Part 44 (2/2)
Thanks for everything. Don't worry. I'm with friends.
Friends?
My heart felt dead in my chest.
I looked at the clock. The Dorsey funeral would start in a little more than an hour.
I dialed Claudel's pager, then made coffee, dressed, and made the bed.
Seven-fifteen.
I sipped and picked at a cuticle.
The earth rotated. Tectonic plates s.h.i.+fted. Twelve acres of rain forest disappeared from the globe forever.
I went to the bathroom, combed my hair, dabbed on makeup, added blush, returned to the kitchen for a second cup.
Seven-thirty. Where the h.e.l.l was Claudel?
Back to the bathroom, where I wet and recombed my hair. I was reaching for dental floss when the phone rang.
”I wouldn't have thought you an early riser.” Claudel.
”Kit's gone.”
”Cibole!”
I could hear traffic in the background.
”Where are you?”
”Outside the church.”
”How does it look?”
”Like a theme park of deadly sins. Sloth and gluttony are well represented.”
”I don't suppose you've seen him.”
”No, but I might not spot Fidel Castro in this crowd. Looks like every biker on the continent is here.”
”Crease?”
”No sign.”
I heard a hitch in his breathing.
”What?”
”Charbonneau and I did some more checking. From '83 to '89 Lyle Crease was playing foreign correspondent, not secret agent. But the only reports he was filing were with the guard on his cell block.”
”He did time?” I asked, unnerved.
”Six years, south of the border.”
”Mexico?”
”Juarez.”
My heart came back to life and thumped inside my chest.
”Crease is a killer and Kit may be with him. I've got to do something.”
Claudel's voice went cop cold.
”Don't even think about freelancing, Ms. Brennan. These bikers look like sharks smelling the water for blood, and it could get rough down here.”
”And Kit could get sucked into the feeding frenzy!” I heard my voice catch, and stopped to steady myself.
”I'll send a patrol car to pick Crease up.”
”Suppose he has funeral plans?”
”If he shows his face, we'll arrest him.”
”And if a nineteen-year-old kid gets nailed along the way?” I was almost yelling.
”All I'm saying is don't come down here.”
”Then find this b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”
I'd hardly disconnected when I heard my cell phone.
Kit!
I raced to the bedroom and pulled it from my purse.
The voice was quavery, like a child after a long cry.
”You need to know what they're doing.”
At first I felt confusion, then recognition, then apprehension.
”Who, Jocelyn?”
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