intended to turn.
The sedan followed him into the right lane.
Cole thought about Carly and the men in the SUV and didn’t like where the thoughts led.
He changed lanes again, and glimpsed two shapes when the sedan changed lanes with him. Cole didn’t make out their faces, but the shape filling the shotgun seat was huge. Urman.
Carly was three minutes away.
Cole slowed and let the traffic stack up behind him.
He slowed even more, and straddled the divider line so both lanes behind him backed up. Horns blew, and the woman behind him gave him the finger.
Cars stacked up until a rolling parking lot trailed in his rearview mirror. The marshal’s sedan was surrounded by irate drivers and cars, and trapped three rows back.
Cole kept them locked in the herd of cars behind him until he reached the next cross street. Then he turned hard, punched the gas, and his old Corvette roared.
Cole didn’t get far.
Halfway up the block, a blue sedan and a gray sedan screamed around the corner. The blue sedan blocked the street, and the gray sedan came toward him. Pryor Gregg was driving.
Cole thumb-dialed Pike, who answered with his ETA.
“Twelve minutes out. Maybe less.”
“The marshals jumped me. I’m done.”
The tan sedan raced up behind and screeched to a stop sideways. Urman, all right. And Steinaway.
Cole turned off his phone and shut off the engine. In the silence, he heard the whup-whup-whup of a helicopter. The bird flew past overhead, and banked into an orbit. It was the same helicopter he’d seen from his balcony.
Cole made no sudden moves. He grabbed the top of the steering wheel with both hands, and hoped Carly was safe.
29.
John Chen
John Chen rode a wave of adrenaline-fueled, double-Y chromosome, male-conquest power when he returned to the lab. Success!! He had slipped in and out of the impound yard with no one the wiser (heart revving so hard he thought he would stroke), pulled eight quality prints (using the screenshot Pike sent, showing the man touching the top of the SUV’s door), and still made it back to the lab before six. Chen bumped into Harriet on his way in, and she didn’t even scowl. John, feeling all badass and rippling with confidence, gave her a cheery wave.
“You’ll have my report in the morning. First thing.”
Harriet walked away looking sad.
The prints were things of beauty. The ridges and bifurcations were sharp, the crossovers were clean, and most showed minimal obscuration.
Chen transferred the prints to plastic slides, and scanned their images into the Forensic Science Division’s computer. Software analyzed and compared the digital images with those contained in the California DOJ Criminal Information Services database, and kicked back the results. Two hits appeared on the screen.
Chen glanced around to make sure no one was approaching.
Three of the eight prints were left by Bender.
Five of the eight belonged to a Nathan Daniel Hicks.
Chen brought up the information on Hicks. The dude was a beast. An ex-con and convicted felon with a lengthy record.
Chen glanced around again, then photographed the information with his phone. Printing the document would have been easier, but if someone walked up, he might have to explain.
The rap sheet was long. Chen had to photograph the screen three times, and grew worried Harriet or one of her spies would catch him. He checked to be sure each image was readable, took a last look around, and cleared the screen. Gone! He was safe. He had done it! John Chen, superhero criminalist, was doing his part to save Isabel Roland!
Chen smiled to himself, and his smile became a giggle. Arli Scruggs, a DNA specialist at the gas spectrometer, glanced over. Bitch. Chen smirked, and swaggered away. Screw you, Arli.
Chen filed the slides, and went to his workstation. He needed to call Pike, but he would log the Hancock Park evidence first. Harriet might check on his progress, so he needed something to show her. John logged on to his terminal, and got down to business.
“John.”
Harriet’s voice startled him. Chen lurched sideways and almost tipped over. He caught the desk just in time.
“Oh. Hi, Harriet. It’s coming along great.”
Harriet stared at him like a mortician who hadn’t been paid.
“Come to the conference room, please.”
Harriet didn’t wait for a response. She left.
“Harriet? But I’m writing the report.”
Harriet walked away faster.
Chen glanced at Arli Scruggs. Scruggs gave him the finger.
Chen logged out of his terminal, and hurried to the conference room. It was a large room with a long oval table. Harriet sat at the head. Her hands