Killer Ambition - [47]

After a few moments we began to inch forward again. Now, energized by what I hoped was a find, I took closer note of every branch and leaf we passed. I saw that there were broken branches here and there-as good a sign as we were likely to find that someone had recently been here. I pointed them out to Herrera, who held up his camera to show that he’d caught it. I didn’t want to stop, but my mouth was dry and my skin felt gritty with dried sweat. I pulled out a bottle of water and let Bailey and Herrera continue to move forward. At the painstaking pace Herrera was moving, I’d still be able to catch up if I didn’t budge for another three hours.

My neck was aching from the strain of concentrating on every shrub, pebble, and grain of dirt. I straightened up and pulled back my shoulders as I glanced at the stretch of mountain ahead. It looked as though the route we were taking was winding back toward the road. A scenario began to form in my mind, and I started to study the ground carefully as I walked.

Ten minutes later we snaked around an outcropping, and I looked up to see that we were just fifty feet from the road. Herrera stopped to take more photographs and Bailey pulled out her water bottle. I pulled mine out of my backpack, but it slipped from my hand and rolled under a bush. As I bent down to get it, I noticed a bright spot in the branches of one of the bushes-an artificial color that didn’t belong there. Poking my head in for a closer look, I saw that it was pink, and possibly rectangular.

I stood up and called out to Herrera. “Here! I’ve got something!” Probably just Barbie’s Dream Car, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Herrera turned back and carefully retraced his steps. He bent down and looked at the object through one of the biggest magnifying glasses I’d ever seen. I was entranced by that giant magnifier. I decided that I wanted one of my own, and made a mental note to drop a hint to Bailey about it-my birthday was coming up soon. Then it occurred to me that after Toni and I got done ripping on her about the questions she’d asked Uma, she might not be in such a charitable mood. Preoccupied with important thoughts like these, I almost missed it when Herrera finally finished taking photographs and extracted the object from the bush.

It was a cell phone.

28

“Nice catch, Counselor,” Herrera said as he bagged the phone.

He insisted on re-covering every inch of ground from that spot, and it took us another hour to reach the end of the path, which did turn out to be the roadway. Feeling wrung out and filthy, I walked to the shadiest area I could find and sat down on a rock. Seconds later, Bailey joined me.

“How much you wanna bet that cell phone’s Hayley’s?” I said.

“No bet. It is, I agree. I just hope Dorian will finish with it fast.”

“All she can really do is check for prints and swab for DNA, which’ll probably be a bust. The thing’s been out here a couple of days now. I just wonder if it’ll still work.” I scanned the road and the pullout in front of us. “Think there’s any point in trying to get tire marks out here?”

Bailey looked at the area where we’d emerged from the brush. “After that biblical rain, I can’t see how anything would be left. But I’ll ask Dorian.”

We drank our water and waited as the rest of the crew headed for their cars, then Bailey asked Dorian about the tire tracks.

“Already took photos with a zoom lens. But I’m not hopeful.”

I started to ask her when she’d be done with the cell phone, then clamped my mouth shut.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dorian turned and headed for her pickup.

“See you later.”

Dorian said over her shoulder, “Not if I see you first.”

I pulled on my backpack and turned to Bailey. “I hope our ‘connection’ doesn’t make you feel left out,” I joked.

As we were about to get into Bailey’s car, Dorian called out to us from her truck. “You can have that cell phone the day after tomorrow.”

When we reached Mulholland Highway, my phone played the default tune, “FM” by Steely Dan. I looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. A reporter? Unlikely. Sandi, the DA’s media relations chief, had been doing her job well and had managed to keep me out of the fray. A job that was made significantly easier by the fact that Vanderhorn had such big love for the fray. And so far there’d been no leaks of any real information. The press, and especially the tabloids, were trying to keep the story going by digging up background “color” about Hayley’s life, but surprisingly, they’d been kind. I had the feeling that might be due to the fact that the biggest of them, the National Inquisitor, had set the tone by printing sympathetic vignettes supposedly garnered from her “closest buds.” And since those stories were selling, the rest of the papers had fallen into step.

I decided if this was a reporter, I’d just hang up. It was my go-to strategy with the press, which explained my wild popularity. I answered warily, without giving my name. “Hello?”

A man cleared his throat, then spoke in a deep, rolling baritone. “Am I speaking to Rachel Knight? This is Sterling Numan. Dorian asked me to take a look at your soil and plant samples. Sorry to disrupt your weekend-”