Ali nodded. Julian was in the mountains east of Escondido. If you passed Julian and continued on over that particular range, you came out north of Brawleyand near what was considered to be more of a back-door entrance into Mexico through Calexico. But going that way was anything but direct. Ali suspected Jake was probably right in terms of people not thinking he'd attempt to go that way. There would be far more focus on the main I-5 corridor and far less on secondary routes.
She wondered how closely Jake had been following the situation on the ground as the takedowns happened and whether or not he had any idea that most of the Joaquin organization along with Tracy McLaughlin and Roseanne had all been taken into custody.
"Sounds like you're headed the same place Roseanne is," Ali ventured casually. "And considering she knows all about you and Amber, I doubt she'll be thrilled to see you when you show up."
"You know about Oaxaca?" Jake demanded. "How?"
Ali hadn't known where they were headed in Mexico exactlybut now she did. And she also knew from Jake's reaction that he had no idea Roseanne had been placed under arrest.
"Roseanne told me," Ali said, goading just to see how he'd react to the news. "She called me because she needed cash in a hurry and wanted to unload some of her jewelry. I took a few pieces off her hands."
"But she's still all right?"
"You mean have your friends the Joaquins caught up with her? Not yet."
From the dismayed look on Jake's face, Ali knew he was taken aback. "How do you know so much about all this?" he wanted to know.
Ali decided to choose a Joaquinany Joaquinto turn into a fall guy. "Reynaldo," Ali said. "He's made a deal with the Feds. From what I hear, he's giving them an earful and spilling his guts about everything that's been going on around here. By morning the whole organization will be in custody. You sure you want to be the last man standing?"
Once again Jake waved the gun in her direction. "Why are we still sitting here?" he demanded. "I told you to drive."
Ali's phone rang just then, startling them both. "Don't answer," Jake began, but Ali already had, hoping beyond hope the caller would be Dave and that she would somehow be able to let him know what was going on.
"Ms. Reynolds?" an unfamiliar male voice asked.
"Yes."
"I'm so sorry to disturb you at such a late hour. My name is Fred Macon. You know, with Three Palms, the mortuary?"
Ali struggled to conceal her disappointment. "What can I do for you, Mr. Macon?"
"Your husband's remains have just been transported to our facility here. There seems to be some confusion with the paperwork. I had been told that April Gaddis was the person to be consulted about services and so forth, but it's been brought to my attention that Ms. Gaddis is also deceased at this time, and since yours is the only other contact number available to us amp;"
"It's well after midnight, Mr. Macon," Ali pointed out. "Do we really need to have this discussion right now? Can't we plan my husband's funeral during daylight hours?"
"Well, yes, certainly," Fred Macon said quickly. "There's one check mark on the form that wasn't properly handled over in Riverside, however, and it would be a big help to all of us here if we could get that one straightened out as soon as possible."
"What check mark?" Ali asked.
"Embalming," Fred Macon said. "It would be helpful to us to know whether or not you intend to have Mr. Grayson's remains embalmed."
Paul had died on Thursday night. It was now edging toward dawn on Tuesday morning. That went a long way to explaining Mr. Macon's middle-of-the-night urgency. Embalming was probably long overdue.
"By all means," Ali said.
"Thank you," Fred said. "Thank you so much. So I can note on the file that you gave me a verbal authorization to do so over the phone?"
"Yes."
"And I can let the office know that you'll be in touch to finalize arrangements for the services tomorrow amp;later on today, actually?"
"That, too," Ali told him.
"And, if you'll pardon my asking. Our information about Ms. Gaddis didn't come through what you would call official channels. I just happened to see it on the news and made the connection. Will you be handling arrangements for her as well? If a joint service is required"
"No," Ali said. "I believe someone else will be in charge of that."
"Oh," Fred said. He sounded disappointed, as though he had somehow missed the opportunity to drum up some extra nightshift business. Ali wondered if perhaps he actually made a commission. "All right then," he added. "Thanks so much, and again, I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night."
"That's quite all right," Ali said.
She ended the call. "The mortuary," she explained to Jake. "Calling about Paul's services. You already knew he was dead when you came to court on Friday, didn't you?" she added.
"I said drive," Jake said, but she noted a lack of conviction in his voice, and that uncertainty gave her courage.
"No," she said suddenly. "We're not going anywhere. I think you know who the guilty party is. I want to know who killed Paul and why."
"Ali, I'm telling you," Jake said menacingly. "If I have to shoot you, I will. Don't make me do it."
The window on Ali's side of the car was still open. With a speed that surprised her and caught Jake totally flat-footed, Ali shut off the ignition, extracted the car key, and flung it out through the open window. She welcomed the tiny whisper of a splash as the leather-topped key landed in the nearby swimming pool and sank to what she knew was the bottom of the diving end.
Jake heard it, too, and was outraged. "You bitch!" he screamed at her. "Are you nuts? What the hell are you thinking? Now we'll never get out of here."
That's the whole idea, Ali thought.
"Maybe it's time you thought about calling the cops and turning yourself in," she suggested.
"Goddamn it!" he roared furiously. "Get out! Get the hell out of this car! I was working trying to hot-wire Paul's Land Rover when you showed up. It's a lot harder than it looks, but I almost had it. Once I get it running, we'll take that instead. Go on! Move it. You're driving."
Ali did as she was told. She moved. She was headed for the Land Rover when a new set of headlights rounded the last curve on Robert Lane and stopped just outside the gate.
Ali's heart quickened within her. She was sure the new arrival had to be Dave, that once again he had somehow ridden to her rescue. Then she heard Chris's voice.
"Mom?" he called. "Is that you? The gate is closed, and I don't have a clicker. Come let me in."
Ali's insides lurched. It wasn't Dave at all. It was her son. Her baby.
Jake grabbed Ali's arm from behind. She felt the barrel of the gun press into her back. "We're coming to you," Jake called. "Stay right where you are. I have a gun, and I'm not afraid to use it. If you move or make so much as a sound, your mother dies. Understand?"
They came around the corner of the pool house to the spot where Ali could see Chris standing beside Edie's idling Olds.
She wanted to urge him to run. Or to tumble down the bank of lush pampas grass her neighbors had allowed to flourish on the steep hillside. But with the gun pressed against her spine, and with her arm twisted almost up to her shoulder, she said nothing. It would be bad enough if Jake shot her. The idea that he might hurt Chris was unthinkable.
At last they reached the gatepost. "Open it," Jake ordered, propelling her forward.
Ali punched the keypad, and the gate swung open.
"In," Jake said, waving his weapon in the direction of Chris's car. "You drive. Your mother and I will sit in back."
"Mom," Chris asked. "Did he hurt you? Are you all right?"
"Shut up," Jake said.
Chris did as he was told, too. He shut up and got back into the driver's seat while Jake heaved Ali into the car and across the backseat. He shoved her hard enough that her shoulder smashed painfully into the door on the far side.