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of money to find his family? Or had
he been honest with me when I’d been at his estate? I didn’t have enough
evidence to go either way yet, and I hadn’t brought the card with his phone
number on it along with me. I couldn’t have called him, anyway. I had no idea
what I’d done with my cell phone; I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d
seen it.
    It could
wait. I’d be in touch with Davies soon, and if I found out he’d lied to
me…well, I wasn’t the type to pout and stomp my feet.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
     
    I drove
home, enjoying the warm feeling Heather’s tequila had left in my stomach. It
occurred to me that I’d be able to afford good liquor once I’d finished this
job. I’d been drinking store-brand rotgut for so long I’d forgotten what the
good stuff tasted like. It didn’t matter much in the end. Alcohol had the same
effect whether you were paying four dollars per bottle or four hundred, but if
you were going to kill yourself drinking, you might as well do it with some
style.
    Once I
was back home I decided I didn’t feel like navigating the Mustang into my
cluttered garage, so I parked at the curb instead. I’d need the car in the
morning, anyway. Or in the afternoon. Whenever I woke up.
    Maybe
I’d drive up to Solana Beach and confront Davies with what I’d found. It was
hard to read people on the phone, but if he were lying to me in person, I was
pretty sure I’d be able to tell. In the old days I’d been a walking lie
detector. I knew my senses were nowhere near as finely tuned as they’d been
when I was on the police force, but I was willing to bet they’d still be good
for something.
    As I was
heading up the path toward my front door I noticed a black Lincoln pulling in
to park behind my car. One of Davies’s people? Had Emerson come to get an
update? The  timing was uncanny, unless he had been waiting here for me. But in
that case, why hadn’t he been parked in front of the house when I’d arrived?
    I
started to unlock my front door, but fumbled with the keys and dropped them. As
I knelt down I saw Todd getting out of the driver’s side of the car. He was out
of his chauffeur’s uniform, having changed into jeans and a black leather
jacket. Had he come to take me up to see Davies? There was no way in hell I was
doing that tonight. The only thing I was interested in right now was sleep.
    Todd had
a determined look on his face as he started up the path toward me, his hands
tucked in his pockets. What was that about?
    I turned
the key in the door’s lock and pushed the door open half an inch. Then I looked
back at my visitor. “Todd, I really don’t have time for…”
    Todd
took his hands out of his pockets. In his right hand he held a small automatic
pistol. He raised it toward me and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet into
the door just behind my head.
    The
noise from the shot cut off all the sound around me and left a ringing in my
ears. Startled, I turned and looked at the hole Todd had just put in my door. A
tiny curl of smoke rose from the wood where the bullet had gone in. What the
hell was Todd thinking about? Was he actually trying to kill me?
    Seriously?
    I looked
back at Todd. His eyes were wide with fear, but I could see his finger tightening
on the trigger again. His second shot went wide, farther off target than the
first.
    And then
the adrenaline hit me like a bolt of lightning. I turned and kicked my door
open the rest of the way, then dove inside the house as Todd’s third shot went
over my head, close enough that I could hear the little pop as it passed
by my ear. I landed hard on the carpet and spun around to kick the door shut.
That would buy me about two seconds, if I was lucky. I scrambled to my feet and
ran for the kitchen. I had knives in the kitchen. Knives would be good right
now.
    The door
burst open behind me and Todd fired twice more, neither shot coming close to
me. I was willing to bet this was the first time he had