He had no basis to connect this fire to Mel's death. It could be coincidence. With full breath back, Lee decided to poke around the surrounding woods a bit. When he found the burned out remains of the Ford van wedged between trees some fifty yards in the woods behind the house, he could no longer discount a connection. Close up to the vehicle, he could see that the gas tank had exploded. Wrapping his hand in the shredded jacket on the off chance fingerprints were obtainable, Lee opened the side door of the van. The seats were empty, but when he looked toward the back of the van, he saw it. The body. Whether the victim had been blonde and blue, Lee couldn't be certain. However, the charred remnants of a tripod and video recorder suggested he'd just found Ollie, or someone he was supposed to believe was Ollie.

Disgusted and defeated, Lee moved out to the road to await his ride. He started a small fire for visibility. Just after dark, Saul Jackson pulled up to him. Saul's gun was drawn, as was Lee's. They chuckled at each other. "Can't be too careful in these hills," Saul said.

"The guy who lived here sure wasn't. He's dead and there's not much left behind to tell a story."

"I'll get a forensics team out here first thing tomorrow, unless you think time is of the essence."

"I think someone already did their best to destroy evidence and is done. I'm surprised Roger didn't want to come along for the escape."

"I'd like to tell you that it was because he was devastated to hear about his car, but I don't think you'd buy it. There was an incident with Commander MacAdam. He stayed behind with her."

"Define incident."