Blood Money (9 page)

Not that it mattered.

As long as everything went according to
plan, she’d be out of his life before he had a chance to think
about how much he liked having her around.

CHAPTER NINE

“Time to go,” Kelton said. “Are you
ready?”

Jessica nodded and they headed towards the
garage.

The second half of the evening had been much
less troublesome than the first; they had killed the last hour
before the meeting by talking about relatively benign subjects such
as music and literature.

Kelton opened the door and they both got
into the car. Once in the driver’s seat, he fastened his seat belt,
then reached up and pressed the button on the garage-door opener
attached to the sun visor.

He waited until the door was completely
open, then started to back out. Once clear of the garage, he
pressed the button again and the door started to close behind
them.

They were three-quarters of the way out of
the driveway when a large, black, familiar-looking SUV pulled in
and skidded to a stop, blocking their exit.

Kelton slammed on the brakes and kept his
eyes locked on the rearview.

The driver’s side door opened. Out of the
SUV came an enormous, heavily-muscled man dressed in a suit with
the jacket still buttoned. A bodyguard. And Kelton had a pretty
good idea who he worked for.

Kelton slammed the transmission into park.
“Stay in the car.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jessica
said.

“Just lock the doors and sit tight,” Kelton
said. “I’ll take care of this.” He opened the door and climbed out
before Jessica had a chance to say anything else.

The bodyguard stopped near the rear bumper
of Kelton’s car, about ten feet away. He was at least four inches
taller and 60 pounds heavier than Kelton. His face and neck were
puffy from years of steroid use and his hair was cut short. His
small, angry, blood-shot eyes were bouncing.

“You need to come with me,” he said in a
surprisingly high-pitched voice. “Someone wants to have a talk with
you.”

“Let me guess,” Kelton said. “Jason
Preston?”

The bodyguard nodded.

“Tell him sorry, but I’m kind of busy right
now.”

“Suit yourself,” the big man said. He
started moving forward.

Kelton reached into his open jacket and
pulled the SigPro from its holster. “Not another step.”

The bodyguard stopped.

Kelton let his arm hang at his side,
purposely keeping the pistol in a neutral position. His only chance
of staying on schedule to meet up with Walter was to defuse this
situation without firing a shot, and he was going to do everything
in his power to do just that.

“You can go back to your master and tell him
I’ll drop by one of these days for a face-to-face, when I decide
the time is right.”

The man had a look on his face like he was
trying to determine if Kelton would actually shoot him.

“I will,” Kelton said. “Trust me.”

The big man nodded almost imperceptibly but
didn’t retreat.

Kelton was starting to wonder if he was
going to have to take action to break the stand-off when he heard a
shrill, familiar voice say, “Fuck this!”

The rear door on the passenger’s side of the
SUV flew open.

Jason Preston stumbled out, a small black
pistol extended in front of his chest in a double-handed grip. His
arms were visibly shaking and his eyes were wild. His left foot was
in a walking cast.

“Get back in the car, Mr. Preston,” the
bodyguard said. “Let me take care of this.”

“I’d do what he says,” Kelton added.

“No fucking way,” Jason said. “I got the
drop on you, man. I’m going to take you out.”

“Listen,” Kelton said, his arm still hanging
by his side, his voice still measured. “I don’t have time for this
crap right now, kid. I let you off easy last time. If you drop that
gun right now, I won’t kill you this time either.”

“Very fucking funny,” Jason said.
“Considering I have a fucking gun pointed at your fucking chest
right now.”

“Actually, it’s pointed a little to the left
of my belly button,” Kelton said. “But the way your hands are
shaking, by the time you actually pull the trigger, you’ll probably
miss me by ten feet. And even if you do manage to hit me, by the
time you try and get off your second round, you’ll be lying on the
ground in a pool of blood. Because I’m a big man, you see, and that
little nine-millimeter cap shooter won’t even faze me.”

Kelton raised the SigPro into view but
didn’t point it at Jason. He still had hopes of diffusing the
situation without firing any shots.

“However, this gun is a monster,” he said.
“And the +P ultra-hot loads I have in the clip will blow out your
spine. It’ll look like a bowling ball exploded in your chest. So
just put your gun down and climb back in your car and have your
bodyguard drive you back to your mansion.”

“You should listen to him, Mr. Preston,” the
big man said. “We’ll take care of this on a different day.”

Doubt crept into Jason’s eyes and he
swallowed hard. He glanced over at his bodyguard and the barrel of
his Glock started to drift downward. Then he turned his gaze back
to Kelton and the muscles in his arms tightened, his eyes opened
slightly wider and he leaned forward just a bit.

Kelton reacted without conscious thought,
lifting the gun, pointing it at Jason’s chest, and squeezing off a
round in one swift, smooth movement.

The roar of the gun shattered the still
evening.

Jason’s body jerked backwards as though
yanked from behind and he fell to the ground, a hideous moan
escaping from his throat. He had fired one wild shot at Kelton
milliseconds after taking the high velocity round directly in the
sternum but it had missed badly.

Kelton swiveled to his left, but the
bodyguard had taken off as soon as the shooting started. The big
man was rumbling down the sidewalk, half a block away. The sound of
sirens was already audible; one of the neighbors must have seen the
situation developing and called the cops.

Kelton put the SigPro away and climbed into
his truck. Jason’s SUV was still blocking the driveway, but that
didn’t matter. Kelton cranked the wheel to the right and reversed
until he was perpendicular to the driveway, then spun the wheel
back around, slammed the transmission into drive, and drove across
the front lawn.

“Hang on,” he said as the truck slammed
through the bushes, over the sidewalk, and into the street.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jessica
said.

“Just some leftovers from a prior job.”

“Just? How can you consider that
confrontation to be ‘just’ anything? You killed that kid.”

“Damn right,” Kelton said. They turned left
at the first intersection they came to. “And I should have done it
the first time I ran across him. Would have been a hell of a lot
less messy, particularly to our current situation.”

“So you’re a hitman too? Funny, you didn’t
mention that earlier.”

“No. I’m a vigilante. But different jobs
call for different responses.”

“And what about that kid’s situation called
for that particular response?”

“He was a sexual predator,” Kelton said.
“Thirty-seven girls, by his own count. He’d drug them, bring them
to his house, rape them, then leave them by the side of the road
after he was done.”

Jessica’s mouth was closed, her features
drawn tight.

“The night I broke into his house, he had
one lying unconscious on his bed and was positioning his cameras to
get the best angle to film her. He was just about to—”

“Okay,” Jessica said. “Enough.”

“You sure?” Kelton said. “Because I can get
more detailed if you like.”

“No,” Jessica said. “I get it.”

“Good, because I really should focus my
attention on the situation at hand.”

As if on cue, the sound of sirens grew
louder. A few seconds later, a San Diego Police cruiser came up
behind them. Kelton pulled over to the side and let the cop pass.
The cruiser sped past him without slowing, and turned left at the
next intersection, apparently heading towards the scene of the
shooting.

After the cruiser disappeared, Kelton pulled
away from the curb and continued on, careful to stay under the
speed limit. He figured they had no more than two minutes before
the police got enough information from his neighbors to put an APB
out on them and his truck. He intended to get as far away as he
could during that time.

“So what do we do now?” Jessica asked.

“Get the hell outta Dodge.”

“And our little meeting with Walter?”

“That remains to be seen,” Kelton said.
“I’ll call him as soon as we clear the area and we’ll take it from
there.”

Jessica nodded, her face registering slight
disappointment.

Kelton was about to tell her not to worry,
that it would all work out fine, when he again heard sirens growing
near. Then, two intersections ahead, another police cruiser turned
the corner onto their street and came towards them. Again the
cruiser drove past without slowing, also apparently heading towards
the house. Kelton took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He
heard Jessica do the same.

The cop flipped a bitch.

“Shit,” Kelton said. He checked his rearview
mirror and saw the police car gaining on them, but he kept his
speed hovering right at the limit.

“What now?” Jessica said.

“We’ll go for a little ride along the
surface streets,” Kelton said. “Cops don’t like high-speed chases.
He’ll call for help, eventually a helicopter will get involved. If
we don’t do something drastic, they’ll keep their distance, follow
us around for a while and try and wait us out.”

Kelton passed a slow-moving VW Bug, took a
right on Broadway, then a quick left on Park. Working out a plan as
they went along, he said, “We’ll head on up to Balboa Park. Take to
our feet.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “If we stay in the car, we’ve got
no chance.”

“But on our feet, we do?” Jessica said.
“Doesn’t sound like much of a plan to me.”

“It’s our only hope. Balboa Park is huge—the
entire San Diego Police force would have trouble completely locking
it down. Plus there are a couple hundred buildings, tons of
shrubbery, four different canyons, and lots of ways to get out. And
it’s usually pretty empty out there this time of night. We should
be able to get where we need to be without being seen by any
witnesses.”

“But won’t the cops bring out dogs?”

“Eventually,” Kelton said. “But we won’t be
around by then. We’ll be out of the area before they even start to
mobilize an effective search.”

They crossed over Interstate 5, then passed
the on-ramp to the 163 freeway. They were less than two minutes
from Balboa park, and even though two cop cars were now on their
tail, there were no helicopters involved yet. It looked like they
were going to make it.

“We’re almost there,” Kelton said. “Get
ready to jump out as soon as I stop the car.”

Jessica nodded her head. “All right, but I
still don’t like this idea.”

“You got a better one?”

“No.”

“Then just concentrate on keeping up with
me.”

CHAPTER TEN

Kelton turned hard into one of the many
parking lots connected to the outskirts of Balboa Park. He ignored
a sign marked
OFFICIAL VEHICLES ONLY
and headed down the
access road towards the center of the park. He looked back and saw
that the first police car had overshot the driveway, but the second
one made the turn and was starting to gain on them.

“Listen closely,” Kelton said. “When we
stop, jump out as fast as you can and follow me.”

“Okay.”

“Whatever you do, keep your eyes on me.
Don’t look back. And don’t worry about the cops. I know this area
well. We’ll be fine if you can keep up.”

They followed the narrow, winding access
road as it snaked behind buildings, through larger parking lots and
past parked cars. It finally came to an end at a loading dock in
the rear of one of the many Spanish-style buildings that dotted the
grounds in this area of the park, known as The Embarcadero.

“Here we go,” Kelton said. He slammed on the
brakes and cranked the steering wheel. The truck spun 90 degrees
and came to a stop just short of the loading dock.

He jumped out of the vehicle, ran around the
back end, and sprinted for the small walkway between the buildings
to his right, dodging surprised pedestrians the whole time. He
could hear the patter of Jessica’s footsteps behind him as he
ran.

They had just reached the end of the walkway
when Kelton heard the screech of tires behind them, followed by the
slamming of doors and shouting as the policemen exited their
car.

Kelton reached the corner of the building,
turned left, then quickly left again, into a large courtyard. He
ran through the courtyard, dodging a young couple pushing a
stroller, then made another left after exiting out the other side
of the building. Now with the building between them and the
pursuing policemen, they followed the curving cement path towards
the large, outdoor theatre a couple hundred yards away.

Kelton could hear sirens wailing from
somewhere in front of them, but was unable to see the unmistakable
lights that would accompany them, so he knew there were no cop cars
presenting an immediate danger. The path continued to curve, taking
them back behind the building they had just left, which allowed
them to continue running without worrying about being seen by the
policemen at their rear. The evening was cloudy, and the light
meager, allowing them relatively safe passage through the streets
of the park as long as they kept away from the well-lit
buildings.