Barkley suddenly turned away and threw up. Most everyone in the room glanced over but quickly turned away; only one person moved to help. A well-dressed young man with spectacles went to a bar and hurried back with a napkin.

Barkley said, “I’m sorry.”

Pike thought he looked sorry, and Pike felt sorry for him.

“Vahnich put a hundred twenty million dollars into an investment with the Kings, sixty from a drug cartel in Ecuador and sixty from his own sources. That means terrorists, Conner. It’s likely the Kings brokered the deal and thought they were coming to you for the balance.”

“Nobody came to me. I don’t know anything about this.”

“Came to your company, and your company was Kline.”

Cole said, “They needed two hundred million for the purchase. Kline probably figured he could steal the balance from you, or use your company’s position to raise what he needed, but not as an investor with the Kings. He needed to buy the properties through your company in order to hide what he was doing. So the Kings gave him the one-twenty, but he couldn’t raise the rest. Maybe Vahnich got scared because it was taking so long and wanted his money back. Kline probably blamed you to stall.”

Barkley listened to him like a dog waiting to be kicked. Everyone else in the room was listening, too.

Barkley wiped his mouth.

“My lawyers advised me to call the police and the banking commission. I should call Agent Pitman about this. We have to get some forensic accountants in here.”

Pike said, “You have a bigger problem than what Kline took. Vahnich still wants his money.”

Barkley took a gulp of air when he realized what this meant, and colored again.

“Is Larkin all right?”

“She’s fine.”

“Does she know-”

He wavered again, then got it out.

“Does she know I lied to her?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see her. I want to be with her right now.”

Pike glanced at Cole, and Cole nodded.

“We’ll take you.”

40

PIKE ROLLED with Bud and her father, and Cole trailed them alone. Bud drove, with Pike on the passenger side and Conner Barkley in the rear. Pike filled in Bud on everything he had learned from Chen about the identities of the men from Ecuador and their possible connection to the Mara Salvatrucha street gang, MS-13. Bud put in a call to a friend of his who worked the LAPD Gang Unit, and asked him to find out whether anyone named Carlos showed on the roster of the Los Angeles MS-13 clique. After Bud made the call, they drove on in silence.

Riding with Bud at the wheel held a strange familiarity Pike did not enjoy, as if he had been forced back to a place he made peace with leaving. Pike listened to Conner Barkley to avoid thinking about it. Barkley spent most of their drive on the phone, wheezing nervously as he filled in his managers and attorneys.

Bud said, “Been a long time, Officer Pike.”

Pike glanced over and knew Bud was feeling it, too-the familiarity they shared in the car, working crime and bad guys. Bud seemed warmed by it, but nothing felt the same about those days for Pike. He pointed ahead.

“Here’s where we turn.”

Pike directed them up the winding streets to the little house. The Lexus was still in the drive, and the old people were still on their porch. The two youngest Armenian cousins were washing their BMW, Adam and one Pike hadn’t met. They looked over when the Hummer parked behind the Lexus. Cole parked next door.

Conner Barkley finally closed his phone and leaned forward to look at the house.

“This is where you’ve been staying? Larkin must have hated it.”

Pike got out without answering, waited for Cole to limp up, then went to the house. Pike hopped onto the porch and rapped hard on the door one time to warn her.

“It’s me.”

Pike slipped the key into the deadbolt as he said it, and knew by the feel that the deadbolt wasn’t locked. Pike pushed open the door.

“Larkin.”

Cole, Bud, and Barkley clumped up onto the porch, coming inside as Pike called out.

“Larkin!”

Barkley said, “Larkin, are you here?”

Pike glanced at Cole, then Cole went to the kitchen while Pike checked her room and the bath. Her things were untouched, nothing was amiss, no signs of a struggle-it was two nights ago all over again. Larkin was gone.

Barkley put his hands on his hips, frowning.

“I thought she was supposed to be here.”

Pike was already heading to the door when a young voice called from outside-

“Yo, bro! Bro!”

Adam was on the front lawn, barefoot and wet from his car. He was shading his eyes from the sun, but Pike knew he had seen something, and knew it was bad.

“Everything right over here, yo? Mona, she okay?”

“She isn’t here. You see where she went?”

Cole, Bud, and Barkley had all come out. They clustered behind Pike on the porch.

Adam said, “Off with some cats. Wasn’t that stalker dude, was it?”

Barkley said, “What stalker? What’s he talking about?”

Pike hopped from the porch. Bud joined him, and Cole gimped down the steps. The milky sky had grown blinding, even through Pike’s shades.

Pike said, “Someone picked her up?”

“She seemed cool with it, yo? Else we woulda said something.”

Cole worked to relax the boy.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Say what happened.”

“We were right here. She didn’t call out or act like anything was wrong. They just got in the car.”

“How long ago?”

“Half hour, maybe, somethin’ like that. We were just soapin’ up.”

Bud stepped in closer, looking like a street cop even in the nice suit, but Pike could see he was tense. The white air seemed electric now with Larkin’s absence.

“You get a clear look at these people and their car? What about your friend?”

“Thas my cousin, Garo. Yeah, we both saw. Coupla Latin cats and a white dude. Real sugar ride. Not my style, but sweet-one of those big-ass American cars all chopped down with the low seats.”

“A lowrider?”

“Yeah, like that. I don’t know the make, but it was sweet. Midnight black, chrome dubs-”

Pike said, “You get the tag?”

“Sorry, bro.”

Bud headed for Garo as Pike unfolded the Interpol photo of Khali Vahnich. Adam nodded.

“Thas him, yo. That the stalker dude?”

Cole made a soft hiss.

“Jesus Christ. How did he find her? How could he find her here?”

Pike felt as if he had failed. He thought back to the dance club. Maybe it happened then. Maybe she had been recognized, and he had missed the tail.

Barkley called from the porch.

“Does he know where she is or not? Can someone tell me, please?”

Pike looked at the little house he had shared with Larkin Barkley, then went to the center of the street. He did it without thinking and wasn’t sure why. The black lowrider wasn’t going to be at the end of the block, and visible tire trails weren’t going to be scribed in the street, but maybe that’s why he went. Something deep in the DNA pushing him forward. Something primitive making him hunt.

Pike closed his eyes. He had kept her safe for five days, but now he had lost her. Larkin Conner Barkley was gone.

Something touched his back.

Pike opened his eyes and saw Cole.

“We’ll find her.”

Pike stared into Cole’s eyes and saw shadows behind the comfort. Two small reflections, Joe Pikes staring back.

Pike’s cell phone buzzed. Pike checked the number, but didn’t recognize it. He answered anyway. The timing was too damnably perfect for it to be anyone else.

“Pike.”

“I want the money.”

Pike had heard the soft accent before. It was Khali Vahnich.