want to know?”
Lindahl thought about it, looking more worried than ever. Then he said, “There was a car behind me, for a while, might have been that one. Was that Cal and Cory?”
“Yes.”
“Together then, but just Cory now. Is Cal waiting somewhere else?”
“No.”
Lindahl nodded and looked away. Parker said, “What our problem is, he’s got us boxed in down here. We can’t waste a lot of time on this. If one of those guards has a wife that likes to call him late at night, what happens when she doesn’t get an answer?”
Lindahl stopped worrying about Cal and turned to look up the ramp. “You’re right. If I go up there and push his car with mine . . .”
“His car is in gear with the emergency brake on. You know that’s what he’s going to do. The minute you start your engine, he’ll shoot you.”
“But we have to get out of here.”
“We will. The gate’s unlocked?”
“Yes, but it’s still closed. I was unlocking it when I saw the other car.”
“Turn off the lights down here,” Parker said, “and sit tight.”
He started toward the ramp, but Lindahl said, “Wait.”
“What is it?”
“What if . . .” Lindahl gestured vaguely at the ramp.
“What if Cory comes down, instead of me?”
“Yes.”
Parker nodded at the door to the corridor. “Go that way. You’ve got keys, lock doors behind you.”
“My car.”
“The guards have pistols,” Parker told him. “Get one and do your best. Lights out.”
“Right.”
As Lindahl switched off the lights, he was looking at that inner door.
5
Pistol in his hand, Parker went up the ramp in the darkness, stopping by the closed gate to wait for his eyes to adjust. There was no moon right now, but many high stars that gave the world a slight velvet gray illumination. Beyond the chain-link gate, he could see the bulk of Lindahl’s black SUV and beyond that the gray Jetta. A number of parked track vehicles were an indistinct mass to the left, along the wall beyond the end of the clubhouse. To left and right, the wall curved away into darkness.
Parker knew this area was a large enclosed trapezoid with this end of the clubhouse as its narrow edge, and eight-foot-high wooden walls curving out from it to meet the main wooden wall that surrounded the property. Inside the wall, there was nothing but grass and dirt, except for those vehicles parked to the left. So that’s where Cory would be.
There was no way to be silent when opening the gate. A U-shaped metal bar had to be lifted out of the way. The noise it made was small but sharp; Cory would have heard it.
The gate was built in two sections, hinged at the far sides. Parker pulled open the right side just far enough so he could slip through, then went to the ground in front of the Ford and made his way, prone, leftward past the car, then straight out toward those parked vehicles, crawling forward with the gun out ahead of himself. If he were to move to left or right, there was a chance Cory could see his movements against the white wall or the white end of the clubhouse. As long as he kept that bulk of the two cars and the gate behind him, there’d be nothing to make him a silhouette.
The world was absolutely silent, except for the tiny scuffing sounds he made as he moved across the weedy ground. Then, out ahead, he heard a metallic click, and an instant later a pair of headlights flashed on.
It was some sort of big vehicle, the headlights higher than on a car, pointed at an angle to his right, but with plenty of leftover glare to show him on the ground, midway between the trucks ahead and the gate behind.
Parker shot the nearer headlight, then rolled to his right, closer to the beam, as he heard an answering shot from out in front and the smash of a car window behind him. Prone again, he shot out the second headlight, then rolled back to his left as Cory fired twice more, still shooting too high, the way most people do when they’re firing at something below them.
Cory didn’t waste any more ammunition. Parker got his elbows underneath himself, then pushed up to his feet and ran forward at a crouch. The headlights had spoiled his night vision for a few seconds, but they would have done the same for Cory.
The rear doors of an ambulance. The vehicle with the headlights had been facing outward and was down to the right. Parker moved around the left side of the ambulance, came to the wall beyond it, and stopped. He looked left and right but saw nothing against the wall. He waited and listened.
Silence. Cory was still in here somewhere, in this collection of vehicles. If he was smart, he’d stay in one place and wait for Parker to move, knowing Parker would have to move, he couldn’t still be stuck in here at daybreak.
Cory wouldn’t have been inside the vehicle with the lights but would have reached in through an open side window to switch them on. Probably he’d had to stand on an exterior step of the thing, which was why it had been
