Kendra closed her eyes.
Detach. Concentrate.
The smells. Cologne, perfumes, body odors from the sweaty dancers…
And something else. Soybeans?
“Delilah! Delilah! Delilah!”
Kendra opened her eyes. “Propofol.”
“What?” Jessie said.
“Propofol. It’s an anesthetic with a soybean emulsifier. Very distinctive odor. It was used here just in the last few minutes.”
“Oh, God,” one of the dancers whispered.
Kendra looked down at the unused stage speakers. Each about four feet tall, they were sprinkled with glitter, spread evenly over their top surfaces.
Except…
“Someone’s been handling these since the last costume change.” Kendra crouched by one of the speakers and pulled on its black grille. “Help me with this.”
Jessie and two of the security agents pried off the front grille.
As they pulled it away, a body tumbled from the speaker enclosure.
“Henner!” Colin Parks knelt beside him and felt his agent’s chest. He pulled his hand away. It was covered with blood. “Dead.”
Kendra was already at work on the other speaker grille. Within seconds she had it off.
Another body tumbled out. Blood pooled on the concrete floor.
“Krabbe!” Colin moved to the other body. “Dead. Stabbed or shot, I can’t tell.”
Jessie’s jaw clenched. “But where’s Dee?”
Kendra stared at the floor between the two speaker enclosures. “There’s nothing here…”
“What are you saying?” Jessie crouched next to her.
“There’s glitter all over the place. But not here. An empty space, the same dimensions as…” She lifted her head sharply. “There was another speaker here.”
“Delilah! Delilah! Delilah!”
Jessie cursed. “That’s where Dee is. These speaker enclosures are on casters. She was rolled away.”
“Rolled away where?” Colin asked.
Jessie jumped to her feet. “The loading dock. Hurry!”
The group ran down the long hallway that ran behind the Bowl shell until they reached the loading dock. The small driveway was empty save for Dee’s waiting limo and an eighteen-wheeler that stood ready for the loading of tour stage and lighting equipment.
Colin spoke to the truck driver as Jessie ran toward a uniformed LAPD officer. She pointed to the tall Hollywood Bowl marquee sign on an island in the middle of Highland Avenue. “There are people in there, aren’t there? Controlling the traffic signals?” Before he could answer, Jessie continued, “Radio them and ask if a truck or van left this driveway in the last couple of minutes. We need to know which direction they’re headed.”
“Ma’am, I need to know why you’re—”
Jessie, a good head shorter than the cop, raised her chin and got in his face. “Do it. Now.”
The cop nodded. He swallowed hard and raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth.
Colin had turned away from the truck driver and was shouting to the cop on the walkie-talkie. “We’re looking for a black Ford Transit van, no windows. Two men in coveralls loaded a speaker into it. It just left!”
The cop nodded and repeated the information. Then he listened to his walkie-talkie before nodding to Jessie. “The van got on the 101 heading south toward downtown. Anyone care to tell me what—?”
“Later.” Jessie grabbed Kendra’s arm. “Come with me.”
Kendra instinctively obeyed her. “What are we doing?”
“Stealing that limo over there that was waiting for Dee. Go around and get in.”
Kendra did as she was told.
Jessie opened the driver’s side door and pulled out the startled driver. “Sorry about this, but I don’t have time to get my car.”
The driver, stunned, looked dazedly toward the police officer for help.
Jessie didn’t wait for him to decide whether or not to make that plea verbal. She climbed in, started the limo, and peeled out of the driveway. She ignored the red traffic light and roared across Highland to the U.S. 101 entrance ramp.
“Think maybe we should have brought some muscle?” Kendra asked.
Jessie squinted at the cars ahead of them. “No, I’ll have to be the muscle,” she said absently. “I didn’t want to wait for the cops to get their act together. Every minute we spent back there increased the risk of losing them.”
“If we haven’t already.”
Jessie shook her head. “Don’t say that.”
“One way or another, we’ll find her, Jessie.”
An ocean of brake lights appeared on the freeway in front of them.
Jessie drew a relieved breath. “L.A. traffic. This could work for us.” She cut the wheel hard right and sped down the shoulder. “Keep on the lookout for a black Ford van.”
Kendra had already risen in her seat as she scanned the six lanes of traffic. “I’m on it. So far I’ve only seen two white Toyotas and a Subaru.”
Jessie cursed. “Damn, I wish I had my motorcycle.”
Kendra pointed ahead. “See that?”
Jessie’s gaze flew a few hundred yards in front of them, where a van had abruptly cut into the shoulder. It peeled out and roared into the distance. Jessie jammed hard on the accelerator. “It’s a Ford Transit 250. Call 911 and make sure the police know. Late model, high roof option. Tell them the suspects are taking the Santa Monica Boulevard exit.”
Kendra was already speaking into the phone before Jessie finished talking. She left the connection open and dropped the phone into the cup holder.
“Hang on,” Jessie said. She spun the wheel as they swerved down the Santa Monica Boulevard exit ramp. There was no sign of the van. “Shit. Where is it?”
Kendra leaned forward as they reached the bottom of the ramp. There, less than half a block to their left, were the familiar taillights of the Transit van, frantically weaving in and out of traffic.
“There!”
“I see it.” Jessie turned the wheel and gunned the engine, roaring down the street. “Keep your eyes on that van. I need to play some bob and weave here.”
“Got it.”
Jessie raced through the cars, at one point even jumping the curb and taking the sidewalk for a half-block stretch.
“It’s turning right at the light,” Kendra said. “Onto Sunset Boulevard.”
“I’m on it.” Jessie spun onto Sunset, now only a few yards behind the van. She put on an extra burst of speed and pulled even with the heavily tinted driver’s side window. The window lowered slightly, and the streetlights caught the glint of a gun barrel.
BLAM!
But Jessie had already dropped several feet behind. The van swerved and sideswiped the limo’s front right panel, pushing them into oncoming traffic. Jessie pulled back into her lane.
The van picked up speed.
“Don’t lose it,” Kendra shouted frantically.
“No way.” Jessie gripped the wheel harder. “Those guys are really starting to piss me off.”
They followed the van down Sunset until, without warning, it cut a hard left.
“Silver Lake Boulevard,” Jessie said as she followed. “Where in the hell are they taking her?”