Wen grimaced. “Glad I don’t have to campaign for my job every four years.”
“Four years might be more than enough.”
Wen, who had been staring at her phone, looked up. “Ellett texted. We got a relay from a private security firm. Someone hitthe panic button at Cara Campbell’s house. She was there five minutes ago.”
SIXTY-NINE
CARA
If you haven’t got a past yet, get a Mach 1. Now.
—1969 Mustang Ad
Cara scrambled over the passenger-side door and practically fell into the Porsche. “Floor it!”
Stephanie gunned the engine and Cara struggled to fasten her seat belt as the car surged up the hill fast enough to pin her into her seat.
“I’ve wanted to do this ever since Noel sent me to the Porsche Track Experience in Carson,” Stephanie said as she navigated a turn at what had to be eighty miles per hour. “What happened back there?”
“Taylor happened.”
“Holy shit!” Stephanie glanced over. “From the way you look, I’m guessing you pulverized that spoiled little brat.”
Cara couldn’t yet feel any of the new scrapes crisscrossing her already bruised and battered arms and legs. “Thankfully, I didn’t have to.”
“You didn’t even rough her up?”
“When I told her I had Karl’s gun, Taylor pushed the panic button and took off out the front door. I took off out the back. I climbed the chain-link fence and came through the Oddens’ rose bushes.”
“Do you? Have the gun?”
“I left it in the safe. It was too tempting to use it on her.”
Cara knew that was what Stephanie wanted to hear, but she didn’t blame Taylor for being scared. She didn’t even really blame her for believing Cara killed her father. She had established her brand without thinking about its effect on Taylor. She had loved him just as much as Cara did.
“Right or left on Mulholland?” Stephanie asked, as they neared the crest of the hill.
“Left, and then south on the 405.”
Stephanie tossed her phone into Cara’s lap. “Key it into my GPS.”
“It’s better if you don’t know where I’m going. You’re going to need plausible deniability.”
“Too late for that. My phone started blowing up ten minutes before you jumped in the car. Unknown number, so I assume it’s law enforcement. I let it ring through to voicemail.”
“Give me your passcode.”
As Stephanie slowed down just enough to merge onto the 405, Cara unlocked the phone and saw one voicemail followed by five missed calls, all from the same number. She pressed play and held the phone hard against her ear so she could hear over the wind and traffic.
“This is US Marshal AJ Wen calling for Stephanie van der Lind. We’ve received a report that you may have made contact with the fugitive Cara Campbell. It is imperative that you return this call immediately.”
Cara lowered the phone and leaned back against the headrest, staring up at the smoggy blue LA sky. “I never should have dragged you into this.”
“I’m not concerned in the least. Nothing’s going to happen to me because you’re innocent.”
If only that were true.
Stephanie checked her rearview mirror and changed lanes as the traffic slowed. Moments later, the 405 was at a standstill. They hadn’t even reached Santa Monica Boulevard.
