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Darkly dreaming Dexter :: Lindsay Jeffry P.
Страница: 145 из 160There was a blare ofhorns and some muffled shouting and we were at the guard booth.
The guard leaned out, a thin, muscular black man. “Lady, you can't-”
She held up her badge. “Police. Open the gate.” She said it with such hard-edged authority that I almost jumped out of the car to open the gate myself.
But the guard froze, took a breath through his mouth, and glanced nervously back into the booth. “What you want with-”
“Open the fucking gate, Rental,” she told him, jiggling her badge, and he finally unfroze.
“Lemme see the badge,” he said. LaGuerta held it up limply, making him take the extra step over to peer at it. He frowned at it and found nothing to object to. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Can you tell me what you want in there?”
“I can tell you that if you don't open the gate in two seconds I'm gonna put you in the trunk of my car and take you downtown to a holding cell full of gay bikers and then I'm gonna forget where I put you.”
The guard stood up. “Just trying to help,” he said, and called over his shoulder, “Tavio, open the gate!”
The gate went up and LaGuerta gunned her car through. “Sonnova bitch got something going he doesn't want me to know about,” she said. There was amusement in her voice to go with the rising edge of excitement. “But I don't care about smuggling tonight.” She looked at me. “Where we going?”
“I don't know,” I said. “I guess we should start over where he left his truck.”
She nodded, accelerating down the path between stacks of storage boxes. “If he's got a body to carry, he probably parked pretty close to wherever he was going.” As we got closer to the fence she slowed down, nosing the car quietly to within fifty feet of the truck and then stopping. “Let's take a look at the fence,” she said, slamming the transmission into park and sliding out of the car as it rocked to a stop.
I followed. LaGuerta stepped in something she didn't like and lifted her foot to look at her shoe. “Goddamint,” she said. I moved past her, feeling my pulse hammering loud and fast, and went to the truck. I walked around it, trying the doors. They were locked, and although there were two small back windows, these were painted over from the inside. I stood on the bumper and tried to peek in anyway, but there were no holes in the paint job. There was nothing more to be seen on this side, but I squatted anyway and looked on the ground. I felt rather than heard LaGuerta slither up behind me.
“What you got?” she asked, and I stood.
“Nothing,” I said.
The guard leaned out, a thin, muscular black man. “Lady, you can't-”
She held up her badge. “Police. Open the gate.” She said it with such hard-edged authority that I almost jumped out of the car to open the gate myself.
But the guard froze, took a breath through his mouth, and glanced nervously back into the booth. “What you want with-”
“Open the fucking gate, Rental,” she told him, jiggling her badge, and he finally unfroze.
“Lemme see the badge,” he said. LaGuerta held it up limply, making him take the extra step over to peer at it. He frowned at it and found nothing to object to. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Can you tell me what you want in there?”
“I can tell you that if you don't open the gate in two seconds I'm gonna put you in the trunk of my car and take you downtown to a holding cell full of gay bikers and then I'm gonna forget where I put you.”
The guard stood up. “Just trying to help,” he said, and called over his shoulder, “Tavio, open the gate!”
The gate went up and LaGuerta gunned her car through. “Sonnova bitch got something going he doesn't want me to know about,” she said. There was amusement in her voice to go with the rising edge of excitement. “But I don't care about smuggling tonight.” She looked at me. “Where we going?”
“I don't know,” I said. “I guess we should start over where he left his truck.”
She nodded, accelerating down the path between stacks of storage boxes. “If he's got a body to carry, he probably parked pretty close to wherever he was going.” As we got closer to the fence she slowed down, nosing the car quietly to within fifty feet of the truck and then stopping. “Let's take a look at the fence,” she said, slamming the transmission into park and sliding out of the car as it rocked to a stop.
I followed. LaGuerta stepped in something she didn't like and lifted her foot to look at her shoe. “Goddamint,” she said. I moved past her, feeling my pulse hammering loud and fast, and went to the truck. I walked around it, trying the doors. They were locked, and although there were two small back windows, these were painted over from the inside. I stood on the bumper and tried to peek in anyway, but there were no holes in the paint job. There was nothing more to be seen on this side, but I squatted anyway and looked on the ground. I felt rather than heard LaGuerta slither up behind me.
“What you got?” she asked, and I stood.
“Nothing,” I said.