He raised his hands. “I’m LAPD Detective Jake McAllister. Are you all right?”
A sudden gust of wind carried her sigh down the trail toward him.
“I—it’s Kyra Chase. I’m sorry. I’m putting away my weapon.”
Lowering his hands, he said, “Is it okay for me to move now?”
“Of course. I didn’t realize, I thought you were...”
“The killer coming back to his dump site?” He flicked on the flashlight in his hand and continued down the trail, his shoes scuffing over dirt and pebbles. “He wouldn’t do that—at least not so soon after the kill.”
When he got within two feet of her, he skimmed the beam over her body, her dark clothing swallowing up the light until it reached her blond hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but what are you doing here?”
“Probably the same thing you are.” She hung on to the strap of her purse, her hand inches from the gun pocket.
“I’m the lead detective on the case, and I’m doing some follow-up investigation.”
“Believe it or not, Detective, I have my own prep work that I like to do before meeting a victim’s family. I want to have as much information as possible when talking to them. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“Sure, I can. Call me Jake.” He pointed to her bag. “What kind of piece do you have?”
“M&P 22 Compact.” She clutched the bag with one hand as if she expected him to go for it.
“A Smith & Wesson—nice weapon.”
“And before you ask, I do have a permit for it.” Her chin jutted forward. “Do you want to see it?”
He raised his eyebrows, even though he’d been planning to ask her about the permit—just to mess with her. “The gun or the permit?”
“Either. Both.” She widened her stance.
“I’m good. I’ve seen the M&P 22 before, and I trust you...about that permit.”
“I think I’ve seen enough.” She took a step in his direction and stuttered to a stop, her ponytail swinging over her shoulder, when he didn’t make a move.
“Really? You’ve seen enough? Where’s your flashlight?”
She dipped her hand into the pocket of her hoodie and held up her cell phone. “Phones have flashlights now. They even take pictures.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Did you discover anything we missed?”
“That’s not why I was here.” She sniffed. “I have to get going. The Santa Ana winds are kicking up, and my allergies are already giving me trouble.”
He stepped aside, and as she walked past him he joined her, matching her stride.
She whipped her head around without slowing her pace. “Where are you going? You just got here.”
“I’m going to walk you back to your car because it’s dangerous out in the middle of Griffith Park after dark.” He pulled up next to her on the narrow trail, bumping her shoulder.
“You forgot I have a loaded pistol as my companion.” She patted her purse.
His arm shot out. He grabbed her bag and yanked it quickly to the side. Not only could she not reach her gun, he had the strap of her purse around her neck.
She sputtered, knocking his arm with the heel of her hand. Not a bad response, but her blow made no impact on the grip he had on her purse.
“Just sayin’.” He released the bag, and the heavy gun banged against her hip.
“And I’m just sayin’ you’re an ass.” She repositioned her purse, kept her hand over the gun pouch and quickened her pace.
“Having a weapon is better than not having one, but don’t let it give you a false sense of security. Just because you’re packing heat doesn’t mean you can waltz into any situation you please. Have a little common sense.”
He followed her stiff back and swinging ponytail back to the road. It was clear she thought he’d been trying to get under her skin, but her appearance here on her own truly alarmed him. He wasn’t going to allow Kyra Chase or any other woman to walk back to her car alone under these circumstances. He didn’t mind ruffling her feathers.
She hit her remote and her lights flashed once. “This is me. Thanks for the escort, Officer.”
His lips twisted into smile. “My pleasure, and thanks for not shooting me back there. I’ve got your number.”
She stopped, her hand on the car door. “What?”
“Your phone number. I got it from Carlos... Captain Castillo. I’ll text you the time for our meeting at the coroner’s office downtown.”
“Right. See you tomorrow.” She slammed her car door, cranked on her engine and made a dusty U-turn in the road.
Jake stared after the red taillights until his eyes watered. What the hell had Kyra Chase been doing out here? And who the hell had she been talking to in the darkness?
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Jake parked his sedan in the parking structure of the USC Medical Center downtown. The old building that housed the coroner’s office for the county was attached to the med center. He slid from the car and reached into the back seat for his suit jacket. He’d wait for the comfort of the building’s AC before putting it on. The summer in LA had been mild, but September had brought the heat, and the Santa Anas were gusting in the canyons.
He pulled some lip balm from his pocket and swiped it across his dry lips. It couldn’t help his dry throat though. Damn, he hated these IDs with the parents. Having Kyra Chase with him might help though he didn’t have to like her involvement in any other aspect of the case.
She’d been there that day—the day he’d gone off on Lizbeth Kruger at the station. The day he’d been reprimanded for his behavior. He didn’t give a damn—then or now. He’d do it all over again. Even though it hadn’t solved anything, hadn’t brought back Jacinda, giving Lizbeth a piece of his mind had assuaged his fury. Or at least for that day. His rage had become a living thing inside him, something to tame
