Holstering his gun, the killer stepped to the curb. The car slowed, and then stopped beneath the street light.
The driver’s window rolled down, and a man’s face appeared.
Caitlin’s breath caught in her throat.
It was Mark Romax.
The detective.
The goddamn detective!
CHAPTER 5
Caitlin froze against the protective shroud of the bush while her attacker approached the car.
“Any luck, Holdren?”
Holdren leaned against the driver’s door and shook his head. “No. She disappeared into the damn undergrowth. There’s not much chance of locating her in this fog.”
“That your work down the street?”
“Yeah, get a crew over to clean up the mess.”
“What were you doing in a cab? Didn’t you have a car?”
“Yeah, I had a car, but when I found out she’d left the hotel on foot, I got the idea that she might hail a cab. There wasn’t time to order one up, so I grabbed the first one available.”
“Jeez, did you have to pop him?”
“He was a witness.”
“That’s not much of a reason. We could have leaned on him, and he wouldn’t have talked.”
“I know, but he got smart, tried to stop me with some pissant little gun. I didn’t have time to reason with him.”
“Well, it’s your butt if Cronski doesn’t like the excuse. We’re not supposed to be doing wet work here. This was supposed to be a quick snatch.”
Holdren’s voice tightened, and his posture stiffened. “Yeah? Why don’t you tell me about it, Romax? I was cleaning up messes for assholes like Cronski when you were still in diapers. Nobody ever complains about the body count if the mission is successful.”
“Look, Holdren, I don’t care what things were like in the good old days of the cold war. Times have changed; you can’t leave bodies lying about, especially in domestic operations. If you can’t adapt, then maybe it’s time for you to retire.”
Holdren leaned down placing his nose nearly in contact with Romax’s. His voice came out slow and so low that Caitlin could barely make out his words. “Anytime one of you young punks think you can retire me, you’re welcome to try.”
Romax paled, and his head moved back, away from the confrontation. He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Jesus Christ, Holdren, we don’t retire people that way.”
“Yeah, maybe not now, but don’t you ever forget that I’ve been around a lot longer than you. I’ve done things that would make you piss your pants. Anytime you want I’ll be happy to enlighten you.”
Romax shook his head again. “Ah, no, thanks anyway. Look, I’m sorry. I was just trying to follow Cronski’s orders.”
Holdren grinned and straightened, obviously enjoying playing with his partner. “I’ll handle Cronski. You just get a cleanup crew in here. Then get some patrol cars around the park’s perimeter. She’ll try to contact the police again, and we might get lucky if she sees a patrol car.”
“Yeah, I can see that happening. What are you going to do?”
“Take me back to my room. I have night goggles there. I think I’ll do a little hunting,” Holdren said.
“Jeez. You know, I think you enjoy this too much,” Romax said.
“Hey, the job has to have some perks. You can ask for a reassignment to a desk job any time you want.”
Holdren walked around to the passenger side of Romax’s car and got in.
Caitlin watched the killer get into the passenger side of the car. It pulled away from the curb and headed back up the hill toward the Pacific Rim.
She waited until the sound of the engine had vanished into the fog, then stepped out from the bush and hesitated, torn between the trail and the street. She had to get out of the park before Holdren came back. In a few minutes, there could be patrol cars wandering the park looking for her. She had to move fast.
Caitlin turned toward the street, her soles made slapping sounds as she ran. She reached the sidewalk and looked downhill. Nothing, just a glow in the fog from the nearest street light.
Fearful that their conversation may have been a ruse for her benefit, Caitlin listened for an approaching engine as she ran.
She almost ran into the taxi’s bumper. Its lights were off, and the doors were shut.
Caitlin stepped off the curb and went to the driver’s door. She opened it. The body lay slumped down on the front seat.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed the body over enough to allow her to slide behind the wheel. The keys were in the ignition. She cranked the engine and turned on the lights.
Bitter bile rose in her throat as her stomach convulsed. The windshield and steering wheel were splattered with blood, pieces of skin and hair, and little bits of gray matter.
She forced down the bile and took a small box of tissues from her purse. There wasn’t enough tissue in the box to clean everything. Caitlin swabbed the steering wheel and then carefully cleaned enough of the windshield to see through.
She tossed the tissue aside, put the transmission in gear, and accelerated down the hill.
A few minutes later, she reached the park gate and stopped at the intersection with highway 101. Somewhere to her left, invisible in the fog, rose the massive bridge, to her right lay San Francisco. Which way? Away from town and the police she no longer trusted or into the city where she could lose herself among the masses. Neither way offered much.
Still, there was someone, someone she thought she could trust. If she could find him. She turned right.
CHAPTER 6
Romax drove the heavy Buick carefully through the fog. Neither of the men spoke until they were nearly back to the Pacific Rim.
Holdren said, “While I’m retrieving the receiver, I want you to call in
