Indigo Slam: An Elvis Cole Novel
“If I couldn’t slip the Russians and the feds by slick driving, maybe I could wear them out with LA’s morning rush-hour traffic.
The condo Pike had found for a safe house sat in the rear of a quiet, two-level garden building just off Cold-water Canyon near the Studio City Park. It was a classic ranch-style building of the kind constructed in the late fifties, all dark-stained wood and used brick, with mature pine trees lining the sidewalk and a parking lot for residents in the rear. Just the kin...d of place where unsuspecting inhabitants would never dream that the new people in the corner apartment were being stalked by homicidal maniacs from Seattle.
I parked at the curb, gathered the catalogs I’d taken from Clark’s duffel bag, then wandered through the garden courtyard until I found the right door. I rang the bell at ten minutes after nine. Charles’s muffled voice came from behind the door as if he’d been waiting there. “Go away.”
I said, “Charles.” What a way to start your morning.MoreLess
The condo Pike had found for a safe house sat in the rear of a quiet, two-level garden building just off Cold-water Canyon near the Studio City Park. It was a classic ranch-style building of the kind constructed in the late fifties, all dark-stained wood and used brick, with mature pine trees lining the sidewalk and a parking lot for residents in the rear. Just the kin...d of place where unsuspecting inhabitants would never dream that the new people in the corner apartment were being stalked by homicidal maniacs from Seattle.
I parked at the curb, gathered the catalogs I’d taken from Clark’s duffel bag, then wandered through the garden courtyard until I found the right door. I rang the bell at ten minutes after nine. Charles’s muffled voice came from behind the door as if he’d been waiting there. “Go away.”
I said, “Charles.” What a way to start your morning.MoreLess
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