She heard a loud pop-then shielded her face as a wave of shattered glass burst through the air and crashed into the room. Ducking out of the way, she turned just as a cast-iron chair from the terrace bounced off the living room wall. But she didn’t turn back quickly enough. She didn’t see Dan Cobb charging through the broken slider as much as she knew it was him.
He hit her hard. He blindsided her with all his weight, and tackled her to the ground.
Lena smashed onto the hardwood floor and felt the air rush out of her lungs. He was on top of her now. He pulled her gun away and tossed it by the couch, pressing his hand over her face and pushing her head down.
She forced herself to breathe. After two quick gasps, she drew in more air, then rocked her body onto her side and tried to squirm out from underneath. She kicked him in the stomach and chest, kept her feet moving, and tried to pull herself away. She reached out for the side table, but Cobb batted it away with such force that the legs broke off as it hit the floor.
He grabbed her by the waist, rolled her onto her back, and reeled her in. He was on top of her again, grunting and groaning and using his body weight to keep her arms and fists still. He was pulling her hair and gripping her head and slowly working his way downward.
She felt his hands close around her neck. His grip tightened and began squeezing the life out of her. She looked for her gun-tried not to panic-and saw it on the shards of broken glass. She knew it was too far away.
She looked at his face, the sweat beading on his forehead. His nose looked broken-his goatee framing his clenched teeth.
“You corrupt piece of shit,” he was saying. “You corrupt piece of-”
She started choking. She tried to find his fingertips. Tried to pry them-
“You broke into my fucking place. You stole my files. My fucking murder book. My fucking murder-”
His grip tightened. She was dizzy again. He lowered his face into hers. They were nose to nose now. She could feel herself-
“You’re the new fucking deal all right,” he said. “A total fucking fraud. A liar and a cheat, a thief and a dirty fucking-”
She tried to find her voice. When the words came out, they broke up like a bad cell signal.
“Kill me, Cobb. But it won’t make any difference.”
His rage seemed to double. “It’ll be better.”
“It won’t make any difference because they know.”
He laughed at her and banged her head into the floor. She tried to pull his hands away. She couldn’t. She thought that she might already be dead. Everything seemed upside down.
“They know you did it,” she said. “They know you shot Bosco and Gant.”
He let go of her neck.
She didn’t know why.
She started coughing and tried to catch her breath. Cobb was still on top of her-his chest heaving, his face an inch away like they were lovers. Those wild eyes staring through her.
“They know you did it, Cobb.”
“How?”
“The gun you used. It matched up.”
“It matched?”
“That drive-by case you worked with Bennett and Higgins. Eight years ago in Exposition Park. Elvira Wheaten and her grandson. You pulled the gun from Property. They have your request card. You did it. All four of you assholes are guilty. You kill me and they’ll hunt you guys down like animals.”
His eyes were still on her, still measuring her as he chewed it over. He looked crazed and still couldn’t seem to get enough air. After a long stretch, he rolled off of her body, then reached out and grabbed her gun, his mind a million miles away.
“They didn’t make girls like you when I was growing up,” he said.
“Screw you.”
“We need to take a drive.”
“So you can shoot me?”
“No,” he said. “So you can see something.”
“See what?”
“You tell me when we get there.”
“You’re a piece of shit, Cobb.”
He handed over her gun and struggled to get to his feet. “No, I’m not, Gamble. I’m the guy who tipped off Paladino, and made sure that Jacob Gant’s DNA got lost in the fucking lab.”
46
She was sitting in the passenger seat of his Lincoln. Cobb had asked her to call ahead to make sure Martin Orth would be at the crime lab. Once she had confirmation, Cobb called a sheriff’s deputy he knew to come over and fix her sliding door before the coyotes moved in.
Maybe the world really was spinning upside down. Maybe she’d crossed over and died on the living room floor.
She looked at him behind the wheel-his wild eyes pinned to the road. Another dust storm was blowing into the city thick as smoke. The freeway kept vanishing, then coming back.
During the silence, she tried to make sense of it all.
Cobb had turned on Bennett, Watson, and Higgins, and given Paladino the anonymous tip. First, Cobb had railroaded Gant, but then he’d given him the only chance he had at a NOT GUILTY verdict.
She tried to make sense of it, but she couldn’t.
He seemed so jittery. He kept checking the rearview mirror. He said he wouldn’t talk to her until they reached the crime lab. He wanted Lily Hight’s clothing brought to a room where they could be assured of privacy. He said that they would need a foam mannequin that matched Lily’s height and form as well. As Lena made the request over the phone, Orth’s voice sounded just as strange as it had this morning. Still, he agreed to the favor and told her that he would have everything ready by the time she arrived.
The drive through the dust cloud took forty-five minutes. They found Orth waiting by his office door. Orth seemed more than surprised to see Cobb with her. But after a moment’s hesitation, he led them down the hall to a room with sinks and lab tables that hadn’t yet been furnished with equipment.
Lena glanced at the mannequin, then stepped over to the lab table where Orth had laid out the girl’s clothing. Cobb walked by her and picked up Lily’s boots. Feeling the weight of them in his hands, he passed them over to Lena.
“Tell me what you see, Gamble. And then maybe we’ll talk.”
Orth didn’t seem to understand what was going on. Nor did Lena, although she immediately remembered the clip Vaughan had shown her of Cobb on the witness stand. He had been holding one of Lily’s boots when he lost his composure and said he needed a glass of water. She thought it might have been the right boot, but wasn’t certain.
She set the left boot down on the table and began with the right. Nothing about the boot seemed out of the ordinary. The leather wasn’t scratched or stained. The lining remained free of any marks.
And then she turned it over. She picked up the left boot, glanced at the sole, then discarded it.
Lily Hight’s right ankle had been broken during the attack. And now she could see how it had happened. The sole of her right boot wasn’t just worn. It looked like someone had blasted away the rubber with a high-speed grinder.
She could feel Cobb’s eyes on her. She knew that they had never left her. When she looked up at his face-his hardened, brutal face-he nodded slightly and it felt like an electric shock working across her shoulder blades.
“Lily was trapped in the passenger seat of a moving car,” she said. “She was trying to get out. Trying to escape. That’s how she broke her ankle. In a moving car.”
Orth took the boot for a look of his own and seemed stunned. Cobb sat down on a stool and began rubbing his knees.
“I was on the stand when I noticed,” he said. “I saw it and knew that I’d fucked up. But we need to make sure of something, and I couldn’t do it after the trial without people noticing.”
“Make sure of what?” Orth asked.
Cobb didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked the SID supervisor to dress the mannequin in Lily’s T-shirt and blouse and place it in a sitting position on the table. Lena suddenly realized what Cobb was up to.