Death Glitch (21 page)

“
She’s in Medford.”

“
You know where?”

“
I got a GPS on my car, which was, the last time I checked, parked at the Marriott Suites.”

“
You remember the black SUV that was in front of us when you turned off the freeway.”

“
Shit, it had government plates.”

“
There were a couple more just like it in front of it. Three of ’em.”

“
Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She tossed the rest of her burger, her coke and fries out the window, fired up the car as Black tossed his food away, too.

Izzy figured she had fifteen or twenty minutes before the pizza arrived. Time enough for a quick shower. She raised an arm, sniffed under it. “Holy crap!” She picked up the green pool towels, started for the bathroom, but stopped before entering.

“
What the—” the words caught in her throat when she saw her reflection in the mirror above the washbasin. Her hair, the lovely, long trestles she’d cut off, it was back in all his auburn glory. “How?” It made no sense. She’d hacked it off, made herself look like a meth queen and now, as if by magic, she looked like a prom queen. What was up with that? Was she going crazy? It wasn’t possible.

But then again, a lot of not possible stuff had been happening to her.

“
Shake it off, Izzy,” she told herself.

In the bathroom, she pulled off her clothes, turned on the water, set it for as hot as she could stand it and stepped under the spray. She pulled the shower curtain and sighed, thinking of the line Mary Magdalene sings to Jesus in the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar:

Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to

Problems that upset you oh don’t you know

Everything’s alright yes everythin’s fine

And we want you to sleep well tonight

Let the world turn without you tonight

If we try we’ll get by so forget all about us tonight

She so wanted to forget about everything that had happened to her. Earlier she’d hoped she could drink a bottle of wine, rest for the evening, really forget about everything. But now she knew she wouldn’t be getting her peaceful night. However, she wanted a few minutes at least. She wasn’t Christ, but she thought even he would be struggling under the weight of her problems.

She felt the hot water needles against her back. She closed her eyes, hummed the lyrics to Mary’s song. How she’d loved that record when it came out, oh so long ago. She’d been in med school, with her whole life ahead of her.

And it looked as if she had her whole life ahead of her all over again. How crazy was that?

“
Stop it!” she told herself, but she couldn’t help it, her mind wasn’t going to let her have even a few minutes of peace. Something crazy was going on and she was at the very heart of it.

She leaned back into the spray, let the hot water cascade over her hair. She ran her fingers through it. Having hair again was wonderful. Being better was wonderful. Being young again was wonderful. But having her hair back, Lord that was great.

“
Oh, my God!” She gasped. No wonder Emily had that look on her face. It had been meth queen Izzy who’d checked into the Marriott, but it had been the prom queen version of herself Emily had seen just now. She’d been transformed during her nap, back into the lady killer on all the news channels.

Had Emily recognized her as the woman wanted for murder? And if she had, did she know that the meth and prom queen were the same person? Maybe not, but maybe so.

She shut off the water, grabbed a towel, dried off as she left the bathroom.

“
We gotta go, Hunter. We gotta go now!”

* * *

Lila took the first Medford off-ramp, followed it around toward the City Center, but made a right into the Marriott Suites parking lot.

“
There’s my car.” She pointed to her Crown Vic, was about to park next to it, when she saw three black Suburbans. Government SUVs. One man was standing guard by the government cars, but her Crown Vic, parked four spaces away from the Suburbans, was unguarded.

“
Doesn’t look like they know about the car,” Black said.

“
Yeah.” Lila wondered what she was still doing with this Black character. She should’ve dumped him the second she found out he was okay, but she didn’t. He’d proven his worth with that helicopter, maybe he would again. She hoped so, because it looked like she was going to need all the help she could get.

“
You wanna save the woman or you wanna walk away?” Black said.

“
What do you think?”

“
Then get out of the car and start running.”

“
What?”

“
Head for the roller rink on the other side of that field there.” He pointed. “Once you pass the rink, cut right to the Fred Meyer store on the far side of the parking lot. In the store, lose the coat, then go to the deli and order something to eat. Don’t be in a hurry. Act like you don’t have a care in the world.”

“
You’re going to set them after me, aren’t you?”

“
Don’t get caught.”

“
Shit.” She got of the car, took off at a dead run.

“
It’s her!” Black shouted. “The killer woman. The Eisenhower woman!”

“
What?” the man watching the black SUVs said as Lila streaked past. She looked over her shoulder. Black had his arm outstretched, his finger pointed at her as she ran. The government man was shouting into a radio no bigger than a cell phone. She had to give it to Black, that old man thought fast on his feet.

She turned away from the scene behind, faced forward, pumped her arms locomotive quick, using them to force her legs to move faster, because any second there was going to be a passel of FBI agents in her wake. Fortunately, she was a runner. And double fortunately, they wanted Izzy Eisenhower alive, so they wouldn’t be shooting at her. At least she hoped not.

A shot rang out, loud as a Navy jet breaking the sound barrier, as she rounded the skating rink. What the fuck? Now she was out of the sun and in the shade of the building, with it between her and the gaggle of FBI agents she was sure were on her trail.

Ahead of her, she saw a group of stores, a garden store, a hardware store, more on the right. A Subway and a Mexican restaurant on the left. Further on a Taco Bell and a gas station. To the right, across an endless parking lot, the Fred Meyer store.

She ran past the roller rink, was exposed as she dashed toward the parking lot. Any second she expected black SUVs to come flying into the lot, blocking her path. She tried to pour on more speed, but the long duster was holding her back. Not only that, the coat made her stand out like blood on a white carpet. She would never make it to the Fred Meyer store in time and if they came after her with guns, her goose was going to be cooked.

She saw a red trash can in front of the hardware store, only seconds away. She headed for it, reached under her coat as she ran, pulled her shoulder holster’s quick release. She was going to have to lose the Glock as well, along with her custom designed holster. She pulled them off, coat and holster as one, as she ran. At the trash can, she pushed open the slot on the top, dropped them in, then slowed to a walk just as two black SUVs came careening into the parking lot, shooting past the Taco Bell like hungry wolves.

Lila was unarmed and felt naked. She was out of breath, exposed and scared, a new feeling for her. She desperately didn’t want to get caught, because after the incident with the helicopter, she knew these guys would either shoot her or bury her so far in their prison system, she’d never get out.

One of the SUVs went right, toward the gas station and the Fred Meyer store. The other one came straight for her. She took a deep breath, exhaled, forced herself into a leisurely pace as the SUV pulled alongside.

She stopped.

The guy riding shotgun lowered his window.

“
You seen a woman in a long coat, maybe running?”

“
Who wants to know?”

“
Government business.”

“
How do I know that?”

“
Because I told you.”

“
Sorry, not good enough for me.” She was trying for haughty, hoping they’d see her as a stuck up bitch, who thought she was better than them.

“
FBI.” He flashed an open wallet, showed his creds, which looked pretty official from where she stood.

“
Well then, I saw a woman in a brown coat, one of those kinds you see in old cowboy movies. She the one you’re looking for?”

“
That’s her.”

“
She got in a car that was parked in front of Radio Shack.” Lila pointed. “Over there. Took off like a bat out of you know where. Maybe a minute, no less than a minute ago, just now.”

“
Kind of car?”

“
An SUV, smaller than the one you got, dark blue, I think, or maybe green.” She knew enough not to be too exact, witnesses who were telling the truth, never were.

“
What kind of SUV?”

“
Say again.”

“
Ford Explorer, Chevy Tahoe, American, Japanese, you know.”

“
No, I don’t. And I’m not trying to be smart. I don’t know cars. My brother’s an expert, me I know photography and art.”

“
You see which way she went?”

Lila pointed South.

The man picked up a mic. “She’s in an SUV, blue maybe green, going south, probably turned onto the freeway.” He turned toward Lila. “Thanks,” he said as the driver hit the gas.

“
Don’t mention it,” Lila said, but the man didn’t hear as they were already halfway across the parking lot, headed toward the street and a mythical woman they were never going to catch.

* * *

Izzy poked her head out the door. Saw two men in suits running down the hall, running toward reception. One of them collided into an aging black man, who had just rounded the corner into the hallway. The running suit pushed the black man aside, without even an apology.

The man fell, hit his head against the wall on his way down. Stunned, Izzy watched as the suits disappeared and the falling man thudded onto the carpeted floor.

Every fiber in her being said to get the gun, stuff it in her purse, call the dog, make for the back door and get the heck out of Dodge. But she was a doctor and there was a man down. She turned toward Hunter behind her.

“
Stay.” She closed the door, sprinted down the hall, dropped to her knees at the fallen man. She reached for a carotid to check his pulse, but rattlesnake quick he grabbed her wrist as he moaned, eyes only partially open. “You okay?” She wondered how he could be so fast and appear so out of it.

“
Dr. Eisenhower I presume,” he said, eyes wide open now.

“
Shit.” She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

“
Easy, I’m here to help.” His voice was low, his speech slow, as if he were talking to a skittish animal.

“
I don’t—”

“
We don’t have time for excuses and lies.” He was still holding her in his granite grip. “This place is crawling with FBI agents. Lila Booth has drawn them off, but they’ll be back pretty quick.”

“
I—”

“
I’m going to let you go,” he said, cutting her off again. “You’ve got to get your keys and we’ve got to drive Lila’s car on outta here. We’ve got to do it now. Do you understand? Are we on the same page?”

“
I’ve got a dog.” She didn’t know why she’d said that.

“
Swell.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Next you’re going to tell me it’s a malamute.”

“
No. He’s a husky.”

“
Almost the same.” He released her wrist. “My name’s Black, Let’s get your dog and get gone.”

She got up from the floor without pain, something she wouldn’t have been able to do a few days ago. She saw him wince, thought about running, but she needed to get Hunter and her purse.

She decided to trust this old man and held out a hand. He grabbed it in a Viking grip and she pulled him to his feet.

“
Thanks.”

“
This way.” She headed back to her room, with the old man right behind. At the door, she remembered the way Hunter had attacked Shaffer. “Sometimes the dog isn’t very friendly.”

“
It’ll be okay, dogs like me.” And Hunter did like him, rubbing up against the big man like they were long lost friends. Scratching between the dog’s ears, Black said, “We’ll go out the back way.”

Izzy didn’t know why she trusted this man, but she did and it felt good, letting somebody else take charge. She sighed, “Right behind you.” She grabbed her things, “Come on, Hunter.”

* * *

Lila was at the garden entrance to the Fred Meyer’s store, she went in through the outside gate, passed a cashier, made her way into the store, found her way to the deli, then stopped herself.

“
What the F.” she said aloud. Without a weapon for only a few minutes and she felt naked, exposed and she didn’t like the feeling.

“
Can I help you?” a pleasant looking, freckle faced youth, who was working the deli said. His hair was almost tan, somewhere between brown and blond, like the color of the paper bags on the counter behind him.