Blood Money Page 7

  “So now you’re comparing yourself to The Founding Fathers?”

  Kelton closed his eyes and gently shook his head. Once again, he was reminded why he preferred to keep the specifics of his beliefs to himself. It simply wasn’t worth the energy to try and explain them to others.

  “I’m not comparing myself to anyone,” he said. “I’m simply trying to explain my position, that’s all. But obviously, it’s not working, so I’ll just shut my trap and we can talk about something else.”

  Jessica opened her mouth but Kelton held his hand up, cutting her off before she started.

  “No need to protest, Milady. Let’s just relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. We’ve got less than an hour before we’ll be meeting up with Walter, and then you’ll never have to see me again. In the meantime, if you’d like some dessert, I’ve got chocolate cake.”

  “That sounds great,” Jessica said, her tone muted.

  Kelton stood up and headed for the kitchen. He couldn’t say for sure, but from the look on Jessica’s face, it appeared as though she had actually felt bad about the way the conversation had ended.

  Not that it mattered.

  As long as everything went according to plan, she’d be out of his life before he had a chance to think about how much he liked having her around.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Time to go,” Kelton said. “Are you ready?”

  Jessica nodded and they headed towards the garage.

  The second half of the evening had been much less troublesome than the first; they had killed the last hour before the meeting by talking about relatively benign subjects such as music and literature.

  Kelton opened the door and they both got into the car. Once in the driver’s seat, he fastened his seat belt, then reached up and pressed the button on the garage-door opener attached to the sun visor.

  He waited until the door was completely open, then started to back out. Once clear of the garage, he pressed the button again and the door started to close behind them.

  They were three-quarters of the way out of the driveway when a large, black, familiar-looking SUV pulled in and skidded to a stop, blocking their exit.

  Kelton slammed on the brakes and kept his eyes locked on the rearview.

  The driver’s side door opened. Out of the SUV came an enormous, heavily-muscled man dressed in a suit with the jacket still buttoned. A bodyguard. And Kelton had a pretty good idea who he worked for.

  Kelton slammed the transmission into park. “Stay in the car.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Jessica said.

  “Just lock the doors and sit tight,” Kelton said. “I’ll take care of this.” He opened the door and climbed out before Jessica had a chance to say anything else.

  The bodyguard stopped near the rear bumper of Kelton’s car, about ten feet away. He was at least four inches taller and 60 pounds heavier than Kelton. His face and neck were puffy from years of steroid use and his hair was cut short. His small, angry, blood-shot eyes were bouncing.

  “You need to come with me,” he said in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. “Someone wants to have a talk with you.”

  “Let me guess,” Kelton said. “Jason Preston?”

  The bodyguard nodded.

  “Tell him sorry, but I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “Suit yourself,” the big man said. He started moving forward.

  Kelton reached into his open jacket and pulled the SigPro from its holster. “Not another step.”

  The bodyguard stopped.

  Kelton let his arm hang at his side, purposely keeping the pistol in a neutral position. His only chance of staying on schedule to meet up with Walter was to defuse this situation without firing a shot, and he was going to do everything in his power to do just that.

  “You can go back to your master and tell him I’ll drop by one of these days for a face-to-face, when I decide the time is right.”

  The man had a look on his face like he was trying to determine if Kelton would actually shoot him.

  “I will,” Kelton said. “Trust me.”

  The big man nodded almost imperceptibly but didn’t retreat.

  Kelton was starting to wonder if he was going to have to take action to break the stand-off when he heard a shrill, familiar voice say, “Fuck this!”

  The rear door on the passenger’s side of the SUV flew open.

  Jason Preston stumbled out, a small black pistol extended in front of his chest in a double-handed grip. His arms were visibly shaking and his eyes were wild. His left foot was in a walking cast.

  “Get back in the car, Mr. Preston,” the bodyguard said. “Let me take care of this.”

  “I’d do what he says,” Kelton added.

  “No fucking way,” Jason said. “I got the drop on you, man. I’m going to take you out.”

  “Listen,” Kelton said, his arm still hanging by his side, his voice still measured. “I don’t have time for this crap right now, kid. I let you off easy last time. If you drop that gun right now, I won’t kill you this time either.”

  “Very fucking funny,” Jason said. “Considering I have a fucking gun pointed at your fucking chest right now.”

  “Actually, it’s pointed a little to the left of my belly button,” Kelton said. “But the way your hands are shaking, by the time you actually pull the trigger, you’ll probably miss me by ten feet. And even if you do manage to hit me, by the time you try and get off your second round, you’ll be lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Because I’m a big man, you see, and that little nine-millimeter cap shooter won’t even faze me.”

  Kelton raised the SigPro into view but didn’t point it at Jason. He still had hopes of diffusing the situation without firing any shots.

  “However, this gun is a monster,” he said. “And the +P ultra-hot loads I have in the clip will blow out your spine. It’ll look like a bowling ball exploded in your chest. So just put your gun down and climb back in your car and have your bodyguard drive you back to your mansion.”

  “You should listen to him, Mr. Preston,” the big man said. “We’ll take care of this on a different day.”

  Doubt crept into Jason’s eyes and he swallowed hard. He glanced over at his bodyguard and the barrel of his Glock started to drift downward. Then he turned his gaze back to Kelton and the muscles in his arms tightened, his eyes opened slightly wider and he leaned forward just a bit.

  Kelton reacted without conscious thought, lifting the gun, pointing it at Jason’s chest, and squeezing off a round in one swift, smooth movement.

  The roar of the gun shattered the still evening.

  Jason’s body jerked backwards as though yanked from behind and he fell to the ground, a hideous moan escaping from his throat. He had fired one wild shot at Kelton milliseconds after taking the high velocity round directly in the sternum but it had missed badly.

  Kelton swiveled to his left, but the bodyguard had taken off as soon as the shooting started. The big man was rumbling down the sidewalk, half a block away. The sound of sirens was already audible; one of the neighbors must have seen the situation developing and called the cops.

  Kelton put the SigPro away and climbed into his truck. Jason’s SUV was still blocking the driveway, but that didn’t matter. Kelton cranked the wheel to the right and reversed until he was perpendicular to the driveway, then spun the wheel back around, slammed the transmission into drive, and drove across the front lawn.

  “Hang on,” he said as the truck slammed through the bushes, over the sidewalk, and into the street.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Jessica said.

  “Just some leftovers from a prior job.”

  “Just? How can you consider that confrontation to be ‘just’ anything? You killed that kid.”

  “Damn right,” Kelton said. They turned left at the first intersection they came to. “And I should have done it the first time I ran across him. Would have been a hell of a lot less messy, particularly to our current situation.�
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  “So you’re a hitman too? Funny, you didn’t mention that earlier.”

  “No. I’m a vigilante. But different jobs call for different responses.”

  “And what about that kid’s situation called for that particular response?”

  “He was a sexual predator,” Kelton said. “Thirty-seven girls, by his own count. He’d drug them, bring them to his house, rape them, then leave them by the side of the road after he was done.”

  Jessica’s mouth was closed, her features drawn tight.

  “The night I broke into his house, he had one lying unconscious on his bed and was positioning his cameras to get the best angle to film her. He was just about to—”

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “Enough.”

  “You sure?” Kelton said. “Because I can get more detailed if you like.”

  “No,” Jessica said. “I get it.”

  “Good, because I really should focus my attention on the situation at hand.”

  As if on cue, the sound of sirens grew louder. A few seconds later, a San Diego Police cruiser came up behind them. Kelton pulled over to the side and let the cop pass. The cruiser sped past him without slowing, and turned left at the next intersection, apparently heading towards the scene of the shooting.

  After the cruiser disappeared, Kelton pulled away from the curb and continued on, careful to stay under the speed limit. He figured they had no more than two minutes before the police got enough information from his neighbors to put an APB out on them and his truck. He intended to get as far away as he could during that time.

  “So what do we do now?” Jessica asked.

  “Get the hell outta Dodge.”

  “And our little meeting with Walter?”

  “That remains to be seen,” Kelton said. “I’ll call him as soon as we clear the area and we’ll take it from there.”

  Jessica nodded, her face registering slight disappointment.

  Kelton was about to tell her not to worry, that it would all work out fine, when he again heard sirens growing near. Then, two intersections ahead, another police cruiser turned the corner onto their street and came towards them. Again the cruiser drove past without slowing, also apparently heading towards the house. Kelton took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He heard Jessica do the same.

  The cop flipped a bitch.

  “Shit,” Kelton said. He checked his rearview mirror and saw the police car gaining on them, but he kept his speed hovering right at the limit.

  “What now?” Jessica said.

  “We’ll go for a little ride along the surface streets,” Kelton said. “Cops don’t like high-speed chases. He’ll call for help, eventually a helicopter will get involved. If we don’t do something drastic, they’ll keep their distance, follow us around for a while and try and wait us out.”

  Kelton passed a slow-moving VW Bug, took a right on Broadway, then a quick left on Park. Working out a plan as they went along, he said, “We’ll head on up to Balboa Park. Take to our feet.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “If we stay in the car, we’ve got no chance.”

  “But on our feet, we do?” Jessica said. “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me.”

  “It’s our only hope. Balboa Park is huge—the entire San Diego Police force would have trouble completely locking it down. Plus there are a couple hundred buildings, tons of shrubbery, four different canyons, and lots of ways to get out. And it’s usually pretty empty out there this time of night. We should be able to get where we need to be without being seen by any witnesses.”

  “But won’t the cops bring out dogs?”

  “Eventually,” Kelton said. “But we won’t be around by then. We’ll be out of the area before they even start to mobilize an effective search.”

  They crossed over Interstate 5, then passed the on-ramp to the 163 freeway. They were less than two minutes from Balboa park, and even though two cop cars were now on their tail, there were no helicopters involved yet. It looked like they were going to make it.

  “We’re almost there,” Kelton said. “Get ready to jump out as soon as I stop the car.”

  Jessica nodded her head. “All right, but I still don’t like this idea.”

  “You got a better one?”

  “No.”

  “Then just concentrate on keeping up with me.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Kelton turned hard into one of the many parking lots connected to the outskirts of Balboa Park. He ignored a sign marked OFFICIAL VEHICLES ONLY and headed down the access road towards the center of the park. He looked back and saw that the first police car had overshot the driveway, but the second one made the turn and was starting to gain on them.

  “Listen closely,” Kelton said. “When we stop, jump out as fast as you can and follow me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Whatever you do, keep your eyes on me. Don’t look back. And don’t worry about the cops. I know this area well. We’ll be fine if you can keep up.”

  They followed the narrow, winding access road as it snaked behind buildings, through larger parking lots and past parked cars. It finally came to an end at a loading dock in the rear of one of the many Spanish-style buildings that dotted the grounds in this area of the park, known as The Embarcadero.

  “Here we go,” Kelton said. He slammed on the brakes and cranked the steering wheel. The truck spun 90 degrees and came to a stop just short of the loading dock.

  He jumped out of the vehicle, ran around the back end, and sprinted for the small walkway between the buildings to his right, dodging surprised pedestrians the whole time. He could hear the patter of Jessica’s footsteps behind him as he ran.

  They had just reached the end of the walkway when Kelton heard the screech of tires behind them, followed by the slamming of doors and shouting as the policemen exited their car.

  Kelton reached the corner of the building, turned left, then quickly left again, into a large courtyard. He ran through the courtyard, dodging a young couple pushing a stroller, then made another left after exiting out the other side of the building. Now with the building between them and the pursuing policemen, they followed the curving cement path towards the large, outdoor theatre a couple hundred yards away.

  Kelton could hear sirens wailing from somewhere in front of them, but was unable to see the unmistakable lights that would accompany them, so he knew there were no cop cars presenting an immediate danger. The path continued to curve, taking them back behind the building they had just left, which allowed them to continue running without worrying about being seen by the policemen at their rear. The evening was cloudy, and the light meager, allowing them relatively safe passage through the streets of the park as long as they kept away from the well-lit buildings.

  Kelton glanced back. Jessica was right behind him, and nobody else was in sight. The sound of a police helicopter filled the night air, but it was still a long way off, and of no immediate concern.

  They followed the path to the outdoor theater, then cut right and crossed the street under the cover of darkness. They passed by a series of International Cottages that were closed by this time of night, past an empty parking lot, and down the side of a heavily-wooded ravine that would provide ample cover from the helicopter that was rapidly approaching.

  Halfway down the moderately steep slope of the ravine, Kelton stopped and held out his arm.

  Jessica slid down another couple of feet before gaining control of her body. “What?” she whispered.

  “Do you hear the chopper?”

  Jessica listened for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”

  “Exactly,” Kelton said. “It was on its way, but for some reason it turned around before it got here.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yeah, but I wonder why it peeled off.”

  “Maybe there was a higher priority development,” Jessica said.

  “More important than a chase following a murder? I don’t think so.”

/>   “It doesn’t matter. We should just be glad it’s not here.”

  “You’re right,” Kelton said. He filed the incident away in his mind to review later, when the timing was more appropriate. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They again started down the sloped ravine, heading towards the west end of Balboa Park, picking their way carefully through the underbrush to avoid making too much noise.

  “Okay, here’s the deal,” Kelton whispered as they moved along. “There’s probably ten other ravines this size scattered throughout the park, all of which connect up with each other, plus the San Diego Zoo. There’s no way the cops can devote the manpower to search the entire park without the help of a helicopter; it’s just too damn big. So until another one arrives, the search will be relatively passive. They’ll still be looking for us, but they’ll most likely concentrate their efforts on the roads leading out of the park, which they’ll have cut off by now.”

  “So how are we going to get out?”

  “We’ll continue through the ravine until we get to the 163 freeway,” Kelton said. “Then we’ll hop the fence and cross the freeway.”

  “Cross a freeway? Are you serious?”

  Kelton nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s only two lanes each way with a median in between. And on the other side is a well-covered slope, leading to Hillcrest.”

  “And from there?”

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Kelton said. “Right now we just need to focus on getting out of the park before another chopper arrives.”

  A siren came to life somewhere behind and above them. Kelton pulled Jessica to the ground. They snuck in behind a large patch of scrub brush and sat still as the cop car came to a stop above them and to their right. A spotlight haphazardly scanned the area, coming with fifteen feet of their location before reversing direction. A few seconds later, the light disappeared, and Kelton heard the sound of a door closing, then the car taking off.