Chen said, “What about the gun? Is the weapon one of the guns we have?”

“You might dig around about that, too. Compare the number of weapons logged into evidence with the weapons you have. See if the numbers add up.”

John Chen’s heart was pounding so hard his ears hurt. Pike was implying some sort of conspiracy and possibly a cover-up. Forget the local news losers-if Chen played his cards right, he might end up on the national news. Maybe even 60 Minutes! All thoughts of Ronda were gone.

Pike drifted away toward the Lexus.

“Check it out, John. Call Elvis.”

Pike slipped into the car like he was made of hot butter, then drove away. Chen stared after them, watching the girl, certain she would go down on the lucky bastard before they reached the exit.

Chen turned back to the lab, scowling. After the way he carried on about seeing a dentist, Harriet would wonder why he never left the parking lot. But then Chen realized she had already given him an out-she had told him the pain would pass, and he would tell her it had. Everyone liked being told they were right, and he would also earn points by selflessly returning to work so they wouldn’t fall further behind!

John Chen was not the world’s smartest criminalist for nothing.

John ran back to the lab, and immediately went to work.

Ronda would get over it.

14

LOSING TIME was like losing blood, and Pike felt the seconds draining away. Pike knew the girl was uneasy about returning to her neighborhood. This was where her nightmare began. The accident. The Kings. Alexander Meesh. But this was exactly why she had to return. Animals left trails where they passed, and so did men. Since Meesh and the Kings had been at this place, they might have left a trail. Pike intended to drop off the girl with Cole, then head for home. The man or men who entered his home had left a trail, too, and Pike already knew where to find it.

The drive south from Glendale was tedious with the heavy afternoon traffic, and ugly with the power cables and train yards that bordered the river. It was a dirty, grey part of Los Angeles that never seemed clean, even after the rains, and when they finally crossed back to the west side, the area in which Larkin lived wasn’t much better. The streets were lined with warehouses waiting to be brought up to earthquake standards or razed, and other buildings housing storage units or sweatshops where minimum-wage immigrants built cabinetry and decorative metalwork. Everything about the area was industrial.

Cole was waiting on the block where the accident occurred, only three blocks from the girl’s building. His yellow Corvette was parked on the opposite side of the street, but Cole was standing in a nearby doorway, out of the sun.

When Larkin saw him, she said, “What’s he doing here?”

“Working. He came down earlier to establish the scene at the time of the accident.”

“I don’t think it’s safe. What if they’re waiting for me?”

“Elvis would wave us away.”

“How does he know?”

Pike didn’t bother answering. He was already missing the silence.

The curbs were lined with cars, but Pike found a spot to park half a block past the alley. Cole waited for an eighteen-wheel van to pass, then crossed the street to join them. Cole was wearing olive green cargo shorts, a floral short-sleeved shirt, and a faded Dodgers cap. Pike thought he was moving a little more easily today.

Cole grinned at the girl.

“Nice neighborhood. Reminds me of Fallujah.”

“Nice clothes. Reminds me of a twelve-year-old.”

Cole turned the grin toward Pike.

“I love it when she talks that way.”

They were at the exact spot where the girl plowed into the Mercedes. A thin alley opened onto the street. It was a dirty fissure between two dingy warehouses. Dozens of shirtless men and chunky women wearing straw hats milled around outside the alley, ordering up orange sodas and bottles of water from a catering van at the curb. Pike scanned the rooflines and windows, then turned back to Cole. He wanted to roll on, but he also wanted Cole’s report.

Pike said, “Okay.”

“Nada. I talked to every business for two blocks in each direction. Everything closes at six o’clock, and none of these people carry a night watchman except for a shipping company down there-”

Cole tipped his head toward the block behind them.

“See the fence with the concertina wire? They use a night guy, but he didn’t see anything. Says he didn’t even know an accident happened until the feds came around.”

Pike raised his eyebrows at that, and Cole nodded.

“Yeah. Your feds have been grinding this thing. I asked about security cams, too, thinking we might luck into a street angle off one of these parking lots, but that was another goose egg. Couple of inside cameras, but nobody runs a camera showing the street.”

The girl said, “You just knocked on their doors and asked?”

“Sure. That’s what investigators do.”

“Dressed like that?”

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

Pike said, “Did you get the accident report?”

“Yeah-”

Cole pulled folded papers from his cargo shorts and used them to point at the street.

“The accident occurred here at the mouth of the alley. Ms. Barkley was proceeding up the street toward us-”

Cole pointed in the opposite direction.

“-heading for home, which is three blocks farther down.”

Cole glanced at Larkin-

“Nice building, by the way. Nicely done.”

– then opened the papers to show a sketch drawn by the accident investigator on the night of the accident. A rectangle showed the position of Larkin’s car, along with lines illustrating the relevant skid marks, and measurements. Pike had drawn several such sketches during his boot year as a patrol officer. One set of skids was labeled ASTON MARTIN. A shorter set was labeled UNKNOWN.

Larkin moved closer to see.

“What is this?”

“I had a friend sneak me a copy of the accident report. I wanted to see what happened.”

“I told you what happened.”

“I know, but I wanted to see the report. Accident like this, the officers list witnesses.”

Pike said, “They find someone?”

“That would be way too easy. No one was found at the scene except Ms. Barkley.”

Cole turned back toward the alley and went on with his report.

“The alley continues through to the next street. The building here on the right is abandoned. Doors on the front, back, and sides are chained, and you can tell from the dust and rust they haven’t been opened in years. The other building here is set up as a factory. They make ceramic knickknacks and souvenirs. Considering that one building is empty and the other is filled with replicas of the Hollywood Bowl, it’s a pretty good bet the Kings weren’t down here for a sex party.”

Larkin said, “I told you. They were backing out.”

Cole raised his eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, but why here and why then? We know why you were here. You were going home. Why were they here?”

The girl said, “I don’t know.”

“That was rhetorical.”

Pike studied the position of the cars in the sketch, and pictured the girl’s Aston Martin sideways in the street. She had slammed into the Mercedes on the driver’s side behind the rear wheel as it backed into the street. The force of the impact kicked the Mercedes a quarter turn counterclockwise, and her car had spun to a rest, pointing toward the Mercedes, one headlight smashed but the other illuminating the scene. The police sketch matched everything the girl had described. She had gotten out of her car to help, then returned to her car for her phone. The Kings drove away. Meesh left the scene on foot.

Pike said, “Which way did Meesh go?”

The girl stepped between them as if something was waiting for her and pointed up the street.