Wayob's Revenge by Arthur Swan

Author:Arthur Swan [Swan, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: swanfall
Published: 2022-05-25T16:00:00+00:00

Saul Takes a Hike

At the booth, Johnson hung up and shook his head. Saul considered charging the gate. A formidable work of iron, for sure, but only as strong as its weakest link. The hinges would yield to the two tons of Crown Vic at his disposal. But if he smashed through the gate, Johnson would call 911. That was a given. And then he could forget about Ashley’s cooperation, the whole point in coming here.

Saul glanced around and nodded, as though he appreciated what he saw. “I can see you keep it tight around here, but what about before your shift? Not everyone is as diligent as you.”

Johnson tapped an iPad. “We keep a log of everyone who comes and goes. Including you, although you’re only going.”

“Who else is down there, besides Ashley?”

“Just the maid and gardener,” Johnson said, “and my orders are to keep it that way.”

Saul pulled a card from his wallet and passed it out the window to Johnson. “Call me if Wilson shows up.”

“Sure thing.” Johnson chuckled. “After I kick his ass.”

Saul backed up the drive and into the road. He drove up the hill until he was beyond Johnson’s line of sight from the guard booth and pulled over. Took out his phone and zoomed in to his location on the map. Wayob wouldn’t give up, Saul knew, and so nor would he.

He drove up to Mulholland and turned right. Wound his way through the curves. Past the million-dollar views of the San Fernando Valley and the mountains behind it, burned by recent fires and now sunshine as the day downshifted from afternoon into evening. At the light where Mulholland crossed Coldwater, Saul turned onto a narrow road which led down into Franklin Canyon. A couple of miles below the gate, he parked at a dirt turnout and glared up at the daunting climb to Ashley’s property. Yes, he was going to hike. He was that desperate.

He shoved Hernandez’s small binoculars in his pocket, unfolded himself from the Mustang, and pulled off the new coat and tie. He tossed them back inside. What did Ashley know? Did she even know anything?

He started up a narrow trail, which snaked its way up the canyon, and was almost instantly out of breath. The trail steepened to the point where he had to scramble on hands and knees, half-sliding and wading through loose dirt and gravel, half of which seemed to lodge in his shoes. He had to remind himself of the urgency, that it was only a matter of time before Wayob claimed his next victim.

He passed rocks the color of dark mustard, radiating heat from the sun like an oven. He removed his button-up, tied it around his waist, and stretched up his T-shirt to mop the sweat and the dust from his face. At least tomorrow when he woke up sore, he’d know why. He pressed on.

The trail seemed to end near a rock outcropping. Saul swatted his way through a thicket of sage and walked out onto the rock.

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