The Girl Who Knew Too Much(52)

She checked her watch. She had arrived early, as instructed, after making the eleven thirty call from the last gas station phone booth on Miramar Road. The reporter would have to drive back through town, find Miramar Road, and then negotiate the dirt lane down the hillside to the warehouse. She wouldn’t be here for another half hour or so, maybe longer if she got lost.

Please don’t get lost, Irene Glasson. I need to get away from this place.

She finished the cigarette and started to grind out the butt in the makeshift ashtray. But her fingers were trembling so badly that she accidentally knocked the tin can onto its side. Dead matches and butts spilled out.

Thankfully, they didn’t fall onto a pile of straw, but the very idea of all the used smoking materials in such close proximity to the flammable items that cluttered the warehouse made her shudder.

Hastily she bent down to scoop the discarded matches and butts back into the tin can. The safest thing to do was dump them into the water.

She went out the freight door and walked a short distance along the dock. There was enough light from the lantern and the moon to allow her to see what she was doing.

She tipped the can upside down and dumped the contents into the black water.

Only about another half hour to wait—another half hour and she would have earned the rest of the money she needed to start a new life in L.A.

What a joke, she thought. This was her first and only real acting job, unless you counted all the sex scenes she had starred in over the years. She had given some very fine performances in the gardens of the Paradise Club and in various hotel room beds. The vacationing stars and directors and studio executives had all made promises, and they had all lied.

At least she was going to get paid for this night’s work. All she had to do was stick to the script.

She heard the creak of wood behind her. A footstep. It was the only warning she got.

Panic flashed, threatening to choke her. She started to turn but it was too late.

The blow to her head stunned her. She was dimly aware of tumbling off the dock into the water.

She fell endlessly into darkness, and then there was nothing.





Chapter 25




“There’s a clearing around the front of the warehouse,” Irene announced from the driver’s seat. “One car. It must be Daisy’s.”

Oliver stayed where he was, crouched behind the front seat, and tried to visualize the scene in his head.

“Any sign of Jennings?”

“My headlights are shining directly on her car. Doesn’t look like she’s in it. There’s some light coming from inside the warehouse, though. A lantern.”

“I’m going to take a look. Stay here. Keep the car running, headlights on, until I get out. The glare will blind anyone who might be watching from inside the warehouse.”

“What, exactly, are you going to do?” Irene asked.

She was worried, he thought. He rather liked the idea that she might be concerned for his safety, but it was far more likely that she was afraid he would ruin her chance at the big story.

“I just want to check out the area,” he said.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It struck me as a better idea than walking straight into an ambush. If everything looks legit, I’ll wave you in. Got that?”

“Yes.”

She did not sound happy about the plan but she had agreed to it. That was good enough, he decided.

He cracked the door open, grabbed the cane, and worked his way out of the back seat and into the shadows at the side of the narrow road. The maneuver sent a couple of shock waves through his leg. His forehead was suddenly damp with sweat.

He breathed into the pain. It receded somewhat.

He was really out of shape, he reflected. There had been a time when he could maneuver his way out of a locked trunk or a steel cage. Underwater. Bound hand and foot.

But in spite of the damned leg he was strangely energized. It had been two long years since he’d experienced the old thrill. And this time it was the real deal. No magic involved.

He had Irene to thank for the druglike rush of excitement that was coursing through him. He would pay a price later. The leg was going to bother him more than usual for a couple of days but it would be worth it. He had a bottle full of aspirin and some excellent whiskey waiting for him at Casa del Mar.

Irene had lowered the window on the driver’s side of the car. He spoke to her from the shadows.

“Are you all right?” she asked uneasily.

Irritation crackled through him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Give me a few minutes to go around behind the warehouse and make sure there isn’t anyone except Jennings inside. Douse the lights and the car engine as soon as I give the signal. We don’t want to attract any attention if we can avoid it.”