When we reached the bottom, Ellen propped Klein against the car, shuddering and crying, her face turned away as she kept him in place while I popped the trunk. A bungee cord snicked loose as we slid him into the trunk, and I grabbed it and threw it in the back seat. As he rolled into the car, the shower curtain, tacky with blood, stuck on the carpet and shifted, revealing the corner of his blown-apart face. Just days since I’d seen him at Hollywood Forever, alive, if not well. I cursed under my breath, panting, unable to look away for a moment.

I pushed the trunk softly closed and shoved Ellen into the front seat. She was starting to hyperventilate, to make a strange sound deep in her lungs somewhere between a whistle and a howl.

“Stop that,” I said, my own voice harsh, almost unrecognizable. My arms were shaking from the effort it had taken to drag Klein down the fire escape, and my back was aching. I was crunched up against the steering wheel because Klein’s legs were shorter than mine and I didn’t want to stop to fix it until we’d driven him far, far away from the Alto Nido.

The glow of approaching headlights in the rearview blinded me for a moment. I turned the key in the ignition so sharply the car sputtered and died. Behind me, the headlights flicked their brights, annoyed. They’d gotten an eyeful of the vanity plate now, I thought. I ducked down in my seat and turned the engine again—this time, it caught. I stomped on the gas, spinning my wheels for a second as I screeched out of the alleyway, leaving scorched tire marks in my wake.

Ellen started to make a strange, high-pitched noise, unearthly. I couldn’t think with that sound in my head. But one thing was becoming clear. On the drive to Ellen’s apartment, I’d put off calling Lou. I’d had the fantasy I could handle it on my own. I’d already screwed up so many times. But now, with Klein decomposing in the car, I realized how mistaken I’d been. How much I needed her.

Lou would know what to do next. Lou would help me. I was almost positive.

Chapter 15

When Lou’s car pulled up behind me in the canyon, spewing gravel, I let out a long shuddering sigh and nearly buckled over the steering wheel. Don’t cry, I told myself. Don’t you fucking cry. Ellen was doing plenty of crying for us both.