He pointed to the Jack in the Box restaurant next door. There was a pay phone on the wall near one of the doors. McCaleb got out and slowly walked to the phone. He was careful to keep his eyes on the pavement in front of him, not wanting to set off another slide into vertigo.
He called Jaye Winston’s direct line, expecting to leave a message, but she picked up immediately.
“It’s Terry. I thought you had court.”
“I do but it’s the lunch break. I have to be back at two. I was just about to call you.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Hypnotize Mr. Noone. The captain signed off on it and I called Mr. Noone. He said sure. He just wants us to do it tonight because he’s going out of town-back to Vegas, I guess. He’s going to be here at six. You can do it then, right?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Then we’re set. Why were you calling?”
McCaleb hesitated. What he had to tell her might change the evening’s plans but he knew he couldn’t delay.
“Can you get a photo of Bolotov by tonight?”
“I already have one. You want to show Noone?”
“Yeah. I just paid Bolotov a little visit and he didn’t react too well to it.”
“What happened?”
“Before I could ask him three questions, he jumped me and ran.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“I wish.”
“What about his alibi?”
“It’s about as solid as a loaf of bread.”
McCaleb briefly recounted his interview with Toliver and then Bolotov. He told Winston she should put out a wanted notice for Bolotov.
“For what, did you or Toliver make a police report?”
“I didn’t but Toliver said he was going to make a report on the window.”
“All right, I’ll put out a pickup. Are you all right? You sound punchy.”
“I’m okay. Is this going to change things? Or are we still on for tonight?”
“Far as I’m concerned, we’re still on.”
“Okay. See you then.”
“Look, Terry, don’t put too much stock in Bolotov, okay?”
“I think he looks good for this.”
“I don’t know. Lancaster ’s a long way from where Bolotov lives. You’ve got to remember, the guy’s a convict. He could have and would have done what he did with you whether he’s involved with this or not. Because if he didn’t do this, then he did something else.”
“Maybe. But I still like the guy.”
“Well, maybe Noone will make our day and point him out in a six-pack.”
“Now you’re talking.”
After hanging up, McCaleb made it back to the Taurus without a problem. Once inside he dug the travel kit he always carried with him out of the leather satchel on the floor. It contained a day’s worth of medication and a dozen or so throw-away thermometers called Temp-Strips. He peeled the paper off one and put it in his mouth. While he waited, he signaled Lockridge to start the car. Once the engine had fired, McCaleb reached over to the air-conditioner controls and turned it on.
“You want air?” Lockridge asked.
McCaleb nodded and Lockridge turned the fan up higher.
After three minutes McCaleb took the strip out and checked it. He felt a deep shard of fear cut into him as he looked at the thin red vein stretched past the one-hundred-degree mark.
“Let’s go home.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. The marina.”
As Lockridge pointed the car south toward the 101 freeway, McCaleb turned the air vents on his side so that the cool air was flowing right into his face. He opened up another Temp-Strip and put it under his tongue. He tried to calm himself by turning on KFWB on the radio and looking out at the passing street scene. Two minutes later the second temperature reading was better than the first, but he was still running a low-grade fever. His fear eased back some and his throat relaxed. He banged his palms against the dashboard and shook his head, convincing himself in the process that the fever was an aberration. He had been perfect so far. There was no reason for this other than that he had gotten overheated while tangling with Bolotov.
He decided to go back to the boat and take an aspirin and a long nap before preparing for the evening’s session with James Noone. The alternative was to call Bonnie Fox. And he knew that such a call would result in his finding himself in a hospital bed for several days of testing and observation. Fox was as thorough at what she did as McCaleb liked to think he was at what he did. She wouldn’t hesitate to bring him in. He would lose at least a week lying in bed in Cedars. He would certainly miss his chance at Noone and he would lose the momentum that was the only other thing he had going for him in this investigation.
