Part 23 (1/2)

I shook her hard. ”Give me a location!”

”I don't know where it is!” she screamed at me, then took a deep breath, and collected herself. ”I do know he goes there for solace ... or to kill someone. That's probably why Luis drove him. Luis is an expert at killing.”

My heart sank. I released her.

The front door buckled and crashed open.

Mrs. Parson quickly tapped the gla.s.s wall. It slid open, revealing a narrow balcony and harsh city noises rising up from the street. At the same time, Gerald, Bruno, and the rent-a-cop from the lobby rushed into the room.

”Stop!” I yelled at them. ”Leave her alone!”

I whirled back to Mrs. Parson. She was on the balcony facing us, pus.h.i.+ng herself up onto the metal railing and sitting precariously with her back to the night.

”What are you doing?” I worked to keep my voice calm. I was about four feet from her but afraid to get any closer.

”What I intended to do all along. Why else would I lock myself in here?” Her hands were a bloodless white from gripping the rail.

”Get down, Mrs. Parson,” Bruno said, breathing hard.

Bruno and Gerald moved next to me. The rent-a-cop lingered in the background, nervously pulling at his lip.

”If I die, my husband will kill both of you.” Her voice was high-pitched but strong. The truth of her statement froze them in their tracks. She smiled triumphantly as the wind pulled at her hair. ”Tell Diana Poole where The Rock is.”

”You know we don't know where it is.” Bruno spoke in a pleading voice.

”You always lie to me.”

”Swear to G.o.d, we don't know.” Sweat poured from under the chauffeur's chin. ”That's why he had Luis drive him. Only him and Rubio know, and they're with Mr. Parson.”

”Tell her!” She released her hold on the rail and raised her hands into the air, her thin body swaying back and forth dangerously.

”The Rock, Mrs. Parson, that's all we know.” Bruno inched forward again.

”Please get down,” I said to her. ”This is no way to ...”

She cut me off. ”You don't understand. This is the only control I have left.” She grinned at the two guards. ”You two b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are dead.”

She leaned back, her legs extending out in front of her, and for a brief moment she looked as if she were resting against a pile of dark pillows.

”No!” I lunged for her.

Bruno rushed after me.

But before we could reach her, she tumbled backward, falling into the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE.

On the balcony, Bruno swung away from the railing and was instantly in front of me, his ma.s.sive body blocking my way back into the penthouse. His sweaty eyes held mine.

Still reeling from Mrs. Parson's death, I knew if I made one wrong move Bruno would murder me.

Through the open gla.s.s wall I could see Gerald in the living room pacing in a small circle, dragging his hands through his dyed hair. ”Jesus f.u.c.king Christ, Parson's going to kill us!”

Next to him, the rent-a-cop stood, stricken.

Gerald stopped pacing. He had an idea. ”We have to shoot her. We can't let her go,” he said to Bruno.

”Shut up, you useless piece of s.h.i.+t.” Bruno's arm shot out and he clamped a hand on my wrist. My back was only inches from the railing-he could easily toss me over to join Mrs. Parson. But the pain from his death-grip caused my mind to click into gear.

I talked quickly: ”Your only chance to get out of this alive is if Parson never finds out I was here.” Bruno tightened his squeeze on my wrist. Pain ripped up my arm, but I had his attention. ”And you don't want Parson to know that his wife stole the key from you, Bruno. Think about it, if she was locked in properly and jumped off the balcony on her own, you're not to blame.”

Unnervingly composed, Bruno a.s.sessed me.

”I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything!” The rent-a-cop began to cry. ”I'm not part of any of this. I get minimum wage.”

Gerald jammed his fist into his face. ”Shut the f.u.c.k up.” The man staggered backwards, holding his jaw.

”You don't have much time,” I told Bruno. ”There are people down there on the street. They've probably already called 911. It'll look bad if you don't call, too.”

Bruno said over his shoulder to Gerald, ”Do it. Just say a woman's jumped and give the address. Then hang up. I'll call Mr. Parson myself.”

He pulled me back into the living room and glared at the rent-a-cop. ”Get back down to the desk. When the cops arrive, show them up here. And if you want to go on with your useless life, make sure you don't know s.h.i.+t.”

As the man fled, Gerald talked to 911. Bruno dragged me across the living room and out the front door into the brightly lit hallway just as the elevator doors closed.

”You have to let me go, Bruno. It's the only way.” I struggled against his grasp.

Pulling me across the hall, he opened an office door. But it wasn't an office. He shoved me into another, smaller elevator. I stumbled, and he lunged after me, grabbing my throat and pus.h.i.+ng me with his body against the wall. Fingers digging into my flesh, he leaned his full weight on me, shoving one of his legs between mine so I couldn't knee him. I struggled to breathe.

”Remember one thing.” His damp cheek rested heavily against mine, and I felt his hot sweat seeping into my skin. ”If Parson finds out you were here or if he thinks you had anything to do with his wife's death, he'll kill you too. Do we understand each other?”

I tried to nod but couldn't. I blinked. Tears formed.

”Push the bas.e.m.e.nt b.u.t.ton. The elevator will take you down to Parson's private garage. There's an exit door that'll take you to the street at the rear of the building.” With one last shake of my throat, he released me, backed his ma.s.sive frame out the elevator, and watched me suck for air and fumble for the bas.e.m.e.nt b.u.t.ton. I finally hit it.

Plummeting downward, I tried to swallow, I tried to take deep breaths, I tried not to think of Parson's wife falling to her death-the only power she'd had over her husband and her guards.

The elevator came to an abrupt halt, and the doors slid open. Chest tight, I peered out, looking for more men who might be hiding, waiting for me. But there was no place to hide in this windowless, fluorescence-lit room that looked big enough to hold just one limo. There was a steel corrugated garage door. Across from it was the exit. I ran for it, still not knowing where I was heading or how I could find Ryan.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

Sitting in my car on the side street, I heard the sirens from Sunset Boulevard winding down to a whine as the emergency vehicles reached Mrs. Parson's body. The black sky was aglow with the red swirl of their lights mingling with the starker blue lights of the LAPD patrol cars.