Read Gridlock: A Ryan Lock Novel for Free Online

would be?’
    Lock gave his name and why he was there.
    The uniform stared at him. ‘This is a crime scene, sir. You’ll have to wait for this young woman until we’re finished talking with her. You understand me?’
    Lock was neither surprised nor upset by the officer’s reaction. If he’d been doing the same job he would have reacted in the same way. Cops viewed private security contractors as wannabe cops. In Lock’s experience many of them were.
    He walked back to the car to be greeted by a barking Angel. Carrie was down the street, away from the crime scene, chatting up one of the neighbors
    ‘Any information?’ Lock asked her, as she stepped away from the couple she’d been talking to.
    ‘ Nada . Raven Lane keeps herself to herself. Most of the neighbors had no idea what she did for a living until tonight. Or, at least, that’s what they’re saying. I’m not sure any man is going to admit he recognizes a porn star when his wife’s standing next to him.’
    They waited a couple more hours, then Lock called the cell-phone number Raven had given him. She picked up straight away.
    ‘I’m at the end of the street,’ he said.
    Maybe now that she’d had a chance to collect her thoughts, she’d change her mind about needing his help. He was hoping she would.
    ‘Let me see if they’ll let me leave,’ she said. ‘The guy from the Threat Management Unit is here too. Would you like to speak to him?’
    ‘That would be great,’ said Lock. He got out of the car and took a look down the street. The uniformed cop he’d spoken to earlier and who was now helping to secure the perimeter glared at him. Lock waved the fingers of his right hand at him. The uniform said something to the officer standing next to him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t complimentary.
    Lock ignored him, focusing on the house in the street with the greatest concentration of vehicles parked outside. It was about six down on the left-hand side.
    The San Fernando Valley, which was where they were now, was cheaper than the prime real estate on the west side of the city. It divided up into nice neighbourhoods, and not-so-nice neighbourhoods. It was also further from the coast and, as the name suggested, its topography made for a hotter climate. In high summer the temperature could reach 120 degrees Fahrenheit for weeks on end. However, even with sweltering conditions and a shitty real-estate market, Lock guessed you wouldn’t be left with much change from a million dollars for the house he was looking at.
    With its neatly trimmed front lawn dotted with flower-shaped sprinkler heads, its newly painted white exterior and freshly varnished white oak front door, it certainly wasn’t the kind of place you’d associate with a stripper. Of course, the open garage door at the front lowered the tone of the whole neighbourhood: it was being swarmed over by a whole host of forensics techs. Inside, he could just about glimpse what he assumed was Raven Lane’s car, a dark blue BMW sedan.
    Lock had been so busy studying the house and all the activity that he had barely noticed the woman walking through the police line towards him. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail revealing delicate features, and the most striking violet eyes he’d ever seen were set above high cheekbones and a turned-up nose. She walked with a sense of purpose, looking straight ahead, but there was a vulnerability to her as well. All of a sudden the million-dollar house made sense to him.
    This was a woman whom men would go to war over. And it looked like one, in his own sick fashion, already had.

7
     
    Next to Raven, a hefty guy with a bushy head of tight black curly hair, wearing grey slacks and a white shirt with a shoulder holster, struggled to keep up. Lock guessed that this was one of the officers from the LAPD’s Threat Management Unit. He hoped he was good at catching stalkers because, judging by the roll of fat spilling over his belt, he sure as hell wasn’t going