Serial Date: A Leine Basso Thriller (20 page)

Chapter 31

Gene Dorfenberger was
no stranger to waiting. He'd been tapped as a getaway driver more times than he could count. It was always the same. Wait, keep an eye out, wait some more. Hope you don't hear shots fired. Wait again, until the rest of the gang comes running, jump in the car and scream at you to hit the gas, then drive like hell. Not a great way to spend your time, but safer than doing the actual job.

Gene was done playing it safe.

This time, he swore to himself he'd make things up to Leine. He'd never intended for April to be involved. The only reason he'd agreed to deliver Leine to Azazel was because he figured she'd be able to take care of herself. She was smart and had the skills to take out another killer. Gene hadn't banked on April showing up.

He hadn't banked on a lot more than that. He had no idea Azazel was going to continue to kill the contestants. The call to Ella hadn't gone well. She'd cursed him for a full twenty minutes before she hung up. Didn't matter to Gene. All that mattered was she got Brenda the hell out of town. Somewhere Azazel couldn't find her.

If everything worked out the way Gene envisioned, he'd rescue April and re-earn Leine's trust. Without April, Azazel wouldn't have a bargaining chip. Leine would then be free to hunt him down without the added stress of keeping her daughter alive. He hoped she made him suffer when she did find him. Knowing her, though, it'd be quick. Gene didn't think it was so easy to change a person's working style.

Gene sighed and lit a cigarette. Maybe he'd take the money he saved from the Serial Date gig and buy a piece of land in Montana. Sure, it was cold as hell in the winter, but there wasn't much pollution to speak of and the place was so big, he could keep to himself, live out the rest of his life reading, do some writing. Hell, maybe he'd even start a little ranch. Couldn't be too hard, right?

He glanced toward the end of the block at Cory's car. He'd have to make sure the kid was elsewhere if this surveillance thing checked out. There hadn't been a lot of activity on the street: a couple of kids kicking around a soccer ball; a woman in a jogging suit taking her dog for a walk. Typical summer afternoon.

Gene leaned his head back and blew smoke rings at the windshield. There was movement out of the corner of his eye. The side door opened on a white house about a third of the way down the block and a woman with dark hair stepped out, carrying a paper grocery bag. She walked over to a garbage can and dropped it in before she turned toward the house. Gene brought his gaze back to the door and caught a glimpse of a redheaded woman. No, make that a strawberry blonde-headed woman.

Gene sat forward and grabbed for his phone. The red haired woman disappeared behind the door as the dark haired woman walked back up the steps into the house. Gene punched in Cory's number.

“You see something?” Cory asked.

“Nah, not yet. Hey, I'm getting hungry. You up for running over to that coffee shop Leine talked about and getting me a black coffee and blueberry muffin? Get something for yourself, too. I'm buying.”

“You sure that's okay? I mean, I don't want to miss something.”

“Yeah, it's fine. This has to be the quietest neighborhood I ever seen.”

Gene waited until Cory left and then got out of the car. He shoved his Glock in his waistband, looked down both sides of the street and crossed to the opposite sidewalk. He slowed as he reached the white house, keeping an eye on the door. Stepping behind the thick trunk of a eucalyptus tree, he waited and watched the house.

After a few minutes, he checked to make sure no one was nearby and slipped between the white house and its neighbor. He crouched, slipping down the driveway toward the one-car garage in back with an eye toward the house. What he saw told him the side door led into a small entryway next to the kitchen. He continued to the garage and looked in through the small window. A red Honda Civic was parked inside.

His heart beating rapidly in his chest, he skirted the yard and sidled up against the house so he could peek in a larger window.

The window opened onto a small room with an old fashioned closet. Several boxes of gardening tools had been stacked neatly against one wall. The closet held what looked like pairs of fisherman's waders on hangers. Gene moved on to the back door. The lack of gutters and roof overhang told him the house had been built during World War Two. Its back door had been modified somewhat by one of the owners replacing the original single door with a pair of French doors. One of them stood ajar.

Gene worked his way to the side of the door, all his senses alert. He drew his gun from his waistband and double checked that he had a bullet in the chamber. Wiping perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand, he crept inside the house.

***

Leine parked a block down from her house in a vacant lot, grabbed the small pack sitting on the seat next to her and cut through the alleyway to the backyard. She had to get to her weapons stash before she did what Azazel requested. Careful to remain hidden from view of the house in case Eric stationed someone there, she slipped into the garage and went to the door of the small room. Earlier, she'd searched her purse for the key to the lock, but couldn't find the keychain. She assumed it had fallen out of her purse into her other car, or might still be in the house.

She reached inside the pack and produced a burglar's pick. Making short work of the lock, she opened the door and turned on the light.

Her heart missed a beat. The shelves were clean. Eric's people found the room. All her hardware was gone, including a simple metal file she'd thrown in when she discovered it in a drawer in the kitchen.

That left her with the nine millimeter, the night vision gear and the electronic scramblers she'd used on the Russian import store. She closed the door and exited the garage, headed back to her car.

The unmistakable sound of
The Godfather's
theme song broke through the quiet of the afternoon as she approached her car. She quickly unlocked the door and grabbed her phone.

Azazel.

“Finally.” He sounded upset. “Madeleine. Listen to me closely. There is a man following you. He was waiting for you at your house. He's muscular, has blonde hair and I think he may want to kill you.”

The phone went dead. Leine scanned the street in both directions. She didn't see anything, but that didn't mean much. Eric's people were experts—trained to be invisible. She was surprised Azazel warned her. Didn't he want to see her dead?

But it wouldn't have been by his hand. He'd feel cheated. For once, she was glad he'd rigged cameras outside her house.

Leine reached under the seat for her gun.

Chapter 32

Cory paid for
the coffee and muffins, drove the two blocks back to the neighborhood and pulled in behind Gene's car. He didn't see anyone through the window. Probably napping, Cory thought. He got out of his car with Gene's coffee in one hand and the blueberry muffin in the other and walked to the driver's side window. Gene wasn't there.

He set the coffee and muffin on the roof of the car and looked around. There was nothing happening in the neighborhood that he could see. A bumblebee buzzed by him and Cory took a step backward.

When Gene didn't appear, Cory placed the coffee and muffin on his dash. He wondered if Gene had seen something while he was at the coffee shop and was checking it out. Just my luck, Cory thought. He thought about walking back to his car to drink his hot chocolate when he heard two pops, one after the other. Two more followed, but further apart than the last two. Cory had never heard the sound of actual gunfire and didn't realize at first what it was. When it finally dawned on him, he sprinted to his car and dove inside, dropping to the floor on the passenger side.

Shit
. Cory reached for his cell phone and punched in Leine's number. The call went directly to voicemail.

“Leine. It's Cory. I'm parked behind Gene's car. I think I just heard gunshots. I-I think they came from inside one of the houses a few doors down on the opposite side of the street. Gene's not in his car. I don't know what to do. Call me as soon as you get this.” Cory ended the call still clutching the phone.

Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he weighed his options.
Should I call the police?
He looked at the card with Jensen's number on it. Leine said to call him only if they'd verified the woman's location. He considered dialing 9-1-1 to report shots fired, but thought better of it. What if it was just some kids lighting off fireworks? What if having the cops come around asking questions put April in more danger? He decided to wait for the neighbors to report it.

The only experience Cory had with guns was through watching cop shows on television. He was smart enough to know the shows didn't reflect real life. The risky heroics shown every week were to grab the audience's attention, not to be viewed as a how-to manual for dangerous situations. Still, it would've been nice to know something he could do. He resolved to check into self-defense classes and maybe even try shooting at a range.

After a few minutes, when he didn't hear anything further, he risked a peek over the dash, through the windshield. No curious neighbors were outside, trying to see what happened. No sirens wailed in the distance. Maybe Cory had been mistaken. Maybe it wasn't gun shots he heard. He slid up onto his front seat to the driver's side. Hesitant at first, he started the car and was about to shift into drive to go back to his corner when a red Honda Civic backed out of a driveway onto the street about a third of the way down the block. The car headed straight toward him. Panicked, Cory couldn't decide if he should crouch down so he wouldn't be seen, or if he should try to get a good look. He decided to look. As the car passed by, Cory caught a glimpse of the driver. It wasn't a woman with strawberry blonde hair. Cory averted his gaze as the man drove by, but not before he made eye contact.

The hair on Cory's head stood on end. A chill spiraled down his back when he realized there was a splotch of what looked like blood on the man's cheek.

***

Leine slid her semi-automatic out from under the seat and turned a slow three-sixty, searching the places a man could hide within shooting range. Two spindly, scrub oak trees surrounded by dry grass grew to her left. Next to them stood a mound of dirt supporting a couple of busted wood pallets and an old couch with an ugly flower pattern missing its cushions. A few older homes slumped in the distance, semi-obscured in the brown smog created by the busy freeway nearby. Large power lines and poles slashed through the scene, breaking the monotony.

Of course, he might not be using a gun. It depended on who Eric decided to send after her. Could be a sniper, although if that were the case she'd be dead by now. She'd been exposed long enough for a clean shot.

She crouched behind her car, next to the back wheel well and scanned her surroundings. A shadow moved near one of the trees. Holding the gun with both hands she pivoted and aimed, waiting. A scrawny black and white cat sprang from the tall grass behind the oak, landing with deadly finality on an unsuspecting prey. The unlucky bird flapped its wings in panic several seconds, then stilled.

Leine did another sweep of the lot. Seeing nothing suspicious she relaxed her grip. She didn't see it coming. The sharp wire snaked around her throat, taking her by surprise. He must have moved while her attention was on the cat.  She dropped the gun and it glanced off the roof of the car, clattering to the ground. She slid two fingers beneath the cool metal before her attacker twisted the cord tighter around her neck, attempting to crush her windpipe. Leine grappled with the chokehold, working to loosen his grip enough so she could take a breath.

Keeping one hand on the wire she let go with the other and rammed her elbow into his solar plexus. He grunted and his grip loosened, but only for a split-second—not long enough for Leine to break free. She jerked her head back and butted him in the face, then stomped on his instep. The garrote fell slack and she slipped free. Pivoting, she slammed the heel of her hand against the bridge of his nose, but he deflected the worst of it with his left hand and punched her hard in the stomach with his right. Leine doubled over in pain and tried to catch her breath when she saw the kick coming.

She dodged right and avoided a broken nose. As his foot overshot its mark, she grabbed it and used his own momentum to lift his leg and force him backward, off his feet.

He landed on his back with a thud. Leine sprinted toward the gun. It had fallen under the car, next to the back tire. Her attacker was on his feet in seconds and lunged for it at the same time. Leine lifted her knee and brought her foot down hard, delivering a sharp blow to his shin. She was rewarded by the sound of bone cracking. To his credit, the man barely grunted. Leine turned back toward the gun, but he wrapped his hand around her ankle and jerked her backwards.

Struggling to remain standing, Leine kicked at his face, but missed. She wrenched her foot free of her shoe and dove for the gun.

Even with a broken leg he was on his feet fast and reached it first. She grabbed the barrel and gave it a vicious twist. The gun came free in her hand and she wrapped her finger around the trigger.

The first shot didn’t lay him out, but the second one did.  Leine backed away from him as he fell to his knees, then crumpled to the ground. The distant wail of sirens galvanized her into action and she was inside her car and leaving the scene in under a minute.

The burn phone beeped, telling her she'd missed a call. She rifled through her purse and found the phone. Leine hit speed dial and listened to Cory's message. She immediately called him back.

“Where are you? Gene's still not back—” Cory described the sounds he heard, confirming for Leine the shots fired. Then he told her about the man in the red Honda.

“Listen to me, Cory. You need to stay right where you are. I'll call Detective Jensen and explain about April being abducted, that we think she's being held in the basement of the house where you saw the red car come out of. When he gets there, show him which house it is and then follow his instructions to the letter. I'll be in touch.”

Leine ended the call and dialed Jensen's number.