The Night Crew

see; I’m getting really cold.’’
    ‘‘Let her go,’’ Anna screamed. ‘‘Let her go.’’
    ‘‘No. She’s gonna die,’’ the man said, casually. ‘‘You know why? Because I needed a woman, especially after what you did the other night. You cut the shit out of me, Anna. I’m all fucked up.’’ And just off the phone, ‘‘You’re gonna die, aren’t you, China? Look at the blood already.’’ And back to the phone: ‘‘She’s dying; it’s draining right out of her. I cut her legs. It’s really purple, the blood, you’d think it’d be redder.’’
    ‘‘You fucker,’’ Anna shouted, and without thinking, she threw the phone like a baseball, and it bounced across the blacktop, shedding its battery, flipping and bouncing along. Norden said, ‘‘What, Anna, what’d he say . . . ?’’
    But Anna was already running after the phone. She scooped it up, and the battery, jammed the battery back in, said, ‘‘Hello?’’ Pushed the send button, said, ‘‘Hello, hello, oh, Jesus . . .’’
    Nobody there. She stood there with the phone in her hand, looked at Norden, then turned around to look down the street at Harnett’s building. A cop hurried out of the building, followed by Harper. As they scrambled to the cop car, Harper turned to look toward her. Anna spread her hands, a gesture that said, Gone . ‘‘Can’t be right,’’ Anna moaned. She was kneeling on the front seat of the BMW while Harper cranked it back down toward Sunset. Wyatt would meet them, way out of his jurisdiction, bringing along a couple of L.A. homicide cops. BJ’s was still open, people in black climbing the stairs toward the party room. Anna tore through the main floor, peering at the tables; eyes followed as she checked each one, and a bartender said, ‘‘Hey . . .’’ and finally she caught a waitress and asked, ‘‘Have you seen China Lake?’’
    ‘‘If she’s here, she’s probably back in one of the bathrooms, that’s where she usually is,’’ the woman smirked.
    Anna burst into the women’s restroom, and two women standing by the counter spun to look at her, one still with a touch of powder cocaine at her nose. ‘‘Christ . . .’’ One of the stalls was closed, and Anna banged on the door, ‘‘China, is that you?’’
    ‘‘No, go away,’’ a woman’s voice, shrill, not China.
    Anna went back out, saw Harper striding toward her, Norden in his wake. She went on down the hall and pushed into the men’s room. A guy was standing at a urinal and Anna said, ‘‘Have you seen China Lake?’’
    The guy tried to shrug, then said, ‘‘What’s that?’’
    ‘‘Damn it . . .’’ She went back into the hall and Harper caught her and said, ‘‘Nothing?’’
    ‘‘No.’’
    ‘‘She’s not upstairs,’’ Harper said. He put both hands on his head, trying to think, and a bouncer came up behind him and said, ‘‘You guys got a problem?’’
    ‘‘Yeah,’’ Anna said. ‘‘Have you seen China Lake? Or seen her with anybody?’’
    ‘‘What’s the problem?’’
    ‘‘We think a fruitcake grabbed her. She could be in serious trouble,’’ Harper said. He was using his cop voice, and the bouncer said, ‘‘You know, she was here an hour ago. I think I saw her going out, she was alone. Let’s go ask Larry.’’
    He led them back through the club, to the front, and the stairs leading up to the party room. The doorman at the top looked down, and the bouncer yelled, ‘‘Hey, Larry, you seen China?’’
    ‘‘She left.’’
    ‘‘Did she leave with anyone? You see anyone?’’
    ‘‘She was by herself, far as I know.’’
    Anna asked, ‘‘Did you see a guy in here with a bandage on his face? Right by his eye? Or maybe a big bruise?’’
    He shook his head: ‘‘Nobody here like that.’’
    ‘‘You think you could have missed it?’’
    ‘‘No way. Thing like that, a guy’s probably a troublemaker. We keep our eye out for troublemakers.’’
    The outside door opened behind them, and Wyatt came through, followed by two men in suits. The bouncer spotted them and said, ‘‘Shit,’’ and looked up the stairs at Larry and made a quick throat-cutting sign. Larry stepped out of sight.
    ‘‘She’s not here?’’ Wyatt asked, coming up.
    Anna shook her head: ‘‘No. She’s gone.’’
    ‘‘Could be a joke,’’ Harper said. ‘‘Louis wouldn’t . . .’’
    Anna looked at him as though he were crazy, and said, ‘‘No, Louis wouldn’t.