'I'll be right there.'
'Do you need the address?'
'I have it. Give me twenty minutes.'
He opened his lower desk drawer, grabbed his mini-tape recorder, threw it into his briefcase along with an extra notebook. He checked the clock. Ten-fifteen. His dad wasn't scheduled to be released until two. He should have plenty of time.
I won't be back,' he told Naomi. 'Anything important, leave a message.'
She smiled softly at him. 'Good luck, Miles. I hope your father's okay.'
All the way to Santa Monica, he wondered what it was that Marina couldn't tell him over the phone. She'd sounded freaked, as though she'd discovered something she hadn't been prepared for and didn't want to deal with.
Liam Connor lived in an older neighborhood of single family Spanish-style homes with white stucco walls and red tile roofs. The lawns were all neatly mowed and nicely manicured, and the juxtaposition of the elderly residents' boat like Buicks and dusty Pontiacs with their younger neighbors'
well-polished Mercedes Benzes and BMWs made it clear that this was a street on the rise.
Marina and a young man Miles assumed to be her husband walked out as he pulled into the driveway. They'd obviously been waiting for him, and they reached his car before he finished opening the door.
Marina tried to smile. 'thank you for coming out Mr. .... uh, Miles.'
He nodded at her, smiled politely at the man. 'Gordon,' the man said.
'I'm Marina's husband.'
Miles glanced toward the house. 'Is your father here?' he asked.
Marina and her husband shared a glance.
He caught it, and his antennae immediately went up. 'Did something happen to him?'
Marina shook her head. 'No. Nothing like that.'
'What is it, then? What couldn't you tell me over the phone?'
'It'sit's something he did. Something he wrote. We have to show you.'
The two of them started across the lawn toward the house.
Miles followed. 'Is your
'He's in his room,' Gordon said. 'He... he doesn't want to see you.'
They walked inside. The interior of the house was hipper than Miles had expected. Instead of framed family photographs and reproductions of generic landscape paintings in the living room, there was an original abstract expressionist painting on one wall, a grouping of antique western memorabilia on another. The furniture was low and modern, and there was an enormous large-screen TV. The hardwood floor gleamed to perfection.
'I still don't understand why your father won't cooperate with this investigation. You said he felt threatened. He even went to the police. How did he go from that point to
being totally uninterested in finding who is harassing him?'
'I don't understand it either,' Marina admitted. 'But...' she trailed off.
'But what?' he prodded.
'But you have to see what he wrote.' She and Gordon led him into what looked like a den or office: a small cramped room filled with overflowing shelves and boxes piled atop a worktable, everything dominated by a massive old-fashioned rolltop desk.
'It's there,' Gordon said, pointing. '
Miles walked over to the desk. On top of a manual typewriter was what looked like handwritten notes on a yellow legal pad.
'What do you make of it?'
The note was a list of names Liam had obviously drawn up. Miles picked up the pad and quickly scanned the list.
His gaze locked on a name in the middle, his pulse racing. Montgomery Jones. He turned toward Marina and her husband. 'What is this?'
Marina faced him, looking pale. 'that's what we want to know.'
'Did you ask your father about it?' ' 'He won't talk.' She took a deep breath. 'I recognized that one guy's name, the one who was killed, and that's why I called you. Gordon and I thought that there might be some connection between the woman or whoever's stalking Dad and the person who killed that man.'
'Do you think we should go to the police?' Gordon asked.
'Definitely,' Miles said. 'But don't get your hopes up. It can't hurt to let them know, put them on alert, but they probably won't do anything. In the meantime, I'll try to track down the names on this list. Obviously, your father knows of some connection between all these people. He seems to
think he knows why this other man was killed and why he's being stalked--'
'But he won't tell.'
'then, you need to try and get him to tell. He might not be the only one in danger here. These others might be at risk as well.. Tell him that by not cooperating, he may cost some of these people their lives.'
'We'll try,' Gordon promised. 'But he's stubborn.'
Miles looked at the fist again, frowned. He thought Graham had kept all mention of Montgomery Jones' death out of the press. He turned toward Marina. 'You said you saw his name in the paper?'
'No. On TV. Extra.'
Extra? Graham had kept news of the killing out of the legitimate media, but it had made its way onto tabloid television? 'I remembered his name because I couldn't forget the way he died.' She shivered.
'Filled up with ice and drowned? What a horrible way to go.'
'Filled up with ice and drowned? What are you talking about?'
Something suddenly occurred to him. He cocked his head. 'Who are you talking about? Derek Baur.' Derek Baur?
There were two of them.
Miles felt his pulse rate accelerate again. 'Another man on this list, Montgomery Jones, was also killed recently. Torn in half. Up by the Whittier Narrows dam.'
Marina looked at her husband, all of the color draining from her face.
'I don't know what's happening or what this is all about, but I suggest you get your father out here so we can try to talk some sense into him.'
She nodded and hurried off down the hall.
'Can I take this to photocopy?' Miles asked Gordon. 'I'll give it back to you.'
'Take it and keep it'
'You'll need it to show the police.'
Gordon nodded. 'Yeah,' he said. 'Okay.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'Jesus.'
'We'll get to the bottom of this,' Miles promised. Gordon looked as though he was about to say something, but at that moment Marina pulled Liam into the room. She faced Miles. 'Tell him!' she demanded, pointing at her father. 'He won't listen to me. Maybe he'll listen to you.'
'Two of the men on this list are dead,' Miles said. 'One, Montgomery Jones, was torn in half over in Whittier. I saw the body. I was there. The other than, Derek Baur
In Michigan, and than he was somehow filled with ice and drowned. If you know anything about either of these deaths, you'd better speak up because you and the other people on that list may be in danger, too.'
Liam shook his head.
'Damn it, Dad!'
'Well, you obviously know of something that all of these people have in common. There's some reason you put them on this list. If you could just tell. us--'
'No.'
He was surprised by the vehemence of the old man's response. It was impossible, he knew, and it made no
