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“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” he interjected.

I picked up my glass. “But…I have a boyfriend. A gentleman I’ve been with for some time.”

I watched Simon’s confidence slide as I took a sip. Brian put Simon’s water on a cocktail napkin in front of him, pulling his now despondent gaze from me. He wrapped his hands around it and nodded with a tight-lipped grin. “I guess that doesn’t surprise me,” he said.

“I’m sorry if I threw water on your brave and confident approach,” I said softly. “I really am flattered.”

He laughed. “I guess it’s why I ordered water and not a drink, just in case this was too weird for you and I needed to make a quick getaway.”

“Simon, there’s no need to make a getaway. You’re more than welcome to join me. I just can’t be more than a friend. And to be honest, I find your accent charming. I’m more surprised that you actually followed me here.”

“You can’t win if you don’t gamble, right?” he said with a snicker. I totally got his reasoning, and I found it funny, considering we were in a casino.

Soon after our initial exchange, he had Brian bring him a glass of wine as well. When my dinner arrived, I asked him to tell me about himself, where he was from, and what his goals were. I did it because I didn’t want to spin any more lies about my fake journalist life, plus I was starved. I kept the conversation away from the missing women.

Luckily, Simon loved to talk and didn’t shy away from much. Before we knew it, we’d spent a good ninety minutes talking and laughing. When we left the restaurant, he asked for a friendly hug goodnight, which I gladly gave. We said our goodbyes, and I left for my hotel, feeling great after a satisfying meal and a friendly conversation with a guy from England.

It was Friday morning, and I needed to get back to San Francisco. I’d accomplished my goal of gathering more information for the SFPD, including identifying a person of interest. We needed more incriminating evidence against Chet than just my word about overhearing a conversation, though. There were two others I’d heard in that room, and I hoped we’d eventually find out who they were.

After I checked out, I had a light breakfast at the diner before heading back to San Francisco. I texted Jonesy to let him know I was hitting the road. Traffic on I-80 wasn’t heavy, which surprised me on a Friday with the weekend coming up. The weather was clear, and the forecast was for a warm eighty degrees. As I listened to the weather report on the radio, my mind wandered to my best friend Wynn, which made me chuckle. I figured the drive back would be pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

I had been about three hours out of Lake Tahoe and had just crossed the Carquinez Bridge spanning the strait, the water sparkling in the morning sunshine, when I noticed a large black Suburban coming up behind me at high speed. They had plenty of room to pass on my left, so I figured they’d simply speed on by, watching them change lanes.

As the Suburban sidled up next to my BMW, it crowded me further to the right, forcing me to hug the painted line along the shallow shoulder. I was alarmed, to say the least, and sped up. The black Suburban matched my acceleration as I leaned on my horn, thinking perhaps the driver didn’t know I was there.

I glanced up to see dark-tinted windows a good foot above mine, the Suburban's black finish distorting my reflection. My honking seemed to fall on deaf ears as they kept pushing me to the right. I figured my best course was to brake and let them speed by, but as I did, the Suburban swerved into me, hitting my front end and knocking my smaller BMW farther to the right. I tried to correct, but the metal guardrail screeched against the side of my car, finally giving way to the large embankment below. My right front tire slipped off the edge of the gravel bank, tipping my vehicle and sending it careening down the steep, heavily shrubbed hill.

Everything happened in slow motion. As I slipped off the edge of the embankment, my car tipped onto its side. The airbag went off with such force I saw a red blur, knowing it had hit me square in the nose. A coppery, metallic taste filled my mouth. My laptop, which had been on the passenger seat, took flight, knocking me on the forehead as it bounced around. My seatbelt kept me locked in place, but both the driver and passenger windows shattered into a shower of tempered glass.

The BMW spun and flipped again, end over end. My left arm hit something outside the open window. There was an audible snap, and I cried out in pain. Dirt, rocks, and debris filtered into the exposed interior, making me cough and spit blood. My left arm was useless, and the pain nearly made me pass out.

The car finally came to a stop against a swath of trees, upside down, the impact knocking the wind out of me. A sharp pain in my ribs flared as I tried to catch my breath. My head spun from the airbag's blunt force and my laptop, which blurred my vision. As I hung upside down, blood rushed to my head, causing more pain. I closed my eyes and grabbed my left arm to keep it from flopping over my head. My first instinct was to reach for my cellphone to call for help, but it had been resting in the console and was lost.

I only hoped someone had witnessed what had happened. That was my last thought as I relinquished myself to the dark void.

29

JONESY

After Craig texted me he was on his way back, Lieutenant Anderson, Sean, and I headed to the Palace Hotel to meet the pageant coordinators. Anderson took the lead as the special events security team leader. I told them I’d be undercover as an additional makeup artist, which again raised a few eyebrows. I told them to have faith, which made a couple of the women giggle. They told me the stylists would arrive tomorrow, and I should join their team then. Most of the contestants weren’t arriving until Sunday. We assured them that we planned to work with the pageant security team and that we were only there as backup. They relaxed a bit, especially after what had happened in Lake Tahoe.

I told Anderson that Sean and I wanted to do a backstage walkthrough to get a feel for how the hotel and prep areas were laid out. We spent the rest of the morning meeting the pageant security team and told them our plan after we went over where security would be stationed. They liked the idea of me going undercover with Sean as my backup.

It was almost twelve-thirty by the time we’d finished. Anderson suggested grabbing lunch to go since he needed to be back at the station. As soon as we got into the precinct, my phone buzzed, and I saw the ID coming from Highland Hospital in Oakland. I answered, not sure why they’d be calling.

“Detective Gabriel Jones?” the woman asked.

“Yes.”

“Detective, this is the trauma center at Highland Hospital in Oakland. There’s been an automobile accident involving Craig Bannon, and you’re listed as an emergency contact.”

I broke out in a cold sweat and ran to my desk, tossing my sandwich onto it. “Oh, God…what happened? How is he?” I blurted out, causing Sean to rush up, his brow pinched with concern.

“From what we understand, he went off an embankment in his car and landed about three hundred feet down from the highway. Fortunately, witnesses stopped and called 911. They found his ID and a medical card with your name on it. He’s stable but in the ICU. He’s pretty banged up, but he mumbled ‘Jonesy’ when he briefly woke up. I assume that’s you, since your last name is Jones?”

“Uh…yes. So Highland Hospital in Oakland, you said?”