*****
An hour later, we were in Reid’s car, driving towards Kitt’s house. If I was going to deliver my story, we’d have to get back to work. I wore a pair of gray jeans and a black, long-sleeved, fitted t-shirt. On my feet I wore gray running shoes just in case we needed to pursue a suspect. I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and looked out the window. It was nine o’clock and night had fallen around us. Reid had pulled up Kitt’s address on his GPS, and a woman’s voice in an Australian accent was guiding us around the turns. I knew Mac wouldn’t be caught dead taking directions from a machine like this, but I thought it was cool that Reid would.
“In one quarter mile, keep left onto freeway one hundred and one,” the computer voice chirped.
“I’m gonna make a quick stop first,” Reid said. He turned right and pulled into a convenience mart.
“Ha!” I said. “I knew you couldn’t do a stakeout without junk food.”
We pulled into the parking lot and jumped out. Reid grabbed a coffee and I did the same. I bought a couple of chocolate bars – half with nuts and half without. At the register I insisted we put everything on my tab. It was the show’s money anyway, so Reid didn’t argue.
We jumped in the car, and I ripped open one of the candy bars and took a bite. I washed it down with a cup of coffee. I knew I was gorging myself, but I was tired and past the point of caring. I‘d always felt that if you were going to pig out, it was better to do it all at once than to spread it out across the week.
We pulled back onto the road, and about twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to Kitt’s house. It was near the race track, a small one-story house that was in poor repair. His green Spyder was parked in the garage, and there was a light on inside.
Reid parked the car across the street and slightly down the road. From this angle, we could see if people were going in and out of the house, but not much more beyond that. Reid opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a container of shoe polish. He held it out to me.
“Put some of this under your eyes – it will make us less visible.”
I nodded and globbed some under each eye. When I was finished, I pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror. I looked like a raccoon. “Does this really do anything?” I asked.
Reid cracked a smile, then busted out laughing.
“You are such a jerk!” I told him, punching him in the arm for the second time that night. “Give me a napkin!”
Reid pulled some out of the glove box and I wiped the polish off as best I could. I looked like I had slept on my face with industrial strength mascara smeared everywhere.
“That was just too easy,” Reid said.
I shook my head. “Can you take this seriously, please?”
“I am, I am. We just have to sit here, there’s not much to it.”
I sipped my coffee and looked at the house. I could see a flickering in the window, and I guessed Kitt was watching television. I grabbed a few shots with the PD-150, then sat tight.
An hour into our stakeout, my coffee was drained and I had to go to the bathroom. I was bored and Reid wasn’t providing much in the way of conversation. Finally, a cab pulled up in front of Kitt’s house and honked twice. Reid and I both ducked low in our seats, watching.
A minute later the front door opened. Kitt was shirtless and wearing a pair of tight jeans. I couldn’t help but stare – the guy was sexy. A woman appeared from behind him – someone we hadn’t seen before. She was dressed in a loose but very short mini-dress and flip-flops and had long, flowing hair. She leaned against him and he put his hands around her face and kissed her, wide-mouthed.
“Man!” I said. “This guy is a major slut!”
“Shh!” Reid snapped. We watched the two separate and the girl drifted into the cab while Kitt stayed behind.
“He doesn’t even drive her home. This guy’s a real class act,” Reid said.
The cab pulled off and Kitt walked back into the house. “Would it surprise you if another cab pulled up right about now?” Reid asked me.
“Oh yeah, like you’re much better. I see the way women fall all over you.”
“What women? Your sister and your mother? Are those the women you’re talking about?”
“I see how women look at you,” I said, unable to stop the words as they came out of my mouth.
“Wow, you’re keeping an eye on me, huh?”
“I observe, that’s my job,” I said.
“Well I think you’re crazy.”
“You can say whatever you want, but I know your type. You and Kitt are just the same.”
“Oh really? You know me so well, huh? You should tell my mother that – she gives me shit all the time because I don’t date anyone. She’d probably be thrilled to know I’m out with a different girl each night.”
“I doubt it,” I said.
The garage door of Kitt’s house sprung to life, and Reid and I both snapped to attention. We watched as the Spyder backed down the driveway and turned towards us on the street.
“Duck!” Reid said, and we both hit the floor.
A moment later, we were back in our seats, and Reid was firing up the engine. The hunt was on.
Reid handed me a baseball cap, which I threw over my head so that I wouldn’t be recognized should Kitt happen to notice the tail. We stayed about three cars back from him and seemed to go unnoticed.
Kitt pulled onto the freeway ramp and once he merged into a lane he hit the gas. I could hear the roar of his engine as he took off.
“Shit!” I said. “Get him!”
Reid floored it and we raced after Kitt. Reid was careful to continue keeping our distance, but it was hard when we were weaving in and out of traffic in order to keep up with Kitt.
Kitt took the 101 Freeway to the 405 Freeway and headed south. We stuck with him. He eventually found a comfortable speed around ninety and cruised in the fast lane.
“Is this a bad time to tell you I have to go to the bathroom?” I asked.
“You’re gonna have to hold it,” Reid said. I already knew that, but it was still hard to hear.
We drove south for about an hour, down into Orange County and then through San Diego.
“Where the hell is this guy going?” I asked.
Reid picked up his phone and dialed Foxy. “Yeah man, how you doing? Listen, me and Sharpe are following Night Rider and he seems to be heading towards Mexico…Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking…No, I’ll let you know what we find….okay, thanks.” Reid hung up the phone. “If he’s heading to Mexico, it’s for a drug pick-up. Did he seem like a user to you?”
I shrugged. “Seemed like racing was his drug, but I’m not good at spotting that type of thing. My high school prom date was on ecstasy the whole time and I never noticed. Every time I would touch his shoulder or his arm he’d get a boner, but I didn’t put it together until years later.”
Reid shook his head. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”
We drove closer and closer to the Mexican border. We passed a couple of casinos on Indian reservations and I fantasized about using their bathrooms. As we neared the border, Kitt turned off the highway. We followed him but were careful about it. We trailed him as he drove down a series of winding roads, heading east. The land around us was becoming more deserted and more barren.
“I don’t know how much longer I can follow him without getting noticed,” Reid said.
I had the PD-150 in my hand and was panning back and forth between Kitt’s car and Reid behind the wheel. “Detective, can you tell me what’s going on right now?”
Reid looked frustrated, but he played along. He put on his best cop voice and spoke to me, looking back and forth between the camera and the road. “I’ve been following this suspect for about a hundred miles now. I would estimate we are about five miles or so from the Mexican border. He’s not going through the normal security checkpoint, he seems to know another route. My guess is he’s running drugs, I’m just trying to hang back so he doesn’t see us.”<
br />
“Thanks,” I said. “That was great.”
We saw the red brake lights on Kitt’s car light up and then he turned off the road and into the brush. Reid drove a little further and then stopped.
“We have to wait here,” Reid said quietly.
I didn’t want to whine again that I had to go to the bathroom, so instead I seized the opportunity and opened the car door. I jumped out and found a nice bush that I could squat behind. I made sure to be totally out of sight. This was embarrassing, I knew that, but I thought wetting Reid’s front seat might rank higher on the embarrassment meter, so I went for it.
“Sharpe! Sharpe!” Reid whispered.
I was quick to drop my pants and felt such a relief when the liquid drained out of me that I nearly orgasmed. It was then that I saw the white lights of Kitt’s car coming towards me through the brush. I was mid-pee, but somehow all the liquid seemed to dump out at once and I had time to lunge behind Reid’s car and hide myself.
Kitt’s car roared past us and back down the road he came in on. My pants were wrapped around my ankles, but I couldn’t worry about them. I managed to get my underpants up and jumped into the front seat of Reid’s car.
“What the hell were you thinking!?”
“Just go!” I ordered and Reid floored it. I pulled the passenger door shut and pulled my pants up all in one maneuver.
“You chose now to piss!?”
“Could you think of a better time?”
“Yeah, lots!”
Suddenly, two other vehicles roared behind us. They were Jeeps painted in camouflage colors, and they had blue lights flashing on them.
“Shit!” Reid said and swerved off the road, letting the two trucks pass. They blazed past us blaring their sirens and leaving a trail of dust. Once they passed, Reid got back on the road and chased after them.
I grabbed my camera and started shooting. “Are those guys cops?” I asked over the noise.
“Hell no! They’re vigilantes working border patrol. The government lets them shoot first and ask questions later,” Reid answered.
“Shoot people?” I asked.
“No, shoot darts, Sharpe. What do you think?”
“Oh, wow!” I yelped.
We could see Kitt speeding ahead. It looked like there were some people sitting in the back of his car. Kitt’s engine roared and he took off, leaving the Jeeps, myself and Reid in the dust.
The Jeeps slowed to a stop and so did we. They parked next to each other and the driver of the first car got out. He was wearing a dirty gray tank top and he carried a shotgun on a strap over his shoulder. He had a string of bullets around his waist and was wearing a pair of tight brown jeans. His hair was short and he looked like Rambo’s understudy. I thought about the tiny canister of mace Mac had given me and wondered where I’d left it.
“Holy cow,” I whispered. I was really glad I peed, because if I hadn’t done it then I’d certainly be doing it now. I was still holding up the camera and recording. Somehow I felt a little safer behind the lens – like I was watching a movie and not actually in the crosshairs of vigilante killers.
The second Jeep’s door opened and two more men jumped out. The first was short and skinny with pointy ears and a short haircut. He had a little mustache and beady eyes. He was wearing a pair of army pants and a beige button-down shirt. The driver of the second Jeep was taller and more muscular. He wore a black leather vest with nothing underneath it. He carried a semi-automatic gun in his hand. It looked like one of those guns that the gangsters held sideways while proclaiming “I’m gonna git you, sucka!” in the movies.
Reid pulled his gun out of its holster and checked it for proper ammo. My eyes opened so wide they nearly bugged out of my head. “Are you gonna use that?”
Reid ignored me and put the gun back in its holster. He pulled on the lever of the door and opened it. I gasped. I couldn’t believe he was going out there. “Reid, don’t leave me. Wait!”
“Turn off that camera and stay put,” Reid said and stepped out of the car. I knew this wasn’t the time to be rebellious, so I stayed put. I wasn’t going to move, but I was going to keep filming – I was scared, not stupid.
Outside, the three men drew their guns, but Reid already had his hands in the air. He was holding his badge up. “Hey, guys, I’m on your side,” Reid called out. “Put the guns down, okay?”
The three men looked at each other and laughed. “We’re the law down here,” the skinny guy said.
“Where you from?” the Rambo-looking guy asked.
“Los Angeles. I came down here in pursuit of a suspect,” Reid said. “Come on, guys, put down the guns.”
Rambo nodded to the others, and they harnessed their weapons. “Thank you,” Reid said, putting his hands down.
“Who’s the girl?” the skinny guy asked, pointing at me.
“She’s nobody,” Reid said. “She’s helping me with this investigation.”
“Why’s she holding a camera?” the skinny guy asked.
Reid turned to look at me and winced when he saw I was still rolling. He turned back to the guys with a smile on his face. “I told you I was from Hollywood, right? We’re shooting a TV show during all this.”
The skinny guy started laughing and the other two joined in too. I felt a wave of relief pass over me, and I think Reid did too. The skinny guy looked at me and signaled for me to get out of the car. I was hesitant at first, but it seemed safe now. I opened the car door and stepped out, carrying my camera.
“I hear you want to make us movie stars,” the skinny guy said.
I forced a smile. “That’s right – if you’re interested in being on camera.”
“Aww, my mother would be so proud,” the guy in the black vest said.
“What do you know about the man driving the green Spyder?” Reid asked the men.
I held up the camera and leaned against Reid’s car as I filmed them. The skinny guy looked at me. “You gonna shoot us now?”
I thought about the irony of his words. I never thought I’d be the one doing the shooting. “If you are okay with that,” I answered.
“Sure, why not?”
“Great, please state your name and confirm that you consent to being filmed,” I said.
I went down the line and all three men agreed to be filmed. It wasn’t as good as a paper release, but it would do. The skinny guy was named Bobby, Rambo’s clone was named Jake, and the guy in the leather vest was appropriately called Leather. I was actually a little surprised that they agreed to participate. These men were carrying illegal weapons to hunt down humans, and they were willing to be seen on TV doing it. They had cojones – I’d give them that.
“Tell me about the driver,” Reid said again.
“His name is Kitt,” Jake said. I glanced over at Reid, but he wasn’t looking at me.
“What’s he doing down here?” Reid asked.
“Smuggling. The spics cross the border at night and he picks them up at a pick-up point – brings them north. He collects a fee and they get to live in the good ol’ U S of A.”
“How do you know his name? Have you ever spoken to him?” Reid asked.
“Yeah, lots of times. We can’t do shit until he’s got the cargo – you know? We’re not cops – we can only take out the intruders. He likes to mess with us – bragging about how fast he is – him and that piss-ant Chaser.”
I felt my breath catch.
“Chaser does this too – human smuggling?” Reid asked.
“Yeah. They come down here in their hot rod cars with their big engines. I’ve thought about just taking them out, but it ruins the sport, you know?”
“Spic hunting is a rush,” Bobby added with a big dumb smile on his face.
“Do they take drugs across too?” Reid asked.
“Probably,” Jake said. “Don’t know.”
“There ain’t time for a lot of questions when you’re behind the barrel of a gun,” Bobby said.
“Have you ever killed any
one?” I asked. The words fell out of my mouth and now all eyes were on me.
Bobby smiled and addressed me sweetly. “Now, I wouldn’t want to say anything about that while that pretty camera was on.”
“Right, sorry.”
“Tell me about Chaser,” Reid said.
“He comes down probably once a week,” Jake said. “Though I haven’t seen him lately. Grabs a couple spics and takes off. He’s less cocky than that dumbass Kitt. If he’s not careful he’s gonna git hisself killed.”
“Are you the only guys out here who do this?” Reid asked.
“There’s a couple more of us,” Leather chimed in, “but this here is our turf.”
I was amazed that we were so close to San Diego and yet the people I was dealing with seemed like they had just crawled out from under a rock.
“How long have you been chasing these guys?” Reid asked.
“We’ve been after Chaser for maybe six months now,” Jake said. “Kitt less – maybe three.”
“Are there any other guys that come down here and do this? Other racers?”
“They’re the only hot shots right now. Other people come down here, but not to race, they come to pick up their families or whatever bullshit.”
I had a vision of a poor immigrant who had made a life for himself in America trying to pick up his grandmother and kids at the pick-up point. Then I pictured Jake and Leather blowing their brains out. It was not a good image. I knew illegal immigration into Los Angeles was a problem, but this didn’t seem like the right way to solve it. I was feeling very uncomfortable, and I hoped Reid was finished with his questioning. I wanted to solve this murder, but I also wanted to get the hell out of there. I had to be at a dress fitting in the morning, and I didn’t want to arrive at it in a body bag.
“Do you ever see anyone driving down with Kitt or Chaser – a woman, maybe?” Reid asked.
“There was a lady who used to come down with Chaser sometimes. Long black hair, big tits,” Jake said. “I haven’t seen her in a while, though.”
“Thank you, guys, you have been very helpful. I may come down again in the next few days so keep an eye out for my car, okay?” The guys nodded and Reid turned to me. “Let’s get going.”
Reid calmly walked to the car and I followed. He made sure I got in the car safely before he got inside.
“Don’t say anything,” Reid said to me.
We watched in silence as the three men climbed back into their makeshift army vehicles and turned over their engines. They drove past us, giving Reid a slight wave as they passed. I had stopped filming and was thinking about how lucky I was to be alive. I was also thinking that I really needed a career change. Sometimes getting the shot just wasn’t worth it. I let out a deep breath, trying to relax. I felt Reid’s hand on my leg.
“It’s okay,” he said to me. “You’re safe.”
Reid put the key in the ignition and turned on the car. He pulled forward and began driving while the GPS fired up. “I don’t know if this thing will even be able to find us,” he said.
“You’re telling me we’re lost on top of everything else?” I whispered.
Reid glared at me, and then turned his head towards the road. Yelling at him was probably not the best idea right about now.
We drove in silence for several miles until the GPS finally picked up our signal. “Please drive to highlighted route,” the woman with the Australian accent said, and we both breathed a sigh of relief. We drove the next thirty miles in complete silence, lost in our thoughts. It wasn’t until we got on the freeway and saw the San Diego signs that we were finally able to take stock of what we had been through and regroup. Reid was a tough guy, I knew that, but I also knew his upbringing, and there was no way trading stories with vigilante killers came naturally to him. He played it off well, but it could have easily gone downhill very fast. Those types of guys don’t want to work with cops because they don’t respect our country’s laws - Reid and I both knew that.
“Do you think Rose is the connection?” I asked finally.
“Huh?” Reid said, lost in thought.
“She’s Mexican. Maybe she has contacts on the other side and arranges for the pick-ups.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” Reid said.
“So what do we do?”
“We need answers from Kitt – right now all we have is suspicions, and they’re not enough.”
“Do you think he killed Chaser?”
“Could have. Maybe he got greedy – wanted the money for himself.”
“Maybe Rose did it. Maybe she started sleeping with Kitt and wanted to cut Chaser out of the equation.”
Reid was nodding. “Too many maybes. Plus none of this explains the paint chips on Chaser’s body. They matched Jaeger’s car, and it seems like too big of a coincidence that Rose was in that car the next night.”
“Right, so Rose is the killer.”
“You can’t just guess, Sharpe, there’s a thing called evidence that you need and we don’t have any. I’m gonna talk to the captain in the morning. What time is your dress thing?”
“Eleven thirty,” I said.
“Okay, get to the station around nine and we’ll bring the captain up to speed.”
“Thanks for including me,” I said.
“I have to admit you have been somewhat helpful with this case. I wouldn’t cut you out now.”
Reid paying me this small compliment actually meant a lot, and I felt proud of myself. I typically didn’t take much pride in what I did, and I certainly didn’t enjoy staring death in the face on the Mexican border, but nonetheless, I felt the night ended on a high note.
An hour later, Reid pulled up in front of my apartment. It was close to two a.m., but I was getting used to the lack of sleep. I was already imagining what my mother was going to say when she saw the bags under my eyes tomorrow morning.
I opened the car door and turned to Reid. “Call me,” I joked, acting as if we had just finished our first date.
“Get some sleep,” Reid said.
I closed the door and he pulled off. I was actually relieved to know he was only driving a few miles away. Reid had almost nodded off a few times on the way home and I didn’t want him getting in an accident.
I turned towards my apartment and went inside. My bed was calling my name, but I had to make a phone call first. It was very late and I decided this would be the perfect time to call Lenny with an update. He had done it to me during his little prank and now it was payback time.
The phone rang a few times, but on the fourth ring he picked up. “Hello?” I heard a groggy voice say.
“Lenny, it’s Vicky Sharpe. Am I waking you?”
“Hold on, Sharpe,” Lenny said and proceeded to make a series of hacking noises. This went on for almost three minutes and I was about to hang up when he returned to the line. “Whaddya got?”
“I just got back from the Mexican border. This hit-and-run case has taken a big turn.”
“Tell me,” Lenny said, sounding excited.
I explained how we had followed Kitt to the border and how Chaser and Kitt were both involved in the human smuggling business. I told him my suspicions were that either Rose or Kitt or even one of the vigilante border patrols could be the killer. There were a lot of ‘ifs,’ but we were much closer than we had been when we started.
“This is big,” Lenny said. “I’m gonna talk to the network about this tomorrow. This should be our premiere episode. When can you get tonight’s footage digitized?”
“Have a PA pick it up from me at the station in the morning. I can’t waste time driving it over to the West Side,” I said, acting like a big shot.
“Done. Keep me posted on your progress. Hey, Sharpe?”
“Yes?”
“Good work.”
Lenny hung up and I beamed. I washed my face in the sink and brushed my teeth. I felt filthy after being that close to those border scumbags. I washed my hands thoroughly and then dressed in my pajamas
. My thoughts kept me awake for a half hour as I played different scenarios in my head about who could have killed Chaser. Finally, around three, I drifted into sleep.
Chapter 9.