Dead Spots

I picked a direction and stayed with it until I hit a major street. At a stoplight, I closed my eyes and conjured up my mental map of Los Angeles. I found the freeway and took the east exit toward Pasadena.

Then I called Jesse.

Chapter 31

After about four seconds, Jesse had realized that it wasn’t as simple as storming over to Sanderson’s bait shop and arresting him. First, he didn’t even know whether Sanderson—Hess, he corrected—actually had Scarlett or whether he’d be in a position to kill her if Jesse sent in the cavalry. He’d already asked a police cruiser that had been in the area to drive past the bait shop, and they’d reported that the lights were all out and there were no parked cars in the lot or on the street in front of the building. It was likely that Hess was working from somewhere else, anyway. Jesse knew he had to slow down and think it through, that this was the moment when cops who were emotionally invested made serious mistakes, but he couldn’t help the panic.

Think like a cop, he told himself. Even if he did get Hess, what then? Jesse didn’t have a speck of evidence linking him to the La Brea Park case. If he really did have Scarlett, then Jesse might be able to get him on kidnapping charges, but that was assuming he could find them. He needed to bring the bad guy to the cops, and he needed Dashiell to know they had the right man in custody.

At eleven, he got sick of waiting and hopped in his car, heading toward the bait shop. On the way, he stopped at an all-night drugstore and bought a new car charger for the cell phone. When the phone booted up, he looked for messages, but there was nothing. He called Scarlett’s phone again, but it was still turned off.

The cruiser had been right about the cars—not only was the strip mall’s small lot empty, but the street on either side of it as well. Jesse parked in front of the bait shop—screw subtlety—and went right up and knocked on the door. He cupped his hands around his eyes to peer into the shop. Darkness. In the red glow of the emergency exit light, he could barely make out the different stands of merchandise, but that was about it. No lights under closed doors, no signs of life at all. Jesse thought back to his and Scarlett’s visit to the shop. There had been only one back door, which led through the fireproof door to the little hallway. The office had been the only other door on the hallway, and then it had led straight to an exit. Jesse got into his car and circled around the building. He found the emergency exit door and checked for lights underneath. Nothing.

Jesse had just gotten back into his car when the phone rang, still plugged into the car charger. He grabbed too fast, fumbled it, and had to rescue it from the floor of the car.

“Cruz,” he barked, breathless.

“Jesse, it’s me.”

He sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God. Where the hell have you been? Listen, I know who did it. Jared Hess became—”

“Aaron Sanderson, I know.” Scarlett filled him in on the kidnapping, including her rescue and Jared Hess’s plans for Beatrice.

“You’re okay, though? Is Eli going to be okay?” Although they both seemed to like the same girl, Jesse didn’t want to wish the guy any actual harm. Even with the whole I can’t involve you bit.

“I am, and he will be.”

“I can have the cops at Dashiell’s in five minutes,” he said.

“No! The police can’t handle this, Jesse. You should know that by now. Even if we could get Jared Hess out of there, we can never take him to the cops to talk about the Old World. Most of them will think he’s crazy, but a few will start to wonder.”

He gestured helplessly with his free hand. “But we can’t just—”

“Come on. You know Dash will never let that happen.”

Just like that, Jesse saw his dreams of arresting the La Brea Park killer vanish. He rubbed his head, frustrated beyond words. The murders couldn’t go unsolved. It would just terrify everyone—

“Jesse!” Scarlett yelled. “Are you listening?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I need you to meet me in Pasadena. Tell me you’re somewhere close, please.”

Jesse looked up at the bait shop. It was fifteen minutes on the freeway, tops. Less with the siren. “I’m a little closer than usual.”

“Good. Bring your gun. We’ve got to go get Corry.”

“Who’s Corry?”

“The other null.” Her voice grew agitated. “Hess took her, Jesse. She’s only fifteen.”

Pieces fell into place in his mind. “This is why you didn’t want to tell me about her?”

“Yes.”

“You could have trusted me, you know.” She said nothing, and he put it aside for the moment. “Where should I meet you?”

“Dashiell’s.”

Jesse sort of remembered how to get there, but he still scribbled down the directions. The second he hung up, he threw the car into drive and put the siren in the window.

Chapter 32

I picked up Jesse at the bottom of Dashiell’s long driveway and cruised toward the house with the headlights off, navigating mostly by memory. When I finally parked and turned off the van, I had the door open and one foot outside before Jesse managed to grab my arm.

“Wait,” he said. “We need a plan.”

After meeting Jared Hess, I was not in the mood for casual touching. “Let go of my arm. Now.”

He released me. “What’s your plan, Scarlett? You’re going to run in there, unarmed, and demand the release of your teenage friend who happens to be co-responsible for the murder that’s ruining Dashiell’s non-life?”