Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 259

Montoya landed at LAX, picked up his bag, and went straight to the rental-car desk. As he was taking steps to collect the Mustang, a much newer model than the one he had in New Orleans, he put in a call to Bentz. "I'm in Los Angeles," he said when his partner answered.

"What? Here?"

"Couldn't stand being your G.o.dd.a.m.ned gopher another minute. Figured I could help out here. Be more hands-on."

Bentz barked out a hollow laugh.

"Fill me in," Montoya said. He listened to the latest in the chain of events that revolved around Jennifer Bentz's ghostly appearances and Olivia's abduction, ending with the picture Bentz had received and his fears for his wife.

"So now the FBI is on the case," Bentz finished.

Montoya snorted through his nose, signed the required paperwork, and grabbed the Mustang's keys. Bentz got along fine with the Feds, but Montoya would rather work without them. Yeah, the bureau had smart agents, state-of-the-art equipment, and a wide net, but still, Montoya preferred to run his own cases. His way.

"Where are you now?" he asked, heading to the lot.

"At Whitaker Junior College. Fernando Valdez didn't show up for work or any of his day cla.s.ses, but I'm hoping he appears tonight."

"He works at the Blue Burro, right?"

"Yeah."

"Been there?"

"Not yet. But the LAPD paid them a visit."

"I might just check it out anyway. Then I'll try to get a room at the dive you've been calling home the last week," Montoya said. "Once you collar Fernando, call me."

"If I find him."

"He's got to be somewhere. You just have to dig a little, think like the p.r.i.c.k to find him. Be a cop, man." He hung up and tossed his bag in the tiny s.p.a.ce for the backseat. He had a map and a G.P.S. system that would lead him to Encino. Once in the Encino City limits, he'd check out the Mexican restaurant where Fernando worked.

Thanks to his heritage Montoya spoke Spanish as fluently as he did English. With a little luck and some patience, he might just learn something.

At Whitaker Junior College, Bentz parked near the gym, then found his way to the student union. After waiting in line behind two giggling female students, he grabbed an order of twin dogs and fries, bought a bottled Pepsi, and took a booth in the corner, behind a fake potted palm. As he ate he kept his gaze fastened on the door. Cl.u.s.ters of students came and went. Some looked young enough to be in high school, others much older, picking up the missed college credits of their youth or returning to college to make a stab at a new career. Goths, punks, beach babes, computer geeks-you name it-a small mixed bag of a student army attended the JC. He checked each face, but he didn't see Fernando Valdez in the groups of students who were studying, eating, or listening to music as they filtered in and out of the student lounge.

He wasn't surprised. Fernando was obviously trying to avoid the cops.

Though he hadn't eaten all day, he barely tasted the wilted fries or the Polish dogs that had probably been spinning under a heat lamp for hours. His mind was elsewhere, on Olivia, hoping beyond hope that she was alive. Safe. Unbroken.

She's tough. Remember that. She's dealt with a homicidal maniac before.

It seemed like a waste of time to sit here on the off chance that Fernando Valdez would show up for his night cla.s.s, but Bentz didn't have many leads. Fernando was his best.

But Valdez wasn't visiting the student union tonight.

Getting up from the table, Bentz felt a twinge in his leg. He ignored it as he tossed the remains of his dinner into a garbage can. Following the instructions posted near the waste cans, he placed his empty plastic basket in a bin marked for baskets and utensils, then carried his bottled Pepsi through the gla.s.s doors and into the coming night.

It wasn't quite twilight, but the fog was rolling in again, settling over the walkways that bisected lush gardens and lawns.

As he thought about his wife, he kicked himself to h.e.l.l and back again for being such a fool, for wearing blinders about Jennifer, for not realizing what he had in his marriage to the one woman he truly loved and trusted.

"Idiot," he muttered as he made his way to Sydney Hall, a two-story concrete building that had all the style and grace of a county jail. Exterior stairs led to the second floor and the doors on the ground level opened outward to wide porches. In a quick check of the building, Bentz noticed that there were no interior hallways. Fernando, registered for "Writing the Play," an English cla.s.s located on the first level, would have to pa.s.s this way if he wanted to get to cla.s.s.

Finishing the remains of his soda, noticing bugs already gathering near the globe lights at the doors, Bentz waited near the stairs while the students trickled into room 134. There was a chance Fernando wouldn't show. No doubt Yolanda had warned him about Bentz. And the fact that he was MIA from his job and earlier cla.s.s indicated he was wary.

h.e.l.l, he could be in Tijuana or deeper into Mexico by now. The border wasn't that far south.

Still, Fernando was a U.S. citizen, born and raised in L.A. Bentz was betting that sooner or later, the kid would surface.

And when he did, Bentz intended to nail him.

Maybe tonight.

Maybe later.

But Bentz wasn't about to back down.

He only hoped that he'd get lucky. No way could he spend an other night in his motel room waiting for the d.a.m.ned phone to ring, staring at that bone-chilling picture of Olivia. And the thought of Olivia spending another night as someone's captive...he just couldn't let his thoughts go there.

Bentz leaned on the wall near the stairs and watched as the door to the cla.s.sroom opened and closed, slamming behind each group of would-be playwrights as they hurried inside.

The purple haze of dusk deepened into night.

No Fernando.

Come on, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Show the h.e.l.l up.

But the noise of footsteps and conversation faded as the stream of students dribbled to nothing. Bentz checked his watch. Ten after seven. No one had entered the room for over five minutes.

It appeared that Fernando was a no-show. Again.

"d.a.m.n it." Bentz drained the dregs from his bottle, watched a moth beat itself against the globe light and was about to toss his empty sixteen-ouncer into the trash when he spotted someone running through the mist. A man, he thought. The guy hurried past the gym and cut across a wide expanse of gra.s.s.

Bentz froze. Squinted into the night.

As the runner drew closer, Bentz recognized Fernando Valdez. The little p.r.i.c.k was actually showing up.

Gotcha, Bentz thought, his pulse elevating. Bentz thought, his pulse elevating. Finally. A break! Finally. A break! Every muscle tense, his gaze glued on the kid, Bentz slid silently to a place beneath the stairs. Peering through the steps he fought to hold himself in check. He had to wait until the kid was close enough to nail. He couldn't risk scaring the little creep off. Every muscle tense, his gaze glued on the kid, Bentz slid silently to a place beneath the stairs. Peering through the steps he fought to hold himself in check. He had to wait until the kid was close enough to nail. He couldn't risk scaring the little creep off.

Fernando was breathing hard, running as if the devil himself were chasing him, sweating as if he'd been running for a while.

He was close now.

Just a little bit further.

Fingering his badge, Bentz waited for just the right moment.

Fernando reached the staircase.

Now!

Bentz sprang from under the steps. Holding up his badge, he blocking the kid's path. "Fernando Valdez? Freeze. Police!"

"s.h.i.t!" Fernando started to turn, but Bentz was ready and grabbed him by the forearm. Hard enough to make Fernando cry out. "Ouch! Hey! Let go of me!"

"I wouldn't resist, if I were you," Bentz warned him, his leg acting up. Not now! His knee couldn't give out now. Not now! His knee couldn't give out now. "You've got no priors, a clean record. You might even have a future if you cooperate now and give up your girlfriend." "You've got no priors, a clean record. You might even have a future if you cooperate now and give up your girlfriend."

"What? You're crazy! Let go of me!" Fernando yanked hard on his arm, but Bentz held on tight.

"Look, you're going to tell me who, what, when, and where, everything you know about this freaky scam involving the Impala and the woman who is pretending to be my ex-wife. Who's behind it. Where the h.e.l.l the girl who's pretending to be Jennifer is and most importantly where my wife is."

"I don't know what you're talking about, man."

"Give it up, Valdez, it's over."

Recognition finally registered in the kid's eyes.

"I mean it."

"You?" he said, his lips curling in revulsion as he finally put two and two together, putting Bentz's face to his name. "I should trust you? you? The pig who killed my brother?" The pig who killed my brother?"

"You'd better, or I'll haul your a.s.s into jail so fast your head'll spin."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Fine. We'll do this at the station." Bentz started marching him to the parking lot, figuring he could get some a.s.sistance from the guard in the booth there.

As they moved away from Sydney Hall the kid tried to worm away, pulling with such force that Bentz had to will his leg not to buckle as he yanked back.

"Look, don't think you're going to get out of this," Bentz growled. "I'm not messing around."

"Leave me alone, you p.r.i.c.k!"

"Can't do it."

"What the h.e.l.l do you want from me?" The boy's face was set. Hard. Dusk shadowed the sharp angles of his jaw.

"I already told you, just the truth."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right." With his free hand, Bentz pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed dial b.u.t.ton for Hayes. It rang. Once. Twice. "Come on, come on!" Three times. "h.e.l.l."

For once the detective picked up. "Hayes."

"It's Bentz. I've got Fernando Valdez." They were still marching toward the gym. A few pa.s.sing students eyed them curiously, but no one stopped to ask what was up.

"What?" Hayes asked. "You found him?"

"At Whitaker College." He glanced at Fernando. "Seems he didn't want to miss his seven o'clock."

Fernando gave a tug and Bentz reciprocated, his fingers digging deep into muscles and tendons.

"s.h.i.t, man!" the kid whispered, but he quit trying to break free.

"I'm already on my way," Hayes said. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen, tops."

"Just get here," Bentz said. "I'm armed, but I don't want to have to hurt him."

Bentz felt the younger man tense, heard him swear under his breath in Spanish. The kid was finally scared, too.

"Meet us at the west parking lot," Bentz said. "Near the guard booth."

"Got it."

Bentz ended the call. As he tucked his phone back onto his belt, the kid tried once more to break away, and Bentz felt the strain on his sore leg. He growled, wincing. Strain caused beads of sweat to form on his brow.

"I didn't break any laws," Valdez insisted. The curl of his lip suggested he was glad to cause Bentz some pain.

"I can't help you until you help me," Bentz said. "If you've got a brain in your head, you'll start talking about the girl you loaned your car to. The one you set up to pretend to be my wife."

"You're crazy. Loco. I have no f.u.c.king idea what you're talking about!" Fernando insisted, but there was a hint of fear in his dark eyes, a second of hesitation, as if he, too, felt the night and justice closing in.

"It'll go a whole lot easier if you give it up before you're arrested."

"Arrested? Are you out of your mind?"

"You tell me." They reached the edge of the parking lot. From here he couldn't see the campus security guard who had been patrolling the area on foot earlier. Where are they when you need them? Where are they when you need them? Bentz wondered, scanning the parking lot as he warned Fernando, "You've got about three minutes to talk before Detective Hayes shows up," Bentz said, wishing he could squeeze the words out of this kid. The truth...the answers...the location where he'd find Olivia. "If I were you, I'd want to go on record as being cooperative. Right now the LAPD wants you behind bars." Bentz wondered, scanning the parking lot as he warned Fernando, "You've got about three minutes to talk before Detective Hayes shows up," Bentz said, wishing he could squeeze the words out of this kid. The truth...the answers...the location where he'd find Olivia. "If I were you, I'd want to go on record as being cooperative. Right now the LAPD wants you behind bars."

"Let them arrest me," Fernando said. "I got nothin' to hide." He glowered at Bentz with a dark gaze of pure hatred. "But you...look at you, sweating like the pig that you are. I hope whatever you're going through, it stings like a b.i.t.c.h."

Bentz didn't release his hold on Valdez to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The Jennifer imposter had escaped him, but he was not going to let this one go. "Cut the theatrics, kid. You don't have a chance of seeing sunlight from outside a prison wall if you don't start talking. Tell me where your girlfriend is, and where are you holding my wife. You've been working with her from the start, right? Are you the runner? Do you take care of the dirty work?"

"Again, you're talking crazy!"

"If I'm crazy, why are you the one going down for kidnapping?" Bentz said, thinking of Olivia trapped somewhere in a prison. His grip on the boy tightened. "Kidnapping...and just maybe a few counts of murder."

CHAPTER 37.