My ear was flat against the back of her thigh, and I could hear the hum of her voice through her flesh. 'I missed you,' she said.
I soaked in the warmth of her skin. I said, 'I feel like I found you again.'
Chapter 49
Burned adrenaline kept me up almost to daylight, before my vigilance finally gave out beneath the weight of so many sleepless nights. I slumbered--dreamless, solid, untroubled--as I hadn't since my teenage years. When I awakened, the revolver was missing from the nightstand, but I heard Ariana's familiar footsteps moving around in the kitchen. By the time I finally hauled myself out of bed, popped four Advil, and slumped downstairs, it was nearly two o'clock.
The gun and jammer resting beside her, she sat cross-legged on the family-room carpet, facing away, scrutinizing a mound of shredded paper she'd dumped from the bag I'd stolen from Ridgeline. No scrap was bigger than a thumbnail. As I neared, I saw that she'd made a few preliminary piles, organized by color. Her biggest collection, with maybe ten pieces, was dwarfed by the unsorted heap, but she seemed characteristically undaunted.
'We're pretty much fucked on white,' she said as I walked up behind her. 'There seems to be slightly less gray. Sparse pink, but I think it's a take-out menu. And a few of these harder ones. Weird.' She held a white-silver square over her head, and I took it, bent it between thumb and forefinger. It bowed, regained its shape.
'Magazine cover?' I ventured.
'No writing on the few I've found.' She leaned back into my legs and looked up at me. A mariposa tucked behind her ear.
Lavender.
'You haven't--' I stopped.
She raised a hand self-consciously to the flower. 'You noticed? That I'd stopped wearing this color?'
'Of course.'
She didn't smile, but she looked pleased. She went back to sorting through the mound of scraps.
'Is there any hope of piecing something together out of all that?' I asked.
'Probably not. But it's one of two leads you took from there. They pulled out all the stops to get that missing CD--maybe something here'll lead us to it. Are you going back to Starbright Plaza? To ask about the lease or whatever?'
'I'm not leaving you. You just died.'
'Patrick, we're not gonna get out of this if we hole up here. What are we gonna do? Hold each other until Robbery-Homicide kicks down the door?'
I didn't want to confess that after the grueling past twenty-four hours, that was pretty much my plan. The notion of being apart from her right now was excruciating. 'There's no point in my going to Starbright Plaza,' I said. 'We both know how that'll end up. They'll have covered all their bases. If I try to get the cops to check it out, I'll only wind up looking more delusional. Besides, I already took anything useful out of there.' I glanced at the hard drive, still on the counter. 'Which reminds me, I need to call around and see which shops have that model of Sharp copier.'
'There are two at the Kinko's down the hill,' she said. 'The one on Ventura. You might be familiar with it.'
I stared at her, slack-jawed. 'You are a whirlwind of competence.'
'Yeah, well, I didn't have to sleep off a stun grenade like some people.' The phone rang. 'That'd be Julianne. She's been calling all day.'
'Why didn't you wake me?'
'I tried. But like I said, you were inanimate.'
I grabbed the phone.
'Hey.' Julianne's voice was rushed, intense. 'I need to get those papers you're handing off to the professor taking over your classes. It's urgent.'
I started to respond, then caught myself. She already knew that I'd handed those papers over to the department chair on the day before yesterday. So what was she signaling to me?
'Okay,' I said carefully. 'I would drop them off now, but I--'
'I'm afraid that wouldn't work anyway. I have to go to Marcello's nephew's birthday party in Coldwater Canyon Park at three.'
Marcello was an only child. No nephew, no party. Julianne was trying to set a meeting with me?
'Okay,' she said. 'I'll call you tomorrow, and we'll pick a time then.'
Before I could figure out how to tell Julianne that I didn't want to leave the house, she clicked off.
Ariana asked, 'What's up?'
'She wants me to meet her at Coldwater Canyon Park.' I checked my watch. 'Right now. She's been looking into the Ridgeline-sonar connection for me.'
'So you're going?'
I hedged.
'Patrick'--the stern tone now--'I know you don't want to leave, and I can't stand the thought of being away from you either right now, but if we're gonna have a shot at saving ourselves, we've got to go on the offensive. We have too much to handle right now. We need to split up and get it done.' A nod to the mound of scraps. 'I've got plenty of work ahead of me. Sorting this. Hiring you a lawyer. I'll stay here. I have the burglar alarm. And this.' She patted the revolver.
'I thought you didn't know how to shoot a gun.'
She took in my battered face. 'I'll learn.'
Hearing her say it gutted me.
I said, 'They have guns, too, which they already know how to use. Plus, they know how to bypass the alarm system.'
'Right. But they can't bypass this.' She beckoned me into the living room and threw open the curtains. The paparazzi and reporters at the curb stumbled into motion. She waved at the flurry of lenses, then tugged the curtains shut. 'Now. What's the deal with Julianne?'
'Sounds like she has something,' I admitted.
'What are you hoping for?'
'Something undeniable. If I can get my hands on concrete evidence, I bet I can get Sally Richards back into it with me.'
'She told you pretty clearly she's done.'
'But there's no condition,' I quoted, 'more motivating to her than curiosity.'
'Pot, I'd like you to meet kettle.'
'I just need to give her a good enough excuse.'
'Your car's still at Keith Conner's, right? You need to take the pickup?' Her expression was fierce, uncompromising.
She was right. We had to attack this on two fronts.
I took a deep breath. 'I can't take the pickup,' I said. 'The paparazzi will be all over me the minute I leave the driveway. I need to drive something more . . . anonymous.'
'So borrow my license plates.'
'And do what? Screw them onto the stolen BMW?' I laughed, then saw she was serious. 'I'm sure the lawyer we haven't hired will be thrilled.'
She pointed. 'Now, go.'
I pocketed the copier's hard drive, headed to the garage, and unscrewed her license plates. Then I came back in, took two of the new prepaid cell phones, and programmed each number into the other so she and I would have a way to talk on a secure line. Hers I left on the counter. Taking a deep breath, I walked over, kissed the top of her head, and started for the rear door.
Without looking up from her sorting, she said, 'They're back there, too. The stalkerazzi. Surround-sound protection.'
'Can you create a diversion out front? Get them running to you?'
'Okay,' she said. 'I'll flash them. It'll bring back my sorority days.'
