The streets narrowed, and the traffic thinned, leaving them almost alone with the speeding van.
Suddenly a blinding shaft of light struck the van from above, startling both Jessie and the van’s driver. Both vehicles swerved as they continued down the street.
A helicopter roared overhead, its searchlight locked on the van.
“It’s a police chopper,” Kendra said. She nodded toward the phone. “They’ve been listening.”
“Good. Now if they’ll just get some police cruisers here to cut these guys off.”
A black void had suddenly appeared to their left. “What the hell is that?” Kendra asked.
“The Silver Lake Reservoir. It goes on for almost a mile.”
They were now on a two-lane road, with a chain-link fence bordering the reservoir on their left, and single-family homes on their right. The helicopter dipped lower, its rotors blowing the trees on both sides of the road.
The van put on an extra burst of speed as if trying to break free of the helicopter’s searchlight. But as the road curved, the van appeared to lose control. It swerved one way, then the next, then finally crashed through the reservoir fence. The van went airborne, launching over and into the dark water below.
“No!” Jessie screamed. “Dee!” She slammed the brakes, and they jumped out of the limo. The police helicopter now hovered over the reservoir, its searchlight trained over the bubbling, churning water where the van had plunged.
Jessie ran around to the limo’s trunk and pulled out a tire iron. “That van could be twenty feet down. How good are you in the water?”
“Good enough.” Kendra grabbed a jack handle and hefted it. “Let’s go get her.”
They ducked through the opening in the damaged chain-link fence and ran to the reservoir’s edge. Wind from the helicopter blades whipped around them, blowing up loose dirt and churning the water even more. A garbled voice spoke from the helicopter’s P.A. system.
“I can’t hear him. What did he say?” Jessie yelled.
“He’s telling us not to go in.”
“That’s what I thought.” Jessie shed her jacket and leaped into the water.
Kendra jumped in behind her.
Cold. Freaking cold.
Didn’t matter, Kendra thought. They had to get to Dee.
She took a deep breath and dove beneath the still-churning water.
The helicopter searchlight cast a shimmering glow on the reservoir’s bottom. Kendra and Jessie descended toward the discharging pockets of air until they finally reached the van, which, true to Jessie’s estimate, was almost twenty feet down.
Jessie swam around to the driver’s side door. The window was shattered, and there was no sign of the driver. Kendra looked inside. There was a built-in metal barrier behind the two front seats, shielding the rear compartment from view. Even in the dim underwater light, Kendra could see the frustration on Jessie’s face.
They swam around to the van’s rear doors. Kendra tapped on them with the jack handle.
Tap-tap-tap.
No response.
Jessie began prying the door open.
Kendra tried again. Tap-tap-tap.
Come on, Dee. Let us know you’re okay.
But she might not be okay. She might be unconscious.
Kendra tried again. Tap-tap-tap.
Again, no answer.
Jessie was working frantically with her tire iron to pry open those doors. Kendra followed suit, inserting the jack handle in the gap between the doors and bracing her feet on the rear bumper.
The doors weren’t budging.
Dammit.
Kendra’s lungs ached, and she knew she had only another few seconds before she’d have to return to the surface.
She pulled even harder.
Open, you son of a bitch…
CRACK!
The lock broke and the door swung open.
Get her out!
They both surged forward—
No!
Kendra and Jessie stared in horror at the sight that awaited them in the van’s rear compartment.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The van was empty.
* * *
Kendra and Jessie pulled themselves out of the reservoir to find four police cruisers now waiting for them on the road. Eight officers had their guns drawn and aimed at them.
The helicopter’s P.A. system sounded another garbled message that neither Kendra nor Jessie could understand, but the cops understood it well enough to lower their weapons.
A tall, bald officer stepped forward. “Delilah Winter,” he said grimly. “Is she…”
“She’s not down there,” Kendra said curtly. “This van was a decoy. They pulled us away right after we exited the 101 onto Santa Monica. The van with Delilah Winter could be anywhere by now.”
“What about the driver?”
Jessie gestured out toward the dark reservoir. “Out there somewhere. They planned for this to distract us and buy time to get away with her. The driver is out there with scuba gear.”
“How do you know?”
Jessie reached into the pocket of her wet jeans and produced a white plastic cap. “This fits over a regulator. I found it floating in the driver’s compartment. You might want to get that helicopter patrolling the edges of this reservoir. If you’re lucky, you might be able to catch him coming out of the water.”
The cop nodded. “Will do. You ladies sit tight. We’ll get you some blankets. We’ll need full statements from you.”
Jessie shook her head and started back for the still-running limo. “We’re heading back to the Bowl.”
“Ma’am…”
“No!” Kendra followed her. “We need to find out how in the hell this happened. If you need statements, you can get them from us there.”
CHAPTER
3
Hollywood Bowl
On the way back to the Bowl, Kendra and Jessie stopped at a twenty-four-hour pharmacy to pick up towels, sweatpants, and T-shirts so they could quickly dry themselves and change.
“It’s a mob scene.” Kendra gave a low whistle and shook her head as Jessie drove up the driveway toward the Bowl’s parking area, which was still ablaze with lights. “It looks like we might have to fight our way back down to the crime scene.”
The audience had obviously been cleared from the premises, but the parking lot was still full of vehicles. Kendra noticed innumerable cars from the LAPD and FBI as well as forensic and coroner’s vans, but the majority of the vehicles were obviously media-related. TV crews were setting up all over the parking lot; there were even three TV vans pulled to the far side. Of course there would be media, she thought bitterly.
Dee was a mega-star, and this was a gigantic story. Journalists always had sources ready to clue them in on potential breaking news. They had probably arrived here before she and Jessie had even pulled out in pursuit.
But the reporters themselves seemed to be milling out here in the parking lot and weren’t being permitted to enter the Bowl itself. There was an LAPD officer checking a clipboard at the front barricade for people to be allowed entrance, but he was looking harassed and being bombarded. “It’s going to take us time to even get close enough to talk to that officer about letting us get down to the crime scene.”
“The hell it is. I’m not in a mood to have to go through this bullshit.” Jessie’s tone was clipped as she parked the limo with a screech of brakes squarely in the middle of the parking lot. “I’m going to see Parks now. If that cop wants to try to stop me, we’re going to have a discussion.”