Beholden (17 page)

“Yes, sir. I understand.” Phil understood that there wasn’t a hell of a lot either of them could do at the moment to change
things.

“What about that cop who was killed in the alley? Foster. Anything new on that?”

Phil picked up a phone message he’d received earlier. He needed to get the heat off himself, to protect his future. A smoke
screen might just work. “I’m not sure if this is anything, Captain, but Foster’s ex-partner, Officer Neil Manning, called
me this morning. He’s coming in tomorrow to discuss something important, something he needs to talk about in person. It could
relate to Foster’s death. The two shared an apartment.”

“I hope to hell it does. Call me after you talk with him.” “Right. Anything else?”

Marino checked the clock. Thank God it was time for another pain pill. “That’s it. Keep in touch.” He hung up the phone and
reached for his pill bottle.

Remington glanced thoughtfully at the newspaper cartoon on the corner of his desk and then studied the message from Officer
Manning. He picked up the phone and dialed a private number. Turning his back to the room, he listened to the ringing until
a man answered.

“That matter I talked to you about… I’m going to need some help.”

“Right,” the voice answered, then hung up.

She needed some personal things from the drugstore, things she felt uncomfortable having Luke pick up for her. Tampons, moisturizing
cream, deodorant, and a prescription for birth control pills the visiting doctor had written for her. It was time to get her
system back on track. Maybe going shopping was just an excuse to get out of the house after being indoors for two days, Terry
thought. Of course, he had to drive her. The only time she was ever alone was in her bedroom, door still ajar, and in the
bath. It was wearing.

Still, as Luke pulled the van into a curbside space, she had to admit that the thought of driving into town without his protection
frightened her. She watched his hooded gaze check out each passing car, each strolling pedestrian, as he helped her down.
Walking into the corner pharmacy, he stayed close behind her.

The small store was in the midst of renovation, apparently expanding to include the adjacent space recently vacated. No workers
were on the scene on this Saturday afternoon, a floor-to-ceiling tarpaulin hanging along the left section to partition off
the area. The place wasn’t crowded, only a toddler and his mother examining the Christmas wrappings and an elderly man picking
up a prescription at the back counter.
Terry moved down the deserted aisles, quickly gathering her few purchases. Would she ever get over this uneasy feeling of
pending danger?

“Stay with mommy, Brian,” the mother admonished the little boy as she picked up a huge bag of colorful bows. Ignoring his
mother, the boy sauntered past her.

Terry reached for a Chapstick and added it to her pile. Her lips were so dry in this cool weather. She nearly bumped into
Luke as she turned around.

They were at the counter paying for her purchases when the lights flickered and they heard a small popping sound. It was followed
by a woman’s scream.

“Oh, my God!” the young mother yelled. “Brian, what did you do?” She stared at the still form of her child on the floor by
the raised tarpaulin. “Help, someone, please! My son! He’s not moving!” She dropped to her knees. “Oh, God! He’s not breathing!”

Luke’s first thought was that someone might be setting up a diversion in order to get to Terry. He grabbed her arm, urging
her toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

The middle-aged clerk who’d been ringing up Terry’s items ran around the counter and over to the woman. “What happened?”

The druggist had also left his post and was looking down at the boy, a worried frown on his face. “Did he touch something
behind the tarp? Didn’t you see the sign? That area’s off-limits.”

“I don’t know.” The mother was frantic. “Oh, God, my baby’s not breathing. Someone, please help!”

Terry stopped in her tracks, preventing Luke from dragging her out. “We can’t leave. He’s only a child. This isn’t a trick,”
she pleaded, guessing what he was thinking. “Please, Luke, we have to help that little boy.”

Luke paused. Maybe she was right. No one else was in the store. He went over to the boy, still holding on to Terry.
“Stay right here where I can see you,” he told her as he knelt down.

By the tarp, he noticed a receptacle hanging out of the wall without a coverplate. By the look of the boy’s burned hand, he
guessed that the kid—curious as all kids were—had touched the circuit breaker which had sent electrical impulses throughout
his little body. An adult might have only received a mild shock, but the small boy had been knocked unconscious.

Quickly assessing the situation, Luke glanced at the child’s mother, her face pinched and anxious. “It looks like electrical
shock.” He looked up at the druggist who seemed stunned and immobile. “Phone 911.”

Luke’s tone was that of someone used to being obeyed. The druggist came out of his trance, nodded, and hurried to the phone
as the others moved aside. The boy couldn’t be more than four, he decided, and he was very white and lying very still. Pressing
his ear to the child’s chest, he listened, then applied two fingers to the pulse in his neck and found it fluttering. He was
fibrillating, his heartbeat out of sync.

Luke thumped the small chest and got no response. He tilted the boy’s head up and made sure his mouth was clear, then began
CPR. Glancing up to make sure no one else had entered and that he could see Terry, he breathed into the boy’s mouth, then
placed his crossed hands on the small chest, counting softly. “One, two, three, four, five.”

Working smoothly, calmly, he repeated the process while the mother held a trembling hand to her mouth and prayed, tears flowing
from her eyes. Terry was praying, too. The child was so small, so still.

Seconds later, the siren of the EMS could be heard coming closer. Just then, the boy cried out and coughed, raising his head,
squirming to sit up. Luke let out a relieved breath. In a move that was natural and unplanned, he cradled the child against
his chest.

“Brian, Brian,” his mother wailed.

The boy was crying loudly now, obviously frightened. Luke handed him over to his mother, who hugged the boy to her as if she’d
never let go.

“Thank God,” the druggist muttered. His concern over a possible lawsuit had him pocketing the pliers and rearranging the tarp
as the EMS crew came rushing through the door.

“Come on,” Luke said, hurriedly shepherding Terry outside and toward the van.

“Wait,” Brian’s mother called after them. “I need to thank him,” she explained to the clerk who looked after the departing
couple.

“We didn’t pay for my things,” Terry said, holding up the bag of merchandise.

Luke rushed her into the van and jumped behind the wheel. “I’m not going to worry about ten dollars worth of stuff right now.
I don’t want to have to answer a lot of questions.” Seeing a break in traffic, he pulled out and left the scene.

Terry strapped herself in and leaned back, forcing herself to relax. “It was touch-and-go there for a while. You were really
great with the boy.”

Luke was uncomfortable with praise, especially for doing something he’d have walked away from if she hadn’t insisted they
stay. “Don’t make a big thing of it. Anyone who knows CPR could have done what I did.”

“But I don’t know CPR and apparently no one else in the store did, either, or they’d have tried. You saved his life.”

“The EMS guys would have saved him, too.”

“Maybe.” She studied his profile, but he was concentrating on his driving. “Can’t you accept a compliment?”

Luke scowled. “All right. I was friggin’ wonderful.”

“You thought for a moment there that the whole thing was a setup, didn’t you?”

“It could have been.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “What do you say we go for a drive?” Without waiting
for an answer, Luke maneuvered the van toward the hilly coastal road going south.

Driving aimlessly was a tension reliever. The late afternoon was still sunny, the temperature not quite fifty degrees. In
the passenger seat, Terry was gazing out the side window, seemingly as glad to be out of the house as he. The traffic was
light on this balmy holiday weekend.

Luke thought that she seemed contemplative and subdued after the excitement in the drugstore. She was wearing jeans, her navy
jacket, and a floppy hat she’d picked up earlier and plopped on over her wig. With huge sunglasses covering half of her face,
he decided that her own mother probably wouldn’t recognize her. However, it wouldn’t do to underestimate the Russo brothers
and their men. “We should have come earlier and brought the makings of a picnic,” he said, squinting up toward a wooded section
off to the left.

“Turkey sandwiches. I wish I’d thought to pack some.” Her feelings had shifted again as she’d watched Luke with the boy. He’d
been so gentle, yet very much in control. Then he wouldn’t take credit or accept praise. A paradox of a man.

She cracked the window, breathing in the sea air. “This Big Sur area is so beautiful. Isn’t the Hearst mansion along here
somewhere?”

“San Simeon and no, it’s farther south.”

“I’d love to visit it sometime. I’ll bet it’s fabulous.” Checking out the black rocks covered with green moss clinging to
the cliffside where the tidewater tumbled in, Terry was fascinated. “Imagine being able to enjoy this view every day from
one of those huge houses way up there.”

“You think you’d like to live on the ocean?”

“Sure. However, with the cost of California seaside real estate, I don’t think I have much chance of that.”

Luke’s eyes scanned the traffic, front and back, a sudden instinct warning him that something wasn’t right. He knew better
than to ignore his instincts. He kept his hands steady on the wheel, not wanting to prematurely upset Terry. “Who
knows? You might get syndicated on your next job and become world famous.” He glanced over at her. “I’ll be able to say I
knew you when.”

“I’ll be happy just to get a job again.” They rode along in silence for a while, then she felt the van swerve as Luke changed
lanes abruptly. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Luke’s eyes shifted from the rearview mirror to the windshield, studying each vehicle.

Tensing, Terry turned to look behind them, but the shaded windows kept her from seeing clearly. “What is it?” she asked, fighting
a rising panic.

He watched the dark blue sedan he’d noticed minutes ago switch into their lane, staying two lengths behind them. “Probably
nothing,” he said in as calm a voice as possible.

Terry leaned closer to peer at the outside mirror on her side. It took her only a moment to spot it. “Oh, my God!”

Luke shot her a quick glance. “Does that look like the car you saw in the garage?”

“Not exactly. But they could have switched cars. Who else would be following us?”

Luke slowed the van gradually, hoping the dark blue car would pass them. “We don’t know yet if that car is really following
us. His lane changes could be coincidental.”

Terry felt anxious sweat pop out on her face. She gripped her hands together to still their shaking. “Oh, come on. You don’t
believe in coincidence any more than I do.”

The car behind also slowed. No, he didn’t believe in coincidence. His eyes darting back and forth, he spoke to Terry. “I want
you to unbuckle your seat belt, move behind me, and crouch down on the floor.”

“Oh, God, you
do
think it’s them!” Her voice was high-pitched with the beginning of hysteria.

“Terry! Get a grip. We don’t know anything for sure, but I don’t want to take any chances. Do as I say.” He knew how frightened
she was, but he couldn’t take the time to reassure her just now.

She fumbled with the seat belt, finally unlocked it. Glancing out the window nervously, she got out of her seat and moved
behind, lying flat on the floor. Gripping the driver’s seat, she closed her eyes and prayed.

With Terry out of the line of fire, Luke concentrated on his driving, speeding up again. In moments, the blue sedan
picked up speed. He searched his memory, trying to recall the last time he’d driven this route and if he’d seen a road leading
off the highway. It wasn’t his nature or his training to run or to be a sitting duck. He believed that the best defense was
an offense. He wasn’t confrontational by design, only of necessity. But there were times when that was the best approach.
Still, there was no point in being hasty.

Again, he changed lanes and cruised along, waiting and watching. Sure enough, the sedan followed.

“Are… are they still behind us?” Terry asked, hating the weak sound of her voice.

“Yes.” The road ahead opened up and Luke saw what he’d been seeking. A narrow two-lane path led off to the left, winding upward
into the wooded hillside. A smattering of homes was barely visible through the trees. He’d have to time it just right. Bracing
himself for a quick turn, Luke eyed the oncoming traffic.