“Rusty? Oh, for Christ’s sake-wait a minute. Describe Kit Logan.”
“You’ve met him.”
“Years ago. What’s he look like now?”
“Good-looking kid. In his twenties, but I guess you know that. About six three, dark hair, light eyes.”
“I think I saw him last night-I asked Chase about him. He talked to Chase in the alley, gave him food for Rusty. He was at the crime scene in Del Aire, John. How do you think he got word of that?”
“The scanner?” John said, but he looked uneasy.
“Maybe.”
John’s brow suddenly cleared. “Wait a minute. He told me he’s been trying to find someone in the department he could trust. He said he watched you at a press conference and was the one who tipped you off about Whitfield. Said he left little good-luck pieces for you-or, not exactly that, but some kind of Mexican prayer objects. I forget what he called them.”
“Milagros?”
“That’s it!”
Alex stood and paced. Rusty tried to follow, then abandoned that effort to sit at John’s side.
“You know that it’s typical for killers to be among the onlookers at a crime scene.”
“Yes. But I know Moriarty, Alex, and he would never-not in a million years-team up with someone like that. And no matter what you think about Logan, you have to be worried about this kid-she’s just thirteen, for God’s sake.”
“Are you sure there is a little girl?”
“What do you mean?”
“He suspects a kidnapping, but he hasn’t called the sheriff’s station in Malibu?”
“I told you! He’s not only housing a fugitive, he thinks there may be someone in the department who’s involved in this.”
The phone rang.
“Brandon,” Alex answered.
“Alex?”
It was a voice he hadn’t heard in years. “Hello, Clarissa.”
John, who had been petting Rusty, looked up at that.
“Alex,” she said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’d like to talk to Chase, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all, but he’s not here.”
“Not there!”
“No. Didn’t your current husband tell you? He picked Chase up this morning.”
If she heard the word current, she ignored it. “I know-I know-but listen, Alex. I’m worried. One of the staff tells me Chase left here hours ago on his bicycle-late this morning.”
“Maybe his old man took another swipe at him, like the one he gave him this morning. Ask the staff.”
There was a silence, then she said, “I was so sure he’d go to your place. If not to see you or John, at least to be with the dog.”
“Hang on.” He put a hand over the receiver and said to John, “You hear from Chase this afternoon?”
“No. What’s going on?”
He told him what Clarissa had said.
John motioned for the phone. Alex wasn’t sorry to hand it over.
“Clarissa?” John said. “Now, don’t worry. He probably just got mad and went off to pout somewhere. You know how those Brandon men are. Did you try his cell phone?”
Alex watched John’s eyes narrow. John covered the phone, swore fluently, then drew a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was remarkably calm. “Tell you what-get the cell phone from Miles and use the call-back feature to reach that kid who called Chase. Chase is probably just with his friends. Meanwhile, we’ll keep an eye out for him. What kind of bike was he riding?…If he doesn’t show up soon, we’ll go looking for him, okay? Let me know what you find out.”
He hung up.
“Chase decided to run away from home?”
“Hard to tell. Miles took his cell phone from him, but I don’t think that’s what made him take off. Miles gave him some bullshit about Rusty, saying he’d tell us to take the dog to the pound.”
They both looked down at the dog, happily panting up at them.
“No way,” Alex said. “And what the hell makes Miles think I’d let him tell me what to do with my-with Chase’s dog?”
“Damn straight,” John said, for a brief instant looking suspiciously as if he might be amused. “But Chase doesn’t know that, does he?”
“I guess not.” He shook his head. “You say Kit Logan went back home to Malibu?”
“He left the address for you. When you get to the gates, say ‘the frumious Bandersnatch!’”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Jabberwocky…”
“You are a weird old son of a bitch, you know that? And I think this Logan kid is just about as weird as you are. Why couldn’t he wait here for me?”
“When that ninth fugitive got shot right through the eye in front of God, the FBI, and the L.A. Times-the last two believing they are the same as the first-Mr. Logan wisely considered the possibility that number ten on that list might be a little freaked out by events and might even need convincing that he could be safely delivered to the L.A. Sheriff’s Department. Alex Brandon or no Alex Brandon. Promise me you won’t make a liar out of me-I told him he could trust you to hear him out. That’s all he’s asking.”
“Fine, I promise to hear him out, but-”
The phone rang again. John answered this time. “Clarissa? Oh-sorry, Ciara. Yes, he’s here.”
Alex took the phone. “Hi, Ciara. I was just about to call you. Want to take a ride with me to Malibu?”
49
Malibu, California
Thursday, May 22, 7:20 P.M.
“I can’t believe this,” Ciara said.
“Sorry, miss,” the guard at the gate said.
“Tell Mr. Logan he either lets us both in, or he’ll have to meet me out here,” Alex said.
The guard relayed the information. After a few moments, he said, “When I open the gate, just follow the drive up to the house.”
As they entered the gates, Ciara said, “Was your family’s place like this one?”
“No, this one is higher up and has more acreage.”
“It’s pretty up here.”
He looked out. The sun was just above the horizon, about an hour away from setting. The view from the Logan property was spectacular.
“If you lived up here, would you run away from home?” Ciara asked.
He looked over at her. “Are you asking about Chase?”
“No-no, sorry. I meant Serenity Logan.”
“When I had her case, I wondered the same thing. From all I could learn, though, it was a mixture of rebellion and addiction. Elizabeth Logan was more patient than most parents would have been-maybe too patient. She felt a lot of guilt about not taking her grandson away from her daughter earlier on.”
“Guilt,” Ciara said, “is just one more useless luxury.”
He could see the tension on her face. “I had no business asking you to come with me,” he said. “You’ve had a worse day than I’ve had.”
