Read Gridlock: A Ryan Lock Novel Online

Authors: Sean Black

Tags: #Bodyguard, #Carrie, #Angel, #Ty, #Raven Lane, #LA, #Ryan Lock, #Serial Killer, #Stalker, #Action, #Hollywood, #Thriller

Gridlock: A Ryan Lock Novel (17 page)

The sirens were growing louder. But not fast enough.

The sedan was behind them now, its bumper maybe a car length from the rear of Lock’s car. Lock started moving again. Slowly. Wanting to gauge the reaction of the other driver.

The grey vehicle followed, matching his speed, staying close. An LAPD radio car was heading towards them, Raven’s house in sight.

Lock had decided what to do: he would swing hard into the drive, hustle Raven inside, leaving the driver of the sedan to do his explaining to the cops.

Eyes flicking between the sedan and the approaching radio car, he timed his approach, adjusting his speed accordingly. The speedometer ticked over thirty then fell back as the radio car slowed, the two uniforms in front seemingly bracing themselves to make their own move.

The grey sedan had fallen back another car length at the sight of the radio car and the cops inside. Lock grasped the moment, pumping hard on the gas pedal and spinning the wheel.

But the radio car, rather than manoeuvring round him to head off the sedan nosed in front of Lock’s car, cutting off his path to the driveway.

‘What the—’

His car lurched suddenly forward as he was rear-ended by the sedan behind him. Raven, still crouched down in the footwell, banged her head against the bottom ridge of the dashboard where the glove compartment ended. She shouted out in pain.

Then the passenger door of the police car exploded open and one officer was out, wielding a pump-action shotgun, which he was pointing at Lock.

‘Put your hands where I can see them – right now!’ he screamed, as Lock’s vision was filled with flashes of blue and red light. The air echoed with shouts as cops dressed in tactical gear appeared from everywhere.

With a final look in his rear-view, Lock saw the driver of the sedan emerge at a saunter, one hand peeling back the side of his sports coat to reveal a gold detective’s shield fastened to his belt.

Lock’s hands stayed firmly on the wheel as the doors were yanked open and he found himself staring down the hit end of half a dozen firearms.

‘Stay where you are!’ the detective yelled.

He was pulled roughly from the car, and pushed face down on to the road.

Close by, he could hear Raven swearing and struggling as she got the same treatment. Then she quietened and he heard a male voice start to read her the Miranda rights. Lock groaned. Whatever welcome he’d been expecting when they got back from Vegas, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

31

 

Lock jabbed an accusing finger into Stanner’s face. ‘Why did you lie?’

Stanner gave the kind of shrug that suggested he’d been acting under orders.

Lock took a deep breath and a single step back. Uniformed officers were swarming over Raven’s property, and the only silver lining so far was that no one seemed to have any knowledge of what had gone down in Vegas. But he was still angry at the way in which he’d been used. Regardless of the fact that he had believed Raven to be as much sinned against as sinner, he would have delivered his client to the LAPD without hesitation if Stanner had told him they thought they had Raven down cold for the murders of Cindy Canyon and Larry Johns.

It did clarify one thing, though. Normally any officer of the LAPD who confided details of a case to someone outside the organization was risking their career and their pension with it. So Stanner doing it had clearly been sanctioned on some level, official or unofficial. They had wanted to keep him either inside or off-balance. Lock was angry at having been manipulated, but angrier with himself for not having seen it.

He had ignored his usual mantra.
Look out for two things: the absence of the normal and the presence of the abnormal.
Stanner taking him into his confidence had been far from normal and he hadn’t noted the signs.

‘You couldn’t have just told me you wanted to arrest her?’

‘You weren’t exactly co-operative and easy-going when Brogan and Wilkins wanted to talk to her originally.’ Stanner motioned for Lock to move back from the house. ‘Let’s take a walk,’ he said, striding away from the path leading to the front door where forensic techs flitted in and out.

Raven was already gone, arrested on suspicion of murder and spirited to the LAPD jail facility in Van Nuys where they would keep her until she was arraigned before a judge and a decision made about bail. Then she would be transferred to the Twin Towers, the LA County facility at the LA Century Sheriff Station in Lynwood.

‘You can believe this or not,’ Stanner said, ‘but how we played it wasn’t my call. This department doesn’t like outsiders, especially not private operators. Too often they get in the way.’

‘I was doing my job,’ Lock said, unable to squeeze the anger from his voice.

Stanner patted at his bushy curls. ‘And how do you think I feel? Robbery Homicide think the TMU was babysitting a serial killer. You think that’s going to do a lot for my career? Listen, Lock, you’ll be gone, on to the next gig, guarding some rock star or holding the hand of some CEO, but I still have to work in this force. Making captain? Forget it. I’ll be lucky if I’m not writing parking tickets in West Latte.’ That was the LAPD officer’s shorthand for the ritzy West Los Angeles Division, which contained the upscale B-neighbourhoods of Bel Air, Beverly Hills and Brentwood.

‘They really think she’s the perp?’ Lock asked, still trying to get his head around it all.

‘I can’t go too deep into what they have but, yeah, they do.’

‘They have forensics?’

Stanner said nothing.

Lock grabbed at his forearm. ‘So they haven’t. You’re telling me that all they have on her is a motive and a timeline?’

‘Do you listen, Lock? What they have, what they don’t have, they’re not giving any of that to me.’

‘Bullshit. I know how it works. They might be cutting you out of the loop, but you still hear things.’

‘They have some DNA linking her to Cindy Canyon. I don’t know what the deal is with the Larry Johns guy back in Arizona. The fact that he tried to jump her inside the club would suggest they have DNA from there as well, but as far as what they found in his house goes – I just don’t know.’

‘And how are they saying she killed him? He was a grown man from what I know about him.’

‘You know and I know that size doesn’t always come into it. Maybe she Tasered him. Used a knife on him? He was off his ass drunk when he was attacked.’

Lock chewed it over for a moment. ‘I don’t buy it. I don’t buy any of it.’

‘Because you’ve been her bodyguard for all of two days? Hardly qualifies you as a character witness.’

‘So why did she leave Cindy Canyon’s body in her own car?’

Stanner shrugged. ‘What better way to explain it than to say someone planted it there? Lot easier than dumping it somewhere, and having to deal with the clean-up. Anyway, listen, it’s not your problem any more.’

Lock sighed. ‘Doesn’t feel that way.’

‘That’s your ego talking, Lock. Hey, you got taken in. So did I. Join the club. Now, do yourself a favour and walk away before you get sucked even further into the mud.’

Lock shook his head. ‘I still think she’s innocent, but…’

‘Go on,’ Stanner said.

‘I visited the production company she worked for a few days ago. They’d offered her a new contract. There was a poster on the wall of a movie she’d done with Cindy Canyon.’

Stanner smiled. ‘You still think butter wouldn’t melt?’

‘It’s circumstantial.’

‘You could have lifted the phone. Called me about it,’ Stanner chided him.

‘I assumed you’d already know.’

Stanner met Lock’s gaze. ‘You’re not sure either, are you?’

Lock remained silent. Stanner was right. If the cops had Raven for the two killings that was their business, although he still didn’t like the way the LAPD were playing this.

The media were already starting to arrive. Satellite vans and honey-wagons cluttered the sidewalks. A serial killer was box office. A female one doubly so. A female one who’d also worked as a porn star was a triple treat. All the press needed now was the knowledge that she’d turned some tricks on the side, maybe pull some Hollywood A-listers in on the action, and they’d have the true-crime story of the decade.

He searched for Carrie but couldn’t see her. He turned back to Stanner. ‘I don’t have to be right about this, but you do. It’s going to look real bad locking up an innocent woman, especially if it turns out she’s the victim.’

Stanner met Lock’s gaze with a cold stare. ‘In this town, there are no victims.’

32

 

Eventually he found Carrie sitting in her car, staring through the windshield as the media circus pitched its tent outside Raven’s house. Angel bounded from the back seat as Lock opened the passenger door, launching herself towards him.

‘She was the killer all along?’ Carrie asked.

Lock ignored the question as he picked up on the flat, deadened look in her eyes. ‘You okay?’

‘I visited that director.’

Lock was getting a sick feeling in his stomach.

‘He pulled a gun on me,’ Carrie went on, still staring straight ahead.

He knelt down so his face was level with hers. ‘What else happened?’

She didn’t say anything.

He felt his guts twist.

‘Nothing. I ran before anything could.’ She turned her head, meeting Lock’s gaze. ‘I thought he was going to rape me, Ryan.’

He felt nauseous, a sensation that was quickly replaced by cold rage. He reached out to touch her but she pushed him away.

‘I don’t know about Raven Lane, but that guy who tried to assault her in the club, if she killed him, then…’ she paused ‘… good for her.’

‘You’re sure nothing happened at that house?’

‘It was a close-run thing.’ She shook her head. ‘Maybe this isn’t as simple as we’d all like to believe.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe the two murders aren’t linked. Or, at least, not the way everyone is assuming. It doesn’t make sense to me that Raven would kill another woman. But what happened to the guy who assaulted her – I could see her doing that.’

Lock took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly, giving himself a moment to reflect. ‘So Raven’s the common thread but we have two killers?’

‘There doesn’t have to be a link, right?’

‘What about Cindy’s body being planted in the trunk of the car? That’s a pretty big coincidence for there not to be a link.’

Carrie pushed a stray strand of blonde hair away from her eyes and Lock was struck by how vulnerable she looked. ‘Cindy’s death might have pushed Raven to the edge, made her feel even more vulnerable. So when Larry Johns came after her, she snapped, thinking that maybe he was the guy who’d killed Cindy, and took him out.’

‘But that means she would have had to follow him back to the house while still having Cindy’s body in her car.’ Lock stopped, worrying the scar at the back of his head with the tips of his fingers. ‘You can see why, if the police think she killed Larry, she could have murdered Cindy as well.’

‘So she puts the body in the trunk herself and then calls you. Why didn’t she just dump it, like the head?’ Carrie said, her voice stronger now. ‘She was set up, Ryan.’

Lock was ahead of her. ‘You think Vice did it?’ he said, sounding skeptical.

‘You should have seen him, Ryan. That guy’s capable of anything.’

‘Well, maybe I should pay him a visit. I was planning on it anyway.’

Carrie reached across to stop him getting out of the car. ‘Be careful. He was armed when I was there.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ve met guys like him before. We’ll see how intimidating he manages to be when he’s facing me.’

Carrie smiled fleetingly, then dug into her bag and pulled out her BlackBerry. ‘Yes? I need a number for an attorney’s office in Century City.’

As she waited for the listing, Lock sighed. ‘I thought you didn’t want to be involved.’

Carrie gave him a sharp look. ‘Guilty or innocent, Raven’s going to need a good lawyer. And I’m going to make damn sure I get her one.’

33

 

Defense Attorney Fay Liepowitz swept into the interview room in a blur of Chanel perfume and designer clothes. Her presence in the Twin Towers jail facility, where Raven was being held pending arraignment, had already drawn concerned looks between the detectives working what had been dubbed by the
LA Times
and local media as the Porn Canyon Killings.

Liepowitz was trouble. Not only could she pick apart a case better than any other defense attorney in the state of California, she was quick to mobilize traditionally liberal Californian opinion against the LAPD’s supposedly institutional racism and sexism in order to cloud the issue. Los Angeles juries were capable of coming to strange conclusions and Liepowitz knew how to work them.

At forty years old her reputation as a fearsome litigator went far beyond California. A committed feminist, she had been following the case since Cindy Canyon’s head had been found by that creep of an office worker downtown. He’d just noticed those copies of the paper lying there. Yeah, right. If anyone believed that, Fay had a bridge in Brooklyn she would sell them at a knockdown price.

As soon as she had heard of Raven’s arrest via Carrie’s phone call, she’d had her office get straight on to the phones to find out whether Raven had representation. When the answer came back that the authorities were likely to assign Raven a court-appointed attorney, she had stepped into the breach.

As far as Fay Liepowitz was concerned, this wasn’t about whether Raven had killed Canyon and Johns. That was merely the corner piece of the puzzle. No, as far as she was concerned, this was about an industry that brutalized and degraded not just the women who worked in it but all women, and the male-dominated forces in society, like the LAPD, which supported that degradation.

The LAPD might think they were about to put Raven Lane on trial, but if they did, Fay Liepowitz had a shock for them. She was about to put on trial the whole damn adult industry and everyone who supported it. All of those Bible-belt hypocrites who spent more on porn than any other part of the United States, all of those two-faced cowards of legislators in Washington, who decried the women exploited in the movies while their pensions were topped up by the blue-chip companies making millions from selling porn to hotels and cell-phone users – Fay was going to put them all on the stand, metaphorically if not literally. She was going to peel back the curtain on America’s dirtiest little secret, which reduced women, all women, to pieces of meat just to make a buck. This case had all the ingredients to send the media into a frenzy. And it would give Fay her biggest platform yet.

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