Tags:
thriller,
Action,
hollywood,
serial killer,
angel,
stalker,
bodyguard,
Carrie,
Ty,
Raven Lane,
LA,
Ryan Lock
staying at a friend’s last night. I need to go pick him up.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Seventeen.’
‘He doesn’t drive?’
‘You’ll understand when you meet him,’ Raven said softly, smiling at Lock.
‘Is there anyone else, or is it just you and your brother who live here? It’s important that I know.’
‘It’s just us.’
‘No boyfriends?’
Raven peered over her sunglasses at him. ‘I’m kind of burned-out on men.’
‘Okay then.’ Lock squared his shoulders, bracing himself to face the squall of media attention. ‘Wait here. I’ll bring the car over.’
The drive gave Lock an opportunity to talk to Raven about the stalker, and to begin making some basic arrangements. Guarding her twenty-four-seven, even for a short period, was going to be a challenge.
If he’d been a cop, he would have tried to brow-beat her into going into hiding, not that it would have done much good, judging by her attitude to it so far. But he wasn’t a cop, he was a close-protection operative, and the reason people hired CPOs was to keep them safe while they went about their daily business.
To their left they could glimpse the large white buildings of the Getty Center up on the hill. Even though she lived less than seven minutes’ drive from the place, Raven was staring at it like she was noticing it for the first time. Lock took the relative calm inside the car as his cue.
‘So,’ he began, ‘tell me how this all got started.’
She exhaled, and ran a hand through her jet-black hair while the sun caught the deep violet of her eyes. ‘In my business, you can attract weirdos. I mean, dancers and porn stars are like freak magnets, right?’
‘I know you’ve been through this all before with the cops, but the more I know the better I can protect you.’
Raven ran her hands down her face and settled herself. ‘Okay, so I get a lot of letters, you know?’
‘To your home?’
She shook her head. ‘No. And I never talk to anyone about where I live. I don’t have guys back there either. Not with Kevin.’
‘That’s your brother?’
‘That’s right. So anyway’ – she was quick to shift subjects, Lock noticed – ‘I have a company. RLC. The Raven Lane Company. That’s where I run my fan club from. Most of my mail goes to a mailbox I’ve set up.’
It was all very corporate. The more she talked, the more Lock was getting a picture of someone who was very much in control. He’d always assumed that people in Raven’s line of work were flaky, but she seemed to approach the entire thing primarily as a money-making enterprise. ‘You said most of your mail. Where does the rest go?’
Raven dug into her clutch purse, pulled out a pack of gum, and offered a stick to Lock. He declined. ‘If I’m dancing at a club, people send me stuff there. Like the note.’
‘Was there anything else with the note that led you to believe it was the same person who’d killed Cindy Canyon?’
Raven sank down an inch in the passenger seat. ‘That was her name? The girl in my trunk?’
‘Her stage name, yeah. Did you know her?’
‘I’d heard of her.’
‘Ever met her?’ Lock pressed.
She rolled her eyes. ‘No. Jesus, what’s with all these questions? Are you a bodyguard or a cop?’
Lock sure as hell wasn’t a cop and disliked the term ‘bodyguard’ so he shrugged off the question. ‘The more I know about this situation, the more effective I can be in keeping you safe. Before the body turned up in your car—’ He stiffened. For the past few minutes a Blue Honda Accord had been behind them on the freeway. He had accelerated and switched lanes and it had followed suit. Now, as he slowed and indicated that he was leaving at the next exit, its blinker had come on.
‘What’s the problem?’ Raven asked.
‘Blue Honda about three cars back. It’s been tailing us since we left your house.’
9
Raven turned in her seat to take a look but Lock caught her arm. ‘Best if they don’t know that