The Night Crew

When he hung up, she rolled over on her back and looked at him, caught his eyes trying to look away. 'China?'

'Yeah. She's dead. They found her body out in Glendale. That was Wyatt, and.'

'What?'

'She's pretty cut up.'

Anna jumped out of bed: 'Let's get over there.'

'Anna.'

'I need to see this,' she insisted.

'Why?' he asked, exasperated.

'Because. So get dressed.' Because she was storing it up. Because she was holding on to these crimes, all these insults, squeezing them into herself.

She drove: Jake was so reluctant that she finally got the keys and climbed into the front seat, and he caught up and piled into the passenger side, and she took them over the hills and east into Glendale. On the way, she called Wyatt, got switched around, and was finally left with a promise that he'd call her. He did, five minutes later:

'Where are you?'

'On the way.'

'I don't think you should.'

'I can identify her,' Anna said. 'I saw her twelve hours ago. Are you there?' she asked.

'On the way.'

'See you there.' And she rang off, before he could object.

'There', was a cluster of vehicles with light bars, a half-dozen men looking down a highway embankment: something she saw every night, now harsher in the light of day.

Wyatt hadn't arrived yetshe didn't recognize any of the cops at the scene. They waved her on down the road, but she stopped, and when the cop came up, she said, 'We're supposed to meet Detective Wyatt here, from Santa Monica. He's on the task force: I talked to China last night, the woman you think is down there. He wanted me to see if I could identify her.'

'Okay. just pull up to the head of the line.'

She drove up past the last car and turned to Harper: 'Are you coming?' she asked.

'Yeah. You better leave the gun in the car, though. They'll spot it and take it away from you.'

'Good thought.' She took the gun out of her jacket pocket and pushed it under the front seat. 'Let's go.'

China was halfway down the embankment, wrapped in the dress she'd been wearing the night before. She'd landed on her face, apparently, but the gravel on the embankment hadn't done any real damage. It'd cut, but there was no blood to run; the cuts looked like scratches in beeswax.

Anna and Harper dropped carefully down the embankment, escorted by a young uniformed cop who watched their faces as they went down, down past the foot with a sockwhat used to be called an ankletand the foot without one, with the thighs impolitely apart, unguarded by underwear, the trails of dark pubic hair, down to the face that had bitten into the gravel.

'Yeah,' Anna said, and Harper said, 'Goddammit.' Anna said to the young cop, 'That's China Lake. She's an actress. Was.'

'Do you know next of kin?' the young cop asked.

'No, but. I could find out.'

'Anything you could get, we'd appreciate.'

'Yeah.' She never looked back at the body, but she held the image of China's face to her heart. Squeezing it. Filing the memories with the hate.

'Do you want to wait for Wyatt?' Harper asked, as they got back to the top of the embankment.

'What for?' Anna asked bitterly. 'The guy couldn't find his butt with both hands and a searchlight?'

'Not fair,' Harper said, as he followed Anna back to the car.

'Fuck fair,' she said.

'All right, princess. So now what?'

'We gotta go back to my place, so I can get my car. I don't want you ferrying me all over the place.'

'Anna, I'm happy to.'

'I know, I know, but I want my car,' she said. And she added, 'I'm sorry, Jake. But China.'

The midday traffic wasn't too bad, and they made it back to Anna's in a half hour. She backed the Toyota out of the garage, as Harper waited in the street, then followed him out, up the San Diego, over the hills to his house. Whey they got there, she said, 'You know, I forgot something. I'm gonna go away for a while.'

'I better come with you.'

'Nope. I'm doing this on my owndon't worry, I'll be okay.' She took in his face, softened, and said, 'Listen, I just want to drive around a while, by myself, and get my head straight. And see Creek at the hospital. I'll be careful. I've got this.' She patted the pistol in her pocket.

'Goddammit, Anna, you betterbe careful.'

He took her shoulders and kissed her, insistently; she let herself relax into the kiss, held it for a moment, then pushed him away. 'Hold that thought,' she said, 'I'll be back.'

He came out to watch her go, and just before she did, she ran the window down and said, 'He might have tracked us out hereso be careful yourself.'

'It's all private property, and people are pretty insistent about that. He'd have a hard time sneaking in, during the day, anyway,' Harper said. 'But I'll watch.'

Anna went back out the way she came, watching the rearview mirror. She had cars behind her, from time to time, but nothing that looked consistent. She continued back into town, to her house, went in, gathered a few clothes, stuck them in a leather satchel and carried the satchel out to the car.

'Anna, what's happening?' A voice from the sky, and she looked up.

'Hobie?'

'Come on up; we're having margaritas.'

'Aw, I'm on my way to see Creek.'

'How is he?' She could just see the top half of Hobie's moon face past the shingles on a dormer.

'Better, I guess. They said he had to sit still for a few days, but one of these days he'll be up.'

'That's great.'

'Listen, this jerk, this killer, the cops think he might be tracking me. If you or Jim see anyone around, take down some tag numbers, huh? I'm carrying my cell phone all the time, you've got the number.'

'Give it to me again.'

She gave him the number, and started out again, down the one-way street that took her out of the canal district, and out to the hospital. Watched the rearview mirror. Nothing that seemed furtive, nothing that seemed consistent. But Anna read thriller novels, and thought she could probably trail somebody all over L.A. without being spotted. You stay ten cars back, with traffic the way it was, and you'd never be spotted.

Of course, once he saw which way she was going, he might figure that she was heading for the hospital. There wasn't much on-street parking, he'd figure her for the ramp. She worked it out: and when the hospital came up, she turned in at the ramp, found a place on the third floor.

Put her pistol in her main pocket, her trigger finger wrapped around the front of the trigger guard so she wouldn't accidentally fire it. Checked the mirrors, got out and walked self-consciously to the hospital entrance.

She saw no one who seemed out of place, who seemed to be watching, who seemed at all interested in her.

Except Creek. When she walked into his room, Creek was on his feet, like a bear in a dressing gown, trailing plastic lines that went to a saline bottle hung from a three-wheeled pole. Pam Glass sat in a chair by the window, knitting.

Creek turned as Anna came in, and grinned, and she said, 'My God, what are you doing out of bed?' and looked at Glass for an answer.

'I'm getting better,' Creek said, but his voice was a croak, and his face still seemed gray.

'The doctor told him to,' Glass said, answering Anna.

'They're sure that's okay?' Anna asked Glass.

'They think it's great,' Glass said. 'As long as he doesn't overdo it.'

'"Overdo" is his middle name,' Anna said.

They discussed it for another fifteen seconds, Anna and Glass talking to each other, checking Creek like he was a defective car, until Creek said, 'Hey, am I the village idiot or something?'

'You're not that responsible,' Anna said. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. 'Jeez, I'm glad to see you up.'

'Where's Harper?' Creek asked. 'He's supposed to be watching you.'

'I had to get away for a little whileI'm being careful,' Anna said. To Glass: 'Have you heard the latest?'

Glass nodded: 'The actress. Brutal. They added a half-dozen guys to the task force, and there's gonna be some news about it.'