Wishbones (36 page)

Although I agreed with her, I had that unsettled sense that I was going to regret my decision.

With Sweetie and Chablis standing in the glass doorway watching us go, Tinkie and I headed back down to the movie set. We hadn't slept in hours and hours, but adrenaline had kicked in and we were wired.

"I hate this road," Tinkie said. She'd allowed me to drive only because she had a headache. I kept my mouth shut and my attention on the asphalt. I drove considerably slower than Tinkie, but going downhill, it was hard not to pick up a lot of speed. The Caddy was a larger car than I normally drove, and I was still adjusting when we came to a hairpin curve.

I stomped the brake and my foot went all the way to the floorboard.

"Pump it," Tinkie said. "I thought the brakes felt a little soft."

I pumped as hard as I could while still keeping the car on the road. As we nosed downhill, we picked up more speed.

"The brakes are gone." I spoke quietly. It felt as if my fingers had broken around the steering wheel. My grasp was so tight that I couldn't let go.

Sawing the wheel back and forth, I did everything I could to reduce our forward momentum. There was a dangerous curve approaching, and at the speed we were traveling, close to fifty miles an hour, we'd never make it. It was a hard turn to make at fifteen.

"Pump the brakes again," Tinkie said. She pulled out her cell phone and placed a 911 call for an ambulance.

"Don't you think that's a little premature?" I asked as I barely made a curve.

"We're going to crash. It's just a matter of how bad it's going to be. I want medical attention as soon as possible. Oscar will never forgive me if I die."

I flashed her a smile to show I appreciated her spirit and her humor.

I saw the caution sign for the turn that was almost 180 degrees. A yellow light blinked a warning. It was less than two thousand feet ahead. On one side was solid rock and the other was a sheer drop.

I pumped the brakes like one of the Riverdance performers. When there was no response, I did the only thing I could. I turned the wheel and rammed into the side of the mountain.

We slammed into solid rock. I heard the squeal of tires sliding on asphalt and the rattle of stones raining down on the top of the car. The air bags inflated with such a rush that it pushed the oxygen out of my lungs with terrific force. I was thrown forward and then back and then forward again until I felt as if I'd been shaken by a giant hand.

When I looked over at Tinkie, my heart almost stopped. Her face was turned toward me, her eyes closed, and a trickle of blood leaked from her mouth.

"Tinkie." I struggled to get away from the air bag and my seat belt. Steam was coming from the car, and I could smell gasoline. It could go up in flames at any time.

There wasn't another vehicle in sight, and in the darkness, I was afraid anyone coming up on the curve might not see the wreck until it was too late. But there was nothing I could do about that. My concern was Tinkie.

I managed to force my door open and hurry around to her side of the car. "Tinkie!" I choked back the tears. "Tinkie, come on."

Her door was jammed, but I pulled and tugged until I got it open. She was so small that the air bag had struck her full in the face rather than the chest as it had me. But the good news was that I could easily pull her out of the car once I'd undone her seat belt.

"Tinkie," I whispered urgently. "Wake up."

She had to wake up. This whole movie adventure had been a nightmare from the get-go. Tinkie had been hurt numerous times. Normally I was the one who was injured, and that was far easier to take than seeing her so lifeless.

I felt for a pulse and found one, and it seemed strong and steady. My worst fears began to dissipate, and I lifted her into my arms and walked across the road, away from the car, to a small gravel area by the shoulder.

I gently eased her down onto the ground. For such a petite person, she was rather heavy. I looked over at the car, and in the darkness I could see it was a total loss. The front was accordioned almost to the driver's seat.

"Tinkie, that was a close one." It made me feel better to talk to her, even if she was unconscious.

"Could you carry me to another place? These rocks are uncomfortable."

"Tinkie!" I knelt down beside her and helped her into a sitting position. "I thought you were knocked out."

"I was, for a bit. I came to while you were carrying me. I'm glad I didn't have to try to lift you."

"Good point." I sat down beside her so we could lean against each other. "I'd be willing to bet ten thousand dollars
that someone damaged the brake line on the car. Probably a small puncture so the brake fluid leaked out slowly."

Tinkie was feeling her face to see how much damage had been inflicted. She ignored my bet, which told me she agreed with my deductions.

"You don't think Graf has been abducted, do you? You think he's involved." I spoke softly.

She hesitated. "I think he could be. He left you that message luring you up to the house when he wasn't there. Sarah Booth, he wasn't at the house and he hasn't been. That was a setup. And we know there were at least two people involved in all of this."

She was right. I couldn't argue it if I wanted to, but I also couldn't believe Graf would do such a thing. "But why, Tinkie? Why would Graf do it?"

"I can think of a few reasons, but so can you if you put your mind to it."

Greed, sex, revenge, lust, envy--always the same basic motivators when it came to murder. None of them looked good on the man I'd grown to care about. And none of them truly fit him, either.

We heard the sound of a siren in the distance. Sound travels a long way in the clear mountain air, so we knew we still had a bit to wait. "You're overlooking the possibility that Graf might be another victim," I said.

"No, I'm not, Sarah Booth. I just don't want to think what may have happened to him if Jovan got to him first."

Tinkie's dark words hung in the sky as the red lights of the ambulance strobed around the hairpin curve that could have killed us.

To my utter amazement, Sheriff King showed up as the paramedics were giving us both a nearly clean bill of health. While we were banged and bruised, we weren't seriously injured. King had heard the call and come to check on us. I was even more stunned when he sent a deputy to sit with Sweetie and Chablis because Tinkie refused to do anything until we knew the dogs were safe.

The tow truck pulled the totaled Cadillac away, and King gave Tinkie and me a ride down the mountain to the movie lot. He was quiet, but the look on his face made me anxious. I was used to snappish, not pensive. The fact that he was nice scared me.

As we rode to the studio, dawn brightened the sky. Funny, but the weather in California was seasonless--paradise by anyone's measure--but I found it annoying. The last winter at Dahlia House had been lonely and on some mornings bitterly cold. The summers were often unbearable. But weather marked the passage of time in a rhythm that was familiar.

We were almost to the studio when King began to talk. "I have some information on the situation," he said. "I've got men at the studio, and I just talked with one of my captains. We believe Jovan is holed up on a sound stage with hostages."

"Hostages? Plural?" My voice broke.

He cast me a quick glance. "Two or more. We can't be sure. We've got surveillance equipment trained on the building, but the visibility isn't great."

"Are the hostages alive?"

He rubbed his chin. "As far as we can tell. But I'm not going to kid you, this is a bad situation."

"Has anyone tried to talk to her?" Tinkie asked.

"A hostage negotiator called and she said if we called again, she'd kill the people she's holding. And I believe she will. She's coming unraveled fast."

As I watched the sun come up on one of the most beautiful places I'd ever been, I was paralyzed by dread. The car seemed to crawl forward, and while Tinkie asked questions, I couldn't make out any of the words.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, and I squeezed her fingers to let her know I appreciated all she was doing. Graf was okay. I had to believe that. Somehow he'd gotten caught up in this mess, but there was no reason for Jovan to kill him.

Except that she'd killed Suzy Dutton and almost killed Estelle, not to mention taking a swipe at me and Tinkie. Homicidal maniacs didn't need a reason.

As we turned into the studio lot, I saw the patrol cars, a line of eight, waiting for the sheriff. Snipers with high-powered rifles stood talking beside the cars. This was serious business, and while Grady King was calm, he was prepared for anything.

"Graf is okay, Sarah Booth." Tinkie spoke with the confidence of a friend. "Feel it? He's fine. Don't worry."

"Sure," I said, though I felt only the sensation of dropping into a void.

King stopped and we got out. He talked with several of the SWAT team members, then came back to us.

"It's like this. We can see one man we believe to be Marquez tied in a chair. There's no sign of the second man. We
can see Jovan pacing back and forth, talking to the man in the chair. We've used the bullhorn to alert her that we're law enforcement and that she should surrender. She's not inclined to listen."

"What's your plan?" I asked.

"We can't get a clear shot on her. We need someone to try to talk to her. She won't answer her cell phone."

"I'll go talk to her," I said. I had to get to Graf and make sure he was alive.

King assessed me. "You'd risk your life?"

"Yes." I didn't want to. I had a pretty good life. If something happened to me without producing the Delaney heir that Jitty kept hounding me about, I'd never hear the end of it. Jitty would haunt me in the afterlife just as she did now.

"No!" Tinkie stepped forward. "Let me do it. She has reason to hate Sarah Booth because of the movie. I'm not involved with any of it. She may listen to me."

"She whacked you on the head and kicked Chablis," I reminded her. "You're as vulnerable as I am. And you look like a raccoon. She won't talk to you."

The bruises from the wreck had already begun to settle around Tinkie's eyes. She did look remarkably like the masked bandit of the animal world.

"She'll be a lot more receptive to me," Tinkie insisted.

"Ladies." King held up a hand. "I've never seen two civilians argue for the chance to get shot."

"You've never met a true Mississippi gal," Tinkie said.

"And hope never to again," King said under his breath. He looked at me and then Tinkie. "She's going in." He pointed at Tinkie. "Get her a vest and as much protection as we can," he said to one of the men, who led Tinkie away to make a Kevlar selection.

"You can't let her risk herself," I told him. "She has a husband and friends who love her."

He only arched an eyebrow. "All we need is for her to get
the door open. She's short and if we have to, we can take the shot right over her head."

The idea was awful. But I could see from King's and Tinkie's faces that they were going full ahead. "I've got to find a toilet," I said. "I'm going to be sick."

"That way," a young deputy pointed.

Vomit was such an effective threat. They were only too glad that I was ambulatory and could clean myself up. I slipped away without anyone giving me a second thought.

The sound stage looked to me like a huge warehouse with metal doors that slid on runners. Inside, there were different sets and climate-controlled conditions. I had no idea which set Jovan might be occupying with her prisoners, but I would find out.

As I passed a patrol car, I saw a canister of pepper spray on the seat. I reached in and took it. Then I was running, heading behind the building, hoping that there might be a way for me to slip inside before Tinkie could risk her life.

I heard Sheriff King cursing a blue streak, but I was too far away for him to stop me, unless he shot me, and I was reasonably sure he wouldn't do that. Not yet.

When I made it to a corner of the building, I pressed myself against it and took some deep breaths. To my horror, I saw that Tinkie was proceeding toward the building, too. She was going straight to the doors.

I pushed off the wall and began circling behind. Although I couldn't see them, I knew snipers surrounded the building. Moving quickly, I ran along the back looking for a window or door or some opening where I could push myself inside. I had to hurry. Tinkie and Graf both were in danger.

I was on the north side when I found a window with a cracked pane. If I did this wrong, tragedy could result. Using my elbow, I cracked the glass more and began to pull it out piece by piece. When I could get my hand and arm inside, I unlocked the window and gently raised it.

In another three minutes, I was inside, completely disoriented but able to hear the sound of someone knocking.

"Go away or I'll kill Milieu," Jovan yelled.

I followed her voice, tracking silently through the huge building.

"It's Tinkie Richmond," I heard my partner say. "Will you please talk to me? Jovan, your mother is worried sick about you."