No Legal Grounds (29 page)

Heather heard what sounded like an explosion. Then a
bang.
Then something else, another sound, a
whoosh.
What was going on?
In her dark world, nothing made sense. She had to be going

The bullet hit Sam in the left thigh.
The next shot would be to his head. He had no doubt. But Nicky didn’t shoot again.
Instead he paused in the doorway.
Several things reached Sam’s consciousness simultaneously. Fire. Flames heard and seen and felt around him.
Nicky had booby-trapped the place to burn up.
Nicky laughing. And turning his back.
He was leaving Sam to fry.
A jolt of adrenaline shot through him. He got up, ignoring all

pain.
He pushed off his aching legs and shot through the door. Nicky turned around, looked shocked, raised his hand. The gun.
Sam dove at Nicky’s middle. Heard the rush of air from Nicky’s

And drove Nicky back with his shoulder, back against a railing, and pushed again until Nicky fell backward, over the rail and to the ground below.

As flames began licking the walls, Sam knew he had only seconds to get downstairs.
Every step was an exercise in the raw will to live.
The fire was breaking out now, below and above. The stairs were catching flame.
Halfway down Sam stumbled, his legs no longer cooperating with his mind.
He caught himself on the rail. And looking down saw the inert body of Nicky Oberlin.
Nicky was going to burn.
Sam thought no one deserved that. At the same time he thought Nicky Oberlin did.
Using hands and arms, Sam made it to the bottom of the stairs and managed enough of a jump to get over the mushrooming fire.
He rolled onto the floor, which had not yet ignited. The walls were engulfed. Heat was increasing at a rapid rate.
Sam crawled to Nicky Oberlin, looked for the gun. It was on the floor a few paces away.
He grabbed a handful of Nicky’s shirt and shook it.
No response. Sam couldn’t tell if Nicky was dead or dazed.
He attempted to drag Nicky’s body. But with no strength in his legs, Sam couldn’t budge him.
The heat intensified.
Sam made himself stand up, made himself move one more time. He did not open the front door.
He fell through the screen.

Heather heard the crackling of fire.
What was happening? Was it the whole house?
She screamed as loudly as she could.
And again.
She needed to get out of this car. She needed to know what was

“Roz, you have to know where she is.” Linda tried to keep her voice calm over the phone, but it was a losing battle. It was past midnight and she could not sleep. Her sense of things being terribly out of control wouldn’t leave. And knowing Roz was a creature of the night, she had no qualms about contacting her at this hour.

“No lie, Mrs. Trask. She said she was gonna take off with this guy and — ”
“The record producer?”
“Yeah. His name’s Lundquist. He did our demo. He was hot for her. Everybody could tell.”
“Do you have any idea where they are?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Has she called you?”
“Uh-uh.”
Linda looked at the ceiling. “Is there anything else you can tell me that would help us find her?”
“I don’t think she wants to be found, Mrs. — ”
“That’s obvious. What can you tell us about this man, what’s his name?”
“Lundquist. His first name’s Charles. His nickname’s Scat.”
“Great. What else?”
“I don’t know. He’s done some producing. He seemed like a good place for us to start.”
“Does he have an office? Do you have his phone number?”
“We met him at a studio on Sunset. I guess he has an office somewhere. You could Google him. I did a little bit once.”
“Roz, would you mind doing that for me? I want a phone number and address. I think you can get the information faster than I can.”
“I’m s’posed to go somewhere — ”
“Please, Roz. We have to find her.”

“I think she’ll be okay, Mrs. T. She’s a lot more — ”
“Call me back, Roz, please.”
“All right.”
Linda paced and prayed. In the house, even with lights on, she

felt the oppression of shadows. Sam, Heather. Something bad was happening. If she didn’t have peace by the time the sun showed up, she would call the police.

Enough was enough.
Roz called back. “Whack,” she said.
“What is?”
“I was going around and I found this thing, said Lundquist was

going to go to Puerto Rico to set up a studio. He was leaving LA.” “He obviously didn’t.”
“But he never said anything. Anyway, here’s a number.” She gave

Linda a number in the 310 area code.
“Thanks, Roz.”
“Don’t worry, I’m telling you.”
Easier said than done.
Linda called the number. She got a recorded message, a man’s

voice, a little tinny and distant. “Hey, I’m gonna be outta town for a while, so just leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Keep it real.”
Beep.

Linda and Max pulled into the medical center just after ten
A
.
M
. The dry air hit Linda like a fist of dust. Inside, smells of antiseptic and pessimism confronted her.

Sam was in a fourth-floor room, with Heather sitting in a chair next to the bed. Both faces came alive as Linda walked in.
While Max rushed to Sam’s bedside, Heather embraced her mother. No words were exchanged. They didn’t seem necessary.
Linda went to Sam, who raised a hand to her. She took it. A tube ran from his elbow to an IV unit.
“Now will someone tell me what happened?” Linda said.
Sam managed a smile. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe I can help.” The voice came from the open door. Linda turned to see a woman in a gray suit. She was tall, with nut-brown hair clipped short. On her hip was a gold star with a cityscape in the center, and the words
Metropolitan Police
in dark blue around it.
“That’s Detective Powers,” Sam said.
“Joan,” the woman said, extending her hand to Linda.
“If it’s all the same to you,” Sam said to Linda, “I’d rather have her explain it all. I’m beat.”
“Can we step into the visitor’s room?” Joan Powers said.
“Go on, Mom,” Max said. “I’ll take care of Dad and Heather.”
Anxious to hear the story, Linda followed Detective Powers to the visitor’s room halfway down the corridor. Powers moved with a dancer’s grace and seemed young to be a detective. But this was Las Vegas, so maybe it fit.
“Your husband and daughter have quite a tale to tell.” Powers indicated a sofa for the two to sit. They were alone in the room, which was done up in burnt orange with a Georgia O’Keeffe print on the wall.
“Please tell me all of it,” Linda said.
Detective Powers removed a small device from her coat pocket. “Do you mind if I record this?”
“What for?”
“I’ll want to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind. Part of the investigation.”
“Investigation into what? Please — ”
“All right.” Powers set the micro recorder between them on the sofa. She took out a small black notebook, opened it, scanned a few pages. “Your husband told me about this man, Nicky Oberlin, who’s been harassing your family.”
“That’s a real gentle way to put it.”
“Can you tell me what he was doing to you?”
“I want to know what happened to my husband first.”
“You weren’t apprised by the doctor?”
“I haven’t been apprised, informed, spoken to, or anything else by anyone. You know what happened?”
“I know what the medical report says. Your husband was shot in the leg — ”
“Shot? By who?”
“This Oberlin guy, according to your husband.”
Linda frowned. It almost sounded like the detective didn’t quite buy her husband’s story. Maybe she was just tired and anxious, so she let it pass. She said, “Is that all?”
“Apparently not,” Detective Powers said. “He had a snakebite too.”
“Snakebite!”
“Rattlesnake. At least that’s what I’m told.”
Linda rubbed her eyes. “And how did he get that?”
Looking at her notes, Detective Powers said, “According to your husband, this Oberlin guy had your daughter with him in this place pretty far removed, southwest of here, outside Good Springs. Very isolated. Your daughter says he was holding her there by force.”
“You believe her, don’t you?”
“At this point I’m trying to gather all the facts. I have no reason to disbelieve her. She says your husband showed up to try to get her out of there, and Oberlin set a trap. Your husband says he fell into a big pit. Oberlin threw a rattlesnake at him. It sounds pretty out there.”
“Not if you know Nicky Oberlin. I wouldn’t put anything past him. Have you caught him?”
“I’m getting to that,” Detective Powers said. “Your daughter got out of the house, she says, and while Oberlin was coming after her, your husband got out of the pit. He made it into the house. At some point Oberlin came back and there was a struggle. Oberlin shot him in the leg, there was more scuffling, and your husband managed to knock him out. Did I mention the house was on fire?”
Linda just stared at the detective.
“Your husband says it was rigged. But one of our helicopters saw the flames. It was like a torch out there in the middle of nowhere. That’s how we got your husband and daughter out. I’d say that was pretty lucky.”
“I’d say luck had nothing to do with it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Can we finish this? I’d like to go back to my husband.”
“Just a couple more questions. Our CS unit’s going over the place even as we speak, and that will tell us a lot.”
“I hope so.”
“May I just ask about the relationship between your husband and Oberlin?”
“Relationship? There was no relationship. He just showed up one day and inserted himself into my husband’s life.”
“Didn’t they go back to college days?”
“Well, yes, they sort of knew each other in college.” “That’s what I was talking about.”
“Excuse me, but am I being cross-examined here? Are you implying something?”
“As I said, it’s my job to get all the facts, that’s all.”
“But you’re not saying that my husband is in any way responsible for what happened, are you?”
“A man may be dead,” Detective Powers said. “That’s very serious. I’m sure you understand that.”
“I don’t understand your putting the burden of proof on me or my husband.”
“Please, Mrs. Trask, that’s not what I’m trying to do. But understand my position. I don’t know anything about anybody in this case. I don’t know anything about this man named Oberlin. I don’t know how you or your husband or your daughter have interacted with him. If it is as you say, there is no problem. The facts will come out. But your helping me up front will prevent a lot of problems later on.”
“Then let me spell this out as clearly as I can. There is no problem. Nicky Oberlin harassed our family because he had something against Sam.”
“There was some bad blood?”
“Not at all. Sam had very little to do with Oberlin in college. That was over twenty-five years ago. His coming back now was all due, I don’t know, to a tick in his brain. He’s a psycho.”
“Your husband mentioned something about a court case, a criminal matter.”
“Yes, Oberlin was arrested and . . .”
“Yes?”
Linda wondered if she should mention that Nicky had filed an assault charge against Sam. It was absurd, of course, but if she didn’t say anything and Powers found out later it would look bad. On the other hand, she didn’t like the way this particular line of questioning was heading.
“I was just saying,” Linda continued, “that a criminal complaint was filed by the district attorney against Oberlin. He poisoned our dog.”
“And what was the outcome of that matter?”
“It was dismissed on a technicality.”
Detective Powers didn’t say anything. She pursed her lips. Annoying Linda. “May I go see my husband now?” “Of course. Perhaps we can continue this in a little while.” “Perhaps,” Linda said, meaning
With all due respect, no way.