Close Your Eyes: A Novel Part 18

"Don't worry," she said, deadpan. "If you get your head blown off, I'll take good care of it."

CHAPTER.

8.

KENDRA DOWNSHIFTED AND TURNED onto a dirt road outside Valley Center, an agricultural community located an hour northeast of San Diego. The road was lined by avocado trees blooming with yellow-green flowers.

Lynch flinched at the gravel kicking up from the tires. "Hey, after you're finished driving down this road, let's work my paint job over with some sandpaper. There may still be a few spots you haven't scratched all to h.e.l.l."

"Stop being such a wuss." She slanted him a sly look. "Tell me, are you one of those guys who parks his precious wheels in Siberia so that no one will park nearby and possibly put a dimple in its door?"

"I don't do that. How much farther do we have to go?"

"Not far. Okay, so are you one of those guys who take up two parking s.p.a.ces?"

He sighed. "Look, people in parking lots are careless."

"You are!" She chuckled. "I knew it. You are one of those jerks."

"I only do that once in a while."

She stepped harder on the accelerator, kicking up even more gravel.

"Okay, okay! Almost every time. Happy?"

She eased off the gas pedal.

He scowled. "Mature, very mature."

She smiled. "Better than being a pretentious p.r.i.c.k. Which seems to be the prerequisite for owning a vehicle like this."

"Admit it, you love this car."

"It has its charms."

Lynch glanced ahead. "In any case, I hope these friends of yours can help us ... and that our meeting isn't interrupted by swarms of DEA agents."

"If that happens, my friends will think you tipped them off."

"Ahh, and we're back to my head getting blown off?"

"Not likely. Charlie and Emma are good people." She thought about it. "Of course, I haven't been with them for a long time. Sometimes people change. You'll just have to take your chances."

"Comforting."

"Comfort is highly overrated." They drove for another ten minutes through ever-thickening vegetation and trees until Kendra feared that the dirt and gravel road would disappear entirely. Finally, nestled under a clump of trees against a hillside, she spotted a white RV with lime green trim. "There it is."

Lynch looked at it in surprise. "They drive that? A 1985 Winnebago?"

"They realize they might have to abandon it at any time. They know what they're doing." Kendra stopped thirty yards short of the RV. "We shouldn't drive any closer."

"So what's our play?"

She unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. "We get out and stand next to the car until somebody realizes we're not a threat."

They climbed out of the car and stood on either side of the vehicle.

"Exactly how are we supposed to gain their trust?" Lynch asked. "This could prove boring."

"I'm hoping I'll be recognized. At this very moment, I'm guessing that someone is up on that hill looking at us through a pair of binoculars."

"Or through a rifle scope?"

"Just as likely."

After thirty seconds, the side door of the Winnebago opened. A chubby gray-haired woman in a green tracksuit peered outside. "Can I help you?"

Kendra took a single step away from the car. "Hi, Emma, do you remember me?"

The woman squinted at her, then nodded. "Sure I do, child. Kendra, ain't it?"

"Yes. I need your and Charlie's help."

Emma cast a suspicious glance at Lynch. "We read about you a while back, Kendra. You're helping the police nowadays."

"Once in a while, yes. But I'm not trying to get you in any kind of trouble. You know me better than that. This has nothing to do with your operation."

"If you want us to rat somebody out, you can just leave right now. We don't do that. It's bad for business and bad for our health."

"I promise you, this has nothing to do with you or your customers. I just need your expertise. All I need is ten minutes. Please, Emma."

Emma turned back into the RV for a moment as if listening to someone inside. She turned back and motioned for Kendra and Lynch to come in.

Lynch spoke under his breath. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

As Kendra slammed the car door shut, she smiled at Emma. "It will be okay," she said quietly. "Like I said, good people."

But definitely suspicious, she thought, as they reached the RV and mounted the tall first step of the trailer. Emma's stare was cold and unwelcoming.

Before Kendra's eyes could adjust to the dark interior, she picked up the strong licorice odor that had surrounded Charlie Shelton as long as she had known him. It was from a sinus-blasting hard candy, she remembered, which she could now hear rattling around against Charlie's dentures.

"Who's your friend, Kendra?"

She turned toward the rear of the RV, where Charlie sat in the shadows in a large leather recliner. He was far heavier than he had been when she last saw him, and he wore an oxygen hose beneath his nostrils.

"His name is Adam Lynch." She looked at the faded curtains covering the RV's side windows. "Do you mind if we let a little light in here? I can hardly see you, Charlie."

"Believe me, that isn't such a bad thing these days." He pointed toward the curtains on the vehicle's left side. "Go ahead and pull those open, honey."

Kendra pulled the curtains and flooded the compartment with sunlight. The kitchenette, chipped vinyl flooring, and faded seat cushions had clearly seen better days. Charlie appeared physically weak, but his blue eyes were still lit with the intense joy for life she remembered.

He motioned toward Emma, who had joined them in the RV and pulled the door closed after her. "You'll have to excuse my better half here. She's gotten very protective of me since I got sick."

"I hadn't heard, Charlie. What is it?"

He smiled. "You tell me. You know how much I love it when you do that."

She nodded. "Emphysema. Chronic bronchitis."

He c.o.c.ked an eye at her. "Which one?"

"Both." She placed her hand on his. "And I know it hasn't been easy for you, Charlie. You have awful flare-ups, don't you? You shouldn't be out here. You should live closer to a hospital."

"That's what I keep telling him," Emma said.

"Okay, spill it," Charlie said. "Let me in on your trick."

Kendra smiled. "No trick. You have a veritable medicine chest on your end table, Charlie. I see Atrovent and corticosteroid inhalers, along with a battery of antibiotics to fight off infection. We can all hear the rattle in your chest, and your waste can is overflowing with mucus-encrusted tissues."

He chuckled. "That's the Kendra I know."

"But you should really stop smoking."

He looked startled. "Smoking?" His voice was suddenly wary. "I don't smoke anymore."

"Those awful licorice candies don't quite disguise the smell on your breath, Charlie." She pointed to a khaki jacket hanging over a chair back. "And that looks like a pack of cigarettes in the right pocket of your Windbreaker."

Emma moved toward the jacket, stepping with such force that dishes rattled in the RV's cupboards. She jammed her hand into the pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. She turned back toward Charlie. "You son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

He raised his hands in defense. "Now, Emma..."

"You promised me!"

"Can we discuss this later?"

"You bet your a.s.s we'll discuss it."

His eyes flicked back to Kendra. "d.a.m.n, I should have known better. You know, that could have been a pack of cards you were seeing in my pocket."

"I wish it had been. Anyway, not quite the same shape."

Emma, perhaps finding an ally in Kendra, suddenly softened in her att.i.tude toward her and Lynch. "Can I get you folks some tea, or maybe some soda?"

"No thanks, Emma."

"I'd like some tea," Charlie said.

"Tough s.h.i.t." Emma sat on the tattered bench seat and motioned for Kendra and Lynch to sit across from her.

Charlie shrugged. "Well, I guess that settles that."

Kendra gestured toward Lynch. "As I said, this is Adam Lynch, and I'm helping him look for a friend of mine."

"I see." Charlie looked at Lynch over the top of his spectacles. "And would you happen to be a cop?"

Lynch shook his head. "No. Former FBI, but now I pretty much work for myself."

Charlie and Emma exchanged glances.

Lynch laughed. "Look, I'm really not interested in your pot farm or that garden of exotic mushrooms against the hillside."

"Then what are you interested in?" Charlie asked.

"You two know more about plants than just about anyone on earth," Kendra said. "You can reel off every tree in every forest in this part of the state. And every flower in every garden."

Charlie snorted. "Close. But that's an exaggeration, little lady."

"Only slightly. Will you help me?"

"Tell me what you're looking for."

"Pineland Hibiscus. Probably someplace where there was a lot of it."

"Hmm." Charlie tilted his head back. "That's not real common around here. You see that more in states near the Gulf ... Florida, Texas, places like that. It requires quite a bit of water."

"I know it from Florida," Kendra said. "I have an aunt who lives outside of Tampa. But I know it was pollinating somewhere around here last week. Can you zero in on it for us?"

"Well, I'd say it wasn't growing in the wild. You're looking for watered gardens or a large, maintained area. There was a major housing development in Ensenada that used them in most of their yards and medians, but they've all been pretty much replaced by now. It was probably too much of a challenge to keep them going."

"They should have hired you," Kendra said.

"They couldn't afford me. And neither could the only other place I can think of. Have you been up to Rancho Bernardo?"

Lynch nodded. "North of the city. There's some good golfing up there."

"And a lot of commercial development. It's about twenty miles northeast. I've seen that flower in a lot of the common areas, on hillsides, some of the parks, everywhere. Not very practical for our climate, but maybe a developer's wife likes 'em."