Insidious (FBI Thriller 20)

Blinker waved that away. “Bad luck, that’s all it was. Who knew you’d be out so late tonight? And that first time, I didn’t know Missy had an FBI agent sleeping in her second bedroom.”

Daniel said, “You’ve already forgotten Missy chased you down in Las Vegas?”

Blinker puffed up like a proud papa. “Yes, she did. She’s amazing. I let her catch me.”

Cam said, “Let’s focus. Tell us everything about this guy you can remember, Blinker, every detail.”

“Okay, I remember I was getting a bag of Cheetos from that 24/7 market on PCH when I first saw him. Missy was in the store buying some stuff and I was hanging around, seeing what she’d do. When she left, I noticed him on the street. I saw he was looking at her. Even though he was keeping his distance, I knew he was following her, so, yeah, I tucked in behind him, watched him. He trailed her nearly all the way back to her cottage, then he waited a couple of minutes, you know, looking around, and left.

“I saw him again the evening before Missy left, not that I knew then she was leaving town. He was wearing the same hoodie, jeans, running shoes—that’s how I recognized him. I waited to see what he was up to. As I said, he cased Missy’s cottage, maybe trying to get a look at her. I left after he did, haven’t seen him again.

“That’s all I remember about him.” Blinker stared at them. “Hey, do you think he’s the sick dude who’s killing off the young actresses?” Blinker looked about to faint. “Do you think he was planning on killing Missy?”

“It’s very possible,” Cam said.

Blinker weaved where he stood. Cam laid her hand on his arm to steady him. He whispered, “If Missy hadn’t left for Las Vegas, he might have killed her, like all the others? Someone else was killed in Las Vegas when Missy was there, isn’t that right? Maybe he couldn’t get to Missy, so he killed someone else? That means I saved her, right?” He pulled away from Cam, stood straight, shoulders back. “Imagine that, me, John Bayley, mild-mannered bond trader. You won’t forget I picked him out of your photo lineup, will you?”

“No, we won’t forget,” Daniel said. “You did good, Blinker.”

Blinker sat down hard on his sofa. “This is scary, dude. You’ll keep Missy safe, won’t you? You’ll get that guy? Will you tell Missy how helpful I was? Maybe she’ll be grateful and—”

Daniel leaned down, gave his face a pat. “Bon voyage, Blinker. Have a nice life.”

64

* * *

42 LASSITER AVENUE

SANTA MONICA

FRIDAY NIGHT, 11:00 P.M.

It took far too long to find the house Doc and Deborah had rented together because Cam and Daniel didn’t have the address on file. They’d gone to Doc’s old apartment, a half a block from the hospital, only to find it empty. It took fast-talking the hospital administrator to get them to the right address. Finally, Cam and Daniel pulled up a block from the new rental, Arturo right behind them. Their house one of many ranch-style homes built in the seventies, well maintained, its front yard lush with oaks and palm trees. Lights shined in many of the houses, and canned laughter sounded from a TV comedy through an open window. Doc’s house was dark.

Arturo said, “With any luck, he’s already in bed asleep.”

Cam said, “I hope you’re right, but there’s a good chance he isn’t here. He’s not stupid, he had to know today didn’t go well for him, that we were putting things together, Blinker aside. Maybe he figured he’d have to run someday, and he decided not to wait.”

Daniel said, “No sign of Elman and his group. I say we go get him.”

Arturo grabbed Cam’s sleeve. “Look, in the side window—flames! Doc might be in there. Cam, call 911.”

Arturo and Daniel ran to the front door, Cam on their heels, her cell phone to her ear. The door was locked. Daniel stepped back and kicked the door handle. The door shuddered, held. He kicked it again and the door flew open. Arturo called back as he ran into the house. “Stay here, I’ll check the bedrooms!”

“No way,” Daniel said. “Cam, we’ve got this. Keep a lookout for Doc.” He took off after Arturo.

It seemed like forever but only a few moments passed. She wanted to go in after them but held herself back. What could she do to help them? The house was going up quickly, heat and smoke was pouring out at her. She heard sirens in the distance and prayed. She heard Arturo yell. She couldn’t just stand there. She started into the house as Daniel came staggering out, carrying Arturo over his shoulder and dragging an unconscious man behind him. Arturo’s jacket was on fire, flames leaping up from his back. Cam slapped at the flames as Daniel dropped the unconscious man and threw Arturo onto his back on the grass, smothering out the last of the flames. “He’s inhaled a lot of smoke.” He slapped Arturo’s face. “Come on, you badass, breathe, no way do you want your ex-wife to get your pension. Arturo!”

Arturo heaved out a breath, choked, coughed as Daniel jerked him upright and pounded his back. Finally, through the coughing, he wheezed out, “What, Montoya, were you going to put your tongue down my throat?”

Daniel lightly tapped his face. “You wish, Loomis. Can you breathe okay?”

“Well, pretty good, but my back feels like it’s on fire.”

Cam pulled off his still-steaming jacket, ripped away his partly burned shirt and examined his back in the streetlight. It was bright red. She was afraid to touch him.

“Let’s get them farther away from the flames first,” Daniel said. “First Arturo. No, dude, don’t you even think about trying to move.” He and Cam pulled him beneath an acacia tree near the sidewalk. He let them, his head hanging forward, breathing fast.

“How bad is it?”

“Not bad, only a little red,” Cam said. Arturo hoped she wasn’t lying through her teeth, but it hurt so much he figured she probably was. He didn’t move.

“I’m okay, see to that guy we pulled out. He’s in worse shape than I am.”

Daniel pulled the other man farther from the house and fell to his knees beside him. “He’s alive, breathing. He’s got some bad burns, and a head wound that’s still bleeding.” He grabbed Arturo’s discarded shirt and pushed down on the gash, relieved to hear the wail of sirens.