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  Wes could see the coupe in his mirror. It had waited until all the cars had passed, and was in the process of pulling onto the street. Wes scanned the street signs, trying to remember which road went all the way through to China Lake Boulevard.

  Perdew Avenue? Maybe … Yes. Yes, it does. But by the time he remembered, he was already too far into the intersection to make the turn.

  Graaf?

  Possibly.

  Reeves? Yes. Definitely Reeves.

  “We’re turning,” he said, unsure if Anna could hear him.

  He didn’t slow the bike until the absolute last possible moment, and then only enough so that he wouldn’t lose control. Leaning into the turn, he cut in front of an oncoming minivan, and poured on the speed again as the bike entered the new street.

  The coupe had to stop to let the minivan pass, buying them a few extra seconds.

  Even then, Anna’s cry, “He’s still behind us!” came sooner than he had hoped.

  If they could only get to China Lake Boulevard, they should be okay. It was the main drag. It had more traffic. Wes could weave the Triumph in and around the other cars, easily losing the coupe.

  They just needed to get there.

  “Wes!”

  The panic in Anna’s voice was enough to make him look back. A vehicle had just come barreling out of the cross street they’d just passed. It was an SUV, dark like the coupe, with tinted windows. But it didn’t turn after them. Instead it continued down the road it was on, and disappeared.

  He kept the Triumph in the middle of the road, his eyes on the boulevard ahead.

  They were only two blocks away when the SUV made a second appearance, this time racing out of the street ahead of them. But instead of continuing, it screeched to a stop in the middle of the road, directly in the bike’s path.

  Wes angled the Triumph so he could go around the back of the truck, but as soon as he made the adjustment, the SUV’s reverse lights flashed on, and it moved once more into his way.

  Wes released the accelerator and applied the breaks. “Hold on!”

  At the last second, he shifted the handlebars and threw his weight so the back of the bike skidded around.

  The smell of rubber burning on asphalt.

  The whine of the engine.

  Then—

  Half thud, half crunch as the Triumph smacked sideways into the SUV.

  Wes threw his right leg out to keep momentum from throwing them to the ground. One of the SUV’s doors started to open, so he twisted the accelerator, hoping the bike had suffered no serious damage. The Triumph responded immediately, zipping forward past the SUV.

  Wes raced to Ward, then took that to China Lake Boulevard.

  As they were finally heading south on the boulevard, he shouted, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah,” Anna called back.

  “Can you tell if they’re still behind us?”

  He could feel her moving around for a moment, then, “I don’t see them.”

  “Okay,” Wes said.

  But he didn’t feel any relief until they pulled in to the police station parking lot.

  “SOMEONE CHASED YOU?”

  Wes and Anna had been handed over to a plainclothes detective named Andrews. He looked to be about Wes’s age, and was obviously having a hard time believing their story.

  “Yes,” Wes said. “From Downs all the way to China Lake Boulevard.”

  Andrews glanced at his notes. “Two cars.”

  “At first it was only the coupe,” Anna chimed in. “The SUV didn’t show up until the end.”

  “That’s the car you ran into?”

  “Yes,” Wes said. “If nothing else, the rear half on the driver’s side should be pretty scratched up.”

  “You didn’t get a look at the driver?”

  “The windows were tinted.”

  “What about the make?” the detective asked. “Or a license number? For either car?”

  “I was a little busy trying to get away,” Wes said. He rubbed his left shoulder. It had taken the brunt of the collision. Though the rear fender of the bike had also been bent a little. Sorry, Dad. Anna had continued to say that she was okay, but he was pretty sure she was just trying to keep him from worrying.

  “There’s got to be someone who saw everything,” Wes added. “We passed several cars.”

  Andrews picked up Wes’s driver’s license from the table. “Mr. Stewart, you do realize that you’re not licensed to drive a motorcycle, don’t you?”

  Wes looked at the detective, his eyes narrowing. “Yes. I realize that. I plan on taking care of that next week. But that has nothing to do with what happened to us tonight.”

  “We’ll have someone check it out,” Andrews said finally, continuing to study the license a moment longer before finally handing it back. “I’m going to let you off this time, considering what you say you’ve been through. I’ll even let you drive the bike back to your motel. But I’d advise you not to ride it again until you get your license sorted out. If you’re stopped, you will be cited, and your bike will be impounded.”

  “Thanks,” Wes said, trying not to let his annoyance show.

  “I’ll have one of our officers follow you back. Just in case your friends show up again.”

  Wes was about to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but he could see that Anna liked the idea. “That would be nice. Thanks, again.”

  “We’ll call you if we need any more information.” Andrews stood up.

  “Or if you find out who did this to us?” Wes asked.

  “Of course.”

  BY THE TIME WES AND ANNA PULLED IN TO THE parking lot of the Desert Rose Motel, it was almost 10 p.m.

  “Not exactly the night I had planned,” he said.

  Anna got off the bike. “Well, it wasn’t dull, that’s for sure.”

  As he joined her on the sidewalk, he noticed she was favoring her left side. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “Is it your arm?”

  She frowned, then shook her head. “My ribs. Jammed my elbow into them when we hit.”

  “You think you cracked one?”

  “I said I’m fine. It’s just bruised.”

  “Maybe we should take you to the emergency room.”

  “Whoa. Who needs to go to the emergency room?” Danny had just exited the corridor to the courtyard, his new friend Dori stuck to his side.

  “Nobody,” Anna said quickly, her voice strong. “I just tripped and banged into something, and Wes is overreacting.”

  “Protective of your girlfriend, are you?” Dori said.

  Danny let out a laugh. “Anna is Wes’s girlfriend? He wishes.”

  Dori merely smiled, but the look in her eye let Wes know she suspected she was right.

  “Hey, we’re going to grab something to eat, then head over to the bar,” Danny said. “Wanna come?”

  “I don’t think so,” Wes said.

  “Come on, Danny,” Dori said. “They want to be alone.”

  “Ha. Alone. Right. Well, if you get bored or thirsty or want to look at more of those pictures, you know where to find us.”

  “Sure.”

  Danny tipped a hat he wasn’t wearing, then continued down the walkway.

  Wes and Anna had only taken a few steps toward his room when Wes stopped. “Our suits. Here.” He handed her his room key and returned to the bike. They’d stashed their chlorine-soaked swimsuits in the compartment behind the Triumph’s seat.

  But he’d barely got it open when Anna rushed back out of his room. “Call nine-one-one.”

  He scrambled for the phone in his pocket. “Is your pain worse?”

  “It’s not me.”

  IN THE MOVIES, WHEN SOMEONE CAME HOME to find their place had been searched, it usually looked like a government-declared disaster area. That wasn’t quite what Wes found when he entered his hotel room, but close enough.

  Everything that had been in his suitcase—shirts, underwear, socks, pants, a few boo
ks—had been tossed into a pile on the floor. The bed was skewed, the mattress twisted at a forty-five-degree angle from the box spring, the sheets and blankets ripped off and thrown in a separate pile against the far wall. Though Wes hadn’t used the dresser, all the drawers had been pulled out and were either on the floor or hanging in their openings. And in the bathroom, the contents of his shaving kit had been dumped into the sink.

  Panicked, he ran over to the closet and jerked the door open. Surprisingly, the camera was still there. But the relief was only short-lived when he realized the backpack with his laptop and the case with the backup system for the cameras were both gone.

  “No!” he yelled.

  Anna came up behind him. “What is it?”

  “They took the computers.”

  While they waited for the police, Wes and Anna searched her room to see if anyone had been there, but it was untouched.

  The same investigator from the previous evening, Detective Stevens, showed up accompanied by Detective Andrews. After a quick examination of Wes’s room, the night manager loaned them the motel office so they could talk to Wes in private.

  “Not a good couple days for you,” Stevens said. “Detective Andrews told me about earlier tonight.”

  “I’ve had better weekends,” Wes said.

  “It’s only half over,” Andrews quipped.

  “Thanks for that,” Wes said. “But what happened earlier tonight has to be connected to this.”

  Stevens took out a notebook. “What makes you say that?”

  “Don’t you see? The people chasing us were just buying time while their friends went through my room.”

  Stevens held his gaze for a moment, but only said, “Perhaps.”

  “Well, if they were,” Andrews said, “you’ve got a lot of people wanting to cause you trouble. At least one each in those cars, and someone here. So who is it you pissed off?”

  Wes did have one idea, but he shook his head. “No one.”

  “No enemies in town? Someone who might want to do you harm?”

  “This is the first time I’ve been here in seventeen years. So no.”

  “You’re from L.A., right? Any problems down there that might have followed you up?”

  “No. Of course not. Look, whoever did this was obviously interested in our equipment, and was just waiting for an opportunity to take it.”

  “Perhaps,” Stevens said again.

  “But your camera’s still here,” Andrews pointed out. “Odd to leave that but take everything else, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they’re more interested in computer equipment,” Wes said.

  “Do you think this is related to what happened in Miss Mendes’s room last night?” Stevens asked.

  Wes hesitated. This was getting close to his own theory. “It is kind of coincidental, don’t you think?”

  There were several more questions, all variations on ones already asked. When Wes was done, he found Anna in the lobby with Alison, so he slumped into the chair across from them.

  “The manager said he’d put you in the room on the other side of mine,” Anna said. “He also said he’s comping you, too. Think he’s afraid we’re going to say something bad about the place on the show.”

  “We should say something,” Alison said. “Anna’s room last night. Yours tonight. Who’s next? Me?”

  “I doubt it,” Wes said.

  Alison didn’t look convinced. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m sleeping with a chair jammed under the doorknob until we leave.”

  They fell silent for several moments.

  “Should we tell the others?” Anna asked.

  “Danny’s busy with his new lady friend,” Wes reminded her.

  Alison rolled her eyes, disgusted. “The way you said that just sounds wrong.”

  “Tell me a way to say it that sounds right.”

  Alison paused for a moment. “Wow. I can’t think of one.”

  “What about Tony?” Anna said.

  “His room’s next to mine,” Alison said. “I could tell him.”

  Wes nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  The door to the outside opened, and the night manager walked in, all energy and nerves. “Mr. Stewart, I’ve got you all set. I even sent someone out to get you some toiletries.”

  “That wasn’t necessary,” Wes told him.

  The manager waved him off. “I also wanted to let you all know that we are adding extra security every night for the remainder of your stay.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said.

  “Let me get you your keys.”

  The man all but jogged to the reception desk. A moment later he was back with two keycards, one a spare in case Wes needed it.

  As Wes took them he said, “I don’t remember seeing any damage to my room door. Could whoever broke in have had their own key?”

  “I don’t see how,” the manager said, immediately defensive.

  “Then how do you think they got in?”

  “I guess that’s what the police will have to figure out.” He gave them a quick smile. “Please let us know if there is anything else you need.”

  He made a hasty retreat to the reception desk.

  “Don’t think he liked the question,” Alison said.

  Wes rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m beat.” He stood up and led them outside.

  Detective Andrews was standing near the doorway to Wes’s old room, talking to one of his colleagues.

  “Any chance I could get my clothes?” Wes asked.

  The two cops stopped talking and looked at Wes. After a moment Andrews said, “Hold on.”

  He disappeared inside the trashed room, then returned a few seconds later.

  “Yeah. It’s fine,” Andrews said. “But we’re going to have to keep the suitcase for evidence.”

  “Why?” Wes asked.

  “We got a partial fingerprint on the lock. Need to send it to the lab in Bakersfield.”

  “I guess that’s something,” Wes said. “Can I go in now?”

  “Yeah, just don’t touch anything else.”

  “We’ll help you,” Anna said.

  Before they entered the room, another thought came to Wes. “What about the camera and its case? Can we take those, too?”

  Andrews pinched his mouth in annoyance. “Stevens, they want to know if they can take the camera bag, too.”

  Wes crossed the threshold, hoping his presence would press the point. The other detective was near the bed, looking through a notebook. There were two uniformed officers present, one with a still camera and one putting Wes’s suitcase in a large plastic bag.

  “Stevens?” Andrews said.

  Stevens glanced up. “Huh? Yeah. That’s fine. It’s clean.”

  Wes was about to ask Alison to get the camera bag, but she made a beeline for his clothes before he could. “She might need some help,” he said to Anna, then grabbed the camera bag himself.

  Once they were loaded up, they headed over to his new room. As he was fumbling with the keycard, he heard a car pull in to one of the spots behind him and its door open.

  “What’s going on?”

  Wes looked over his shoulder in time to see Danny get out of the passenger side of an old Lincoln Continental.

  “Switching rooms,” Wes said.

  The driver’s door opened, and Dori stepped out. “What’s with all the police?”

  “Weren’t you guys going out to dinner and then the bar?” Anna asked Danny.

  “Just ate,” he said. “Gonna walk to the bar from here. So, what is with all the police?”

  “Someone broke into his room,” Alison said.

  “You’re kidding,” Danny said.

  Wes went into the new room and put the camera bag in the closet. “You can dump the clothes on the dresser.”

  Danny and Dori followed everyone inside.

  “Do they know who?” Dori asked.

  Anna shook her head.

  �
�Did they take anything?” Danny asked.

  “My laptop,” Wes said. “And the auto-backup drive.”

  “Oh, crap. The footage,” Danny said. “Who the hell would do that?”

  Wes shook his head, more in defeat than as an answer. “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Great idea,” Anna said. She started for the door. “Let’s give him a little space, huh?”

  “Sure, sure,” Danny said, but didn’t move. “Man, that sucks.”

  “Danny,” Anna said.

  “Come on, babe.” Dori wrapped her arm through Danny’s and pulled him toward the door. “Wes, I’m so sorry. Danny’s right. That does suck.”

  Wes nodded, but said nothing.

  Anna glanced at Wes, then left, but Alison lingered inside a moment longer.

  “If you need someone to talk to, I’m just around the corner.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  She smiled, and looked for a moment like she was going to say something else. But whatever it was, she decided to keep it to herself, and left.

  Once Wes was alone, Danny’s final question ran through his mind again.

  Who the hell would do that?

  The idea Wes had had earlier hadn’t gone away. But there was no way he could be right.

  No way.

  BOOM.

  Wes popped open his eyes.

  He was in bed, the room still dark, a sheen of sweat covering his arms and chest.

  “Are you all right?” Anna whispered.

  Boom. Boom.

  Wes turned toward the sound. “What the hell is—”

  “Wes, are you awake?” It was Alison, her muffled voice coming from the other side of the door.

  He and Anna shared a confused look.

  “Hold on,” he said loud enough for Alison to hear. To Anna he whispered, “Stay here. I’ll see what she wants.”

  He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 2:53 a.m.

  Two hours of sleep. Great.

  He grabbed his T-shirt and his jeans off the floor and pulled them on as he headed across the room. When he got to the door, he cracked it open just wide enough to look out. Alison, dressed in a pair of lime green sweats and an L.A. Dodger’s baseball cap, stood alone just on the other side.