Hit and Run (2 page)

“If he’s calling you, he thinks the threat is in-house.”

“That’s my guess.”

They both knew what that meant. Three years ago, when Scarlet had been a detective and Krista a rookie cop, they’d nearly died in an ambush neither had been expecting. No one had been apprehended, and Scarlet was certain that someone in-house had set them up. If it weren’t for Krista, Scarlet would be dead.

“Why didn’t he call John?”

“I don’t know.” Which bothered Scarlet. Her brother and Jason had been friends since they were kids. Jason was one of the cops who regularly came over to her dad’s house for barbeques. Ever since Captain Moreno retired, his house had been the hang-out spot for cops in the Valley division. Scarlet rarely went anymore. She hadn’t made any secret of her belief that a cop had set up the ambush and that certainly hadn’t ingratiated herself with her former friends and colleagues. Even her dad had told her to stand down.

“LAPD has its problems, Scarlet. I won’t lie to you. But I worry about you if you pursue this. Let it die down. You’re a damn good cop.”

She couldn’t let it go. So she quit. The hardest decision she’d ever had to make. Harder even than breaking it off with her fiancé.

“Scarlet, you’re not thinking this is related to the ambush.”

She didn’t say anything.

“That was three years ago,” Krista continued.

“And whoever set us up is still out there.”

“You told me you’d put it behind you.”

“No—I said that I wouldn’t let it consume me.”

“Splitting hairs.”

“I haven’t let it interfere with my work.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts. I’m
fine.
And Jason’s situation might not be related to his job at all.” Though as she said it she knew neither of them believed it. If he wasn’t scared of another cop, he’d have no need to call Scarlet.

“What’s the plan?” Krista asked.

“He said he can’t go home. He’s holed up in his sister’s house in Long Beach—I know where it is. I’m going in alone—”

“How do you know this isn’t a set-up?”

“I don’t. But why? I’m not a cop anymore. He contacted me. And you didn’t hear how he sounded. He’s freaked, and street cops like Jason don’t get scared unless they have good reason. I need you outside, hidden, watching the house. Alert me if you see anything suspicious. I’m going to listen to him, hopefully figure out what’s going on, and take him to a safe place.”

“Where?”

“Diego has a little rental house in Topanga Canyon,” she said. Diego owned the bar over which Scarlet lived. “The last residents got popped for cooking meth, and Diego needs to get the property cleared by Cal-EPA or county health or some other bureaucratic agency before he can rent it again. It’s going to cost, and Diego is cheap.”

“He’s still paying a mortgage on the house.” Krista, ever practical.

“Probably not much. He’s had the place for years.” Scarlet paused. “After I was shot, I lived there for a few months, licking my wounds.”

“I thought you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Three years ago Scarlet wished she had just disappeared. But Krista had saved her life twice—first aid during the gun battle that had trapped them, and then by bringing her into the PI business. Scarlet still missed being a cop, but she didn’t want to go back. Being a PI was no walk in the park, but she had the flexibility she’d never had in LAPD. And she could quietly look into the ambush without making waves.

“It’s a good place for Jason to keep a low profile if he needs it,” Scarlet said.

“Where do you want me?”

“Drop me two blocks away, then search for a good vantage point. It’s a quiet neighborhood, but lots of people park on the street. Grab the radios from my backpack.”

Krista turned around in her seat and pulled out two radios. She clipped one to her belt and handed the other to Scarlet.

“I’m hoping this will be easy,” Scarlet said. “Jason will tell me what’s going on. If he needs a place to lay low, I’ll send him to Topanga or take him there myself.” She glanced at Krista. “We might be done in time to salvage your date with tall, dark and slimy.”

Krista glared at her. “What about ‘off-limits’ don’t you understand?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m a big girl, Scarlet. My eyes are wide open. It’s just
one date.
It means nothing.”

“Really?”

“Off. Limits.”

Krista was silently fuming, so Scarlet dropped the subject.

For now.

Scarlet circled the neighborhood. It was typical Long Beach—small houses interspersed with duplexes and two-story apartment buildings. As the neighborhood neared the beach, the houses and apartments became nicer—many renovated and much more expensive. A half mile in the other direction was a borderline-slum with chain-link fences and sagging buildings, but this neighborhood was moving up.

“People with money fixing up the place,” Krista said. “It’s nice.”

“Yep. You should have seen Leah’s house before she dumped money into it. What’s with people spending so much money on their digs?”

“Not everyone likes to live above a dive bar.”

“Hey. Diego’s isn’t a dive. There it is,” Scarlet said, gesturing to the small Spanish-style house with tile roof. A low stucco fence surrounded the postage-stamp sized front yard. Six steps led to a tiny porch overwhelmed by two chairs. If the house was a thousand square feet, she’d be surprised. But it was bigger than her apartment. She’d helped Leah move in years ago. It was cute and suited her.

It was also quiet. No lights on. No car in the driveway. It looked empty.

“You sure you have the right house?”

“Yep.”

Scarlet drove two blocks down, pulled over, and jumped out. She saluted Krista, who slid over to the driver’s seat.

Scarlet jogged back to Leah’s house. She didn’t see anyone watching the place. She knocked on the front door. No answer. No movement. She tried the door. Locked.

Did she pick the lock? Go in? What if Jason wasn’t here? Breaking and entering?

Instead of going through the front, she went down the long, narrow single-car driveway to the back. The garage was detached and situated almost completely behind house. A brick patio and another postage-sized area of lawn separated the house from the garage. She tried the back door. It was unlocked.

Gun in hand, she opened the door. “Jason!” she called in a stage whisper.

She heard a footfall behind her. She swung around and saw her old friend step around the garage into the backyard. He, too, had a gun.

“Put it down, Jason.”

“You first.”

What? Jason was her
friend.
And he had a gun on her. Her anger level rose. “You called
me
.”

Jason glanced around. “You alone?”

“Put the damn gun down.”

He lowered his weapon, so she lowered hers.

“My partner is keeping an eye out,” she said.

“Partner?”

“Krista Hart.”

“I remember her.”

“Where I go, she goes. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Someone tried to kill me today.”

“That’s what you said. Let’s go inside.”

He hesitated, then nodded and opened the back door, motioning her to go in first. She did, looking around to make sure no one was lurking. They were in a small eating area off the kitchen. She walked through the kitchen into the dining room, then finally holstered her gun.

“I can’t stay here long,” Jason said. “They’ll find me.”

“I have a safe place, but first—talk to me, Jason.”

Jason didn’t turn on any lights. The street lighting cast a faint glow through the partly-closed mini-blinds in the adjoining living room. He paced the width of the dining room.

“Sit,” she told him.

He almost didn’t, then pulled out a chair and sat. His whole body was tense, which made her hyper-alert as well. Every car that passed burned her ears as she listened for the tell-tale sign of slowing, observation.

She remained standing. “What’s going on, Jason? Who tried to kill you? Why didn’t you call your captain?”

“I wanted to—but I can’t. I don’t trust anyone.”

“John will help.”

Jason shook his head. “He’s part of the system. I can’t go to him, risk his career—risk his life. I didn’t even want to call you, but I don’t know where else to turn.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t even know!”

“Jason. From the beginning.”

He took a deep breath, let it out, looked her in the eye. “The beginning? I don’t even know
when
it started, but I think it was when my sergeant split up my partner and me. Put us each with a rookie.”

Her heart skipped a beat. That’s what happened to her right before the ambush three years ago. She and her partner, Detective Gabe Stone, were separated and reassigned as training officers. That’s how she met Krista. It wasn’t uncommon, most cops had to train at one point . It was that it came as a surprise, and only two weeks before the ambush. Scarlet hadn’t thought it was suspicious until later.

And now a similar situation had happened to Jason.

Jason continued. “Last night, I was coming off shift late—after midnight. I was totally beat after a shitty day. I had three domestic violence calls in a row, then thirty minutes before I was supposed to clock out, a gang shooting. Thirteen-year-old shot and killed a twelve-year-old. I was first on scene.” He paused, the anger and grief etched in his face.

“I was halfway home when my partner, Gina Perez, called me. We hadn’t seen much of each other this last month since we had the training assignments and she was studying for her detective exam. She asked me to come over. Said it was urgent. Gina sounded scared, and she doesn’t get scared. She’s from Boyle Heights and survived gang turf battles like you’ve never seen.”

Scarlet didn’t know Gina Perez, but since Jason worked out of the Mission and she’d been North Hollywood then moved to Van Nuys when she made detective, she wasn’t surprised.

“I asked her what was going on, and she said she didn’t want to talk about it over the phone, which sounded so cliché I laughed. I can’t believe I laughed.”

He stared at his hands and Scarlet was getting frustrated. “
What. Happened
.”

“I asked if she wanted me to call our sergeant and she said hell no, that it was about him. She said, and I quote, ‘Jay, I think he’s dirty. I need to show you something.’”

Scarlet already suspected this was going south quickly. “Who’s your sergeant?”

“Tony Mercer.”

She didn’t know him, but made a mental note to look him up.

“I tried to get her to stay on the phone with me because she was freaked,” Jason said, “but she said she needed to triple check her locks. Gina lives off Sunland Boulevard, and I had been over in Northridge. By the time she hung up, I’d already turned around and got back on the one-eighteen heading east. I got there twelve minutes later.

“The front door was cracked open. I pulled my weapon, pushed the door in. Gina was lying in the entry way, dead. Shot twice in the chest. I checked her pulse. She was gone. I stared for a couple seconds—I couldn’t believe she was dead. It was stupid, rookie mistake. If I’d acted faster…” He shook his head, as if to clear his mind. “A sound startled me from the back of the house. I should have called for back-up. I shouldn’t have entered the house. But Gina was my partner. My friend. More than a friend. You know how it is, Scarlet.”

She nodded. Right or wrong, she would have done the same thing if Krista had been killed.

“I was still in uniform. As I walked down, I saw someone emerge from Gina’s extra bedroom where she has a little office. I identified myself, told them to stop. He fired at me, but what made me hesitate was I saw a flash of a badge on his belt, under his jacket, and then he ran out the back. I pursued. He was jumping the back fence when I stopped and fired at him. I think I hit him, but I’m not positive. He disappeared. I came back, called it in, but a patrol was already on their way.”

“Okay. I don’t see the problem here. Someone killed Gina, possibly a cop. Why are you on the run? Why can’t you go to your Captain?”

“Because today, someone tried to kill me.”

“When? Where?”

“They asked me to go to the station to give my statement. I did, and started for home. Four in the morning. A black SUV ran me off the road. I got out to confront them, but then I saw two men emerge, both with guns. They fired. I ran.”

“How’d you get here?”

Scarlet’s radio beeped. She answered. “Moreno.”

Krista said, “Two patrol cars circled the block. Now one is parked at either end of the street.”

Jason paled.

“Got it,” Scarlet said. “Jason, the best thing to do is go in and talk.”

“And you would have? After you knew someone tried to kill you in that ambush?”

She froze. “What do you know about that?”

“Nothing, except that when I saw Gina, I remembered what happened to you. She was a lot like you—she didn’t take bullshit and she asked a lot of questions. You’re the only one I can trust, Scarlet. I’m not coming out now. I will be killed, if not here, then in custody. I don’t fucking know
why!
”

She stuffed the sheet of paper with Diego’s address into his hand. “Safe house. Get there.”

“How do I know you won’t turn me in?”

“You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Scarlet’s radio beeped. “SWAT turned down the block.”

SWAT?

A movement in the front, outside the blinds, caught Scarlet’s eye. She didn’t know what it was, but she made a judgment call.

“Call Leah and tell her I’m house sitting.” She handed Jason her cell phone.

“Why?”

“Do not answer the phone unless caller ID reads
Krista.
Go. Now.”

Jason didn’t hesitate. He ran out the back, into the dark.

Damn, damn, damn.

She hoped her trust in Jason wasn’t misplaced.

Scarlet ran down the short hall to the guest room—twin bed, dresser, desk, and lots of books and boxes stacked in the corner. She pulled down the spread, hit the pillow a couple times, looked through the dresser. Old clothes? Okay, she could work with that. Lea was taller than her, but otherwise they were the same basic shape and build.