Crash and Burn (11 page)

The presence of date rape drugs would help Valerie in any prosecution—if they could prove who raped her.

There was a knock on Valerie’s door. The girl jumped, and Scarlet said, “I’ll answer it.”

She looked through the peephole. At first she didn’t recognize the tousled-haired guy, then she saw that it was Chase Flores, from Valerie’s photos. Dammit! She needed to detain him for Bishop, but how?

“Valerie?” Chase said through the door.

Scarlet walked back to Valerie. “The police have been looking for Chase. I need to get him inside, where I can cuff him. Can you answer the door?” Scarlet was afraid Chase would bolt if he saw her.

Valerie nodded, though her eyes were skittish. “Chase?” she said through the door.

“Thank God. I’ve been so worried.”

She opened the door. Scarlet stayed out of sight, but where she could intervene if Chase turned violent.

“What do you want?” Valerie asked.

From Scarlet’s vantage point, she couldn’t clearly see Chase, but what she did see suggested that he hadn’t slept at all since Friday. Yet he wasn’t in the same clothes he’d had on at the bar.

“I was so worried about you, Val.”

He put his hand up to reach for her, and Valerie flinched. “Don’t touch me!”

“Val, don’t you remember? I—”

“Stay away from me. How could you?” Valerie backed away from the door.

Scarlet stepped out of her hiding spot, concerned about Valerie’s safety, though Chase looked to be on the verge of tears just like the girl. “Mr. Flores, you need—”

Before she couldn’t finish her sentence, he bolted.

Scarlet ran after him. While she was fit and ran half-marathons several times a year, Chase was a twenty-two year old young man who sprinted much faster than she. He jumped in a sporty Honda and pealed out of the parking lot. Scarlet got the plate number and went back to Valerie’s apartment.

“Are you okay?” she asked her.

Valerie, huddled in the corner of the couch, nodded. She looked anything but okay.

“Stay here. Do not open the door for anyone until your mom gets here, okay? I’m going to track down Detective Bishop and Chase and make sure no one hurts you.”

She called Krista.

“Yep,” Krista answered, half asleep.

“I need your help. Can you babysit a rape victim until her mom arrives? The guy who may have raped her just showed up at her apartment, and I need to find him. But I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“What’s the address?”

Scarlet rattled it off.

“I can be there in forty minutes.”

“Thanks, buddy. I owe you.”

Krista snorted. “I’m not keeping score.”

Scarlet cut off the call and said, “My partner is going to stay with you. Let me make you something to eat.”

~ ~ ~

Scarlet had gotten Valerie to eat half a bagel before Krista arrived. Scarlet told Valerie to pack a bag in her bedroom, and when she was out of earshot, Scarlet filled her partner in. She showed her photos of Chase Flores and gave her a basic description of Skip Oliver. “I doubt Chase will return, but might if he’s watching the place and sees me leave.”

“Got it. No problem. I don’t need tile in my bathroom.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Right. Like you were really planning on working on your house today.”

“I was thinking about making a list of what I need to tile the bathroom,” Krista said. She gave Scarlet a half-smile. “I printed out instructions.”

Scarlet laughed. “Baby steps.”

“It’s not like we’ve had a lot of time lately.”

That was certainly true. They took every job they could get to build their name in the business.

Scarlet made sure Valerie and Krista were secured in the apartment, then left and called Bishop again. Again, voice mail. She gave him the one-minute version of what happened at Valerie’s and ended with, “I have a theory. It’s rough, but we need to talk.”

Her phone beeped that she had a call coming in, and she answered immediately, hoping it was Bishop.

It wasn’t.

“Scarlet, Jim Douglas. I need your help.”

Shit. The last thing she wanted to do was mediate between Jim and Wendy. As far as she was concerned, they were both crazy.

“I’m in the middle of something.”

“Wendy followed you here! She’s sitting outside my building right now, in her car, watching my door. I think she’s been there all night!”

Damn, damn,
damn!

“I’ll be right there. I’ll talk to her. Stay away from her.”

She hung a U-turn at the next light and sped back into Irvine. Ten minutes later, she was at Jim’s place.

She drove around the block once to ground herself with the situation. Wendy was parked across the street from the apartment complex, sitting in her damaged car. She wore large sunglasses and her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but it was clearly Jim’s ex.

Scarlet parked several spots behind her, then approached the vehicle as if she were doing a traffic stop—with extreme caution.

Wendy had her driver’s side window rolled down. She wasn’t moving. For a brief moment, Scarlet thought she was dead, but her body was perfectly straight, her head turned toward Jim’s.

“Wendy,” Scarlet said. She looked for Wendy’s hands. Both were visible in her lap.

“Go away.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“He called me last night.”

Well, shit. He called her.

“He told me that he didn’t love me anymore, that he didn’t want anything to do with me. That
you
said if he read the letter I would stay away from him.”

“That’s what you told me.”

“No I didn’t!”

If Krista wasn’t protecting Valerie, Scarlet would have called her. If Scarlet had been a cop, she would have called for back up. The woman had more than one screw loose.

“Wendy,” Scarlet said in her calmest, most reasonable voice, “yesterday, when we talked, you promised me that you would leave Jim alone.”

“But he read my letter! Why can’t he understand I’m lost without him?”

“Is there anyone you can stay with? Your parents?”

“My parents love Jim more than they love me!” She twisted in her seat and her left hand fell to her side, out of Scarlet’s sight. Scarlet put her hand on her hip only so it would be closer to her gun. “They told me since he broke off the engagement, I needed to stop thinking about him, but I can’t turn my love off like a faucet! How can he?”

“Whatever you and Jim had, you don’t have anymore. Wendy, you’re a beautiful, smart woman.” Well, the jury was out on the
smart
part, but Scarlet hope her point was getting through. “You will find someone who appreciates you for you.”

She slammed both fists on the steering wheel. “No!” The horn blared, and she slammed it again.

Wendy didn’t have a gun—at least she wasn’t holding one.

“Wendy—”

“I saw it Friday when you looked at him. It’s all your fault. You did this.”

“No, I didn’t do anything except what you hired me to do.”

Wendy laughed. “Right. But you jumped when Jim called, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why else are you here? Except that Jim called you to get rid of me. Didn’t he? I thought you were working for me! You’re supposed to be on my side! But you’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

Big giant leap into la-la-land with that one. “No, Wendy, I am not. You need to leave right now, or I’ll have no choice but to call the police and write a citizen’s report that you’re stalking your ex-boyfriend.”

“He’s my fiancé. And we
will
get married. We
will.
Just liked we planned.”

Wendy turned the ignition and drove off, almost hitting Scarlet. She turned the corner and Scarlet waited for her to return. After five minutes, she hadn’t.

Scarlet released a pent-up breath. She walked up to Jim’s apartment. He let her in after unlocking multiple bolts.

“I think you need to disappear for a while,” she said. “Call her parents and tell them what happened, and that she needs help. I’ll contact the Irvine Police Department and have them write up a report.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was obvious he hadn’t had much sleep, either. It seemed that this weekend was sleepless for many. “I should have expected this.”

“What? That she’s psycho?”

“I thought it would blow over.”

“Why? People like that don’t just forget that they’re obsessed.”

“We were supposed to get married yesterday. When we were engaged. So I thought she was upset because of that. I thought that today it would have been over.”

That certainly explained Wendy’s actions, but it added a whole new emotional layer to the situation that Scarlet would prefer not to have to deal with. But she had no choice. From the minute she’d stopped to help after the crash on Jamboree, she was in the middle of this.

“Go to a friend’s house,” she told Jim. “Someone you trust, someone Wendy doesn’t know about.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll wait until you pack your things.”

He was surprised. “You think she’ll come back?”

“Hell yes I think she’ll come back. I think you’re right—she’s suicidal. And I think she’s homicidal. That means, first you, then her.”
And me.
Scarlet didn’t miss the accusation that
she
was somehow responsible for Jim and Wendy not getting back together. If Scarlet was right, when Wendy couldn’t find Jim, she’d go after Scarlet. Didn’t make Scarlet too happy to be a target, but she was also pretty confident that she could handle the situation and get Wendy help.

The woman needed it.

Chapter Eleven

At noon, Scarlet met Krista at a lunch truck near the Costa Mesa Freeway. Krista didn’t share Scarlet’s affinity for searching for the best lunch trucks in Orange County, but she was a good sport about it whenever Scarlet mentioned there was a new cook she wanted to try out. This one had gyros, and after the first bite Scarlet stated they were good, but not worth traveling this far.

“How’s Valerie?” she asked Krista as they took their gyros and drinks to a small picnic table and ate.

“Her mother was there when I left. So was Detective Bishop. You’re on his shit list.”

“I figured. But I did try to call him. I should get Brownie points for that.”

“I would have hung around, but he made it clear I should leave. He’s hot.”

“No cops.”

“Not for me, for you.”

“I meant, no cops for
me.
”

“Is this a new rule? Because I seem to recall that the last two… no,
three
… guys you slept with were cops.”

“I was on the rebound after Matt. I’m sane now.”

Krista shot her a knowing half grin. “Right.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. One of the problems with having a best friend who you told nearly everything is that they knew, well, nearly everything about you. The good and the bad.

“Thanks for bailing me out,” Scarlet said.

Krista dismissed her comment with a wave. “Anytime. What’s going on with the lover’s spat?”

“Far more than a spat. The woman is cuckoo. She thinks I’m the one keeping her ‘Jimmy’ from going back to her. I sent him out of town. When she can’t find him, I suspect she’ll find me.”

“I’ll stay with you tonight,” Krista said.

“And where will you sleep? The floor?”

“It’ll be fun.”

“You have a weird idea of fun. Besides, Isaac’s working tonight. I already gave him a photo of her.”

“And when the bar closes?”

“Impossible to get into my apartment, as you know. Not without setting off alarms. I’m okay. I’m expecting it. I’ll call Riley and give him the heads up. He’ll keep a patrol in the area. I’m good.”

“Probably, but you can stay with me. I at least have an extra bedroom.”

“Never. Your bird hates me. He’ll peck my eyes out while I’m sleeping.”

“Spencer hates you because you called him a bird-brain. He’s a parrot.”

“See? That’s scary. That the
parrot
understood what I said.”

Krista coughed to hide her laugh. “Well, if you’re sure. It’s a standing offer.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure.” She finished her gyro and tossed the wrapper in the garbage. They walked back toward where they parked. “Wendy gave me two thousand dollars to help her get her stuff back from her ex, but she did it to follow me and find out where he lived. At least, that’s how I think she found him. I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re hardly an idiot,” Krista said.

“I can’t keep the money.”

“You got her stuff back, right?”

“But I’m going to put her in prison.”

“You’re certain she’s going to try something.”

“Ninety percent.” One hundred percent, but Scarlet didn’t want to sound overly cocky.

“You did what she wanted, albeit she paid far too much.”

“Her choice.”

“Grey area, for certain.”

“I just—shit, Krista, I’m hardly pulling my weight around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You bring in far more money than I do. You run the office. You pay the bills. And I sit around feeling sorry for myself.”

“You are so far off I don’t know what planet you’re on.”

“Don’t try to make me feel better.”

“If I thought you were slacking off, I’d have told you.” Krista sounded angry. Why would she be angry? Scarlet was trying to come clean here. “Remember what we said when we started Moreno and Hart? It was six months after the ambush.”

“We said a lot of things,” Scarlet said.

“And the most important was that we would always be honest with each other. I trust you with my life, Scarlet.”

“You know I feel the same.”

“Exactly.
Trust.
And implicit in that is being honest. So you need to trust me that I would tell you if I thought you weren’t committed. I know you’re as frustrated as I am that we’re still working shit cases for people like Diane Stark and Tom Cavanaugh and grunt work for lawyers, but that’s what we have to do to build our reputation.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry—it’s been a rough week.” That was no excuse for dumping all this on Krista.

“So no more about it, okay?”

“Deal.” Scarlet spontaneously hugged her friend. Scarlet wasn’t a naturally demonstrative person—she preferred back slapping to hugging—but Krista had been her rock for three years, and she couldn’t let herself forget it.