I hit the speed-dial for Joe.

He's getting into his Lexus. He's wearing his uniform and he's alone. His wife is still home.

I shut my phone and waited. Pike called back two minutes later.

I'm three cars behind him, southbound. Looks like he's heading for the freeway.

Okay.

Pike would follow him to the freeway before turning back. Marx might have loaded the files back into his car, but I couldn't know that until I entered his house, so I sat in the fig tree and waited. I figured Marx would be gone for most of the day, but I was concerned about his wife. I wouldn't enter the house as long as she was present, and she might be one of those women who never left home. A housekeeper or guest might arrive, which would be even worse.

I waited.

My cell phone vibrated a few minutes later, making a soft buzz against my thigh. I thought it would be Pike, but it was Levy. He sounded excited and filled with interest.

I think you're right about Deputy Chief Marx, Elvis. He's been virtually absent from his office this week. He's turned his regular duties over to his assistants.

He's been busy. Bastilla and Munson have been removing task force files and giving them to Marx. Marx has been bringing them home.

Levy was quiet, then cleared his throat.

Which files?

I'll know when I see them. I'm outside his house.

Outside his home?

In a fig tree. I can't speak any louder.

Levy cleared his throat again.

You shouldn't be telling me this. I'm an officer of the court.

Did you talk to Ivy Casik?

I couldn't find her. I went to her apartment twice yesterday, but she wasn't home. Do you know if Marx or his people reached her?

Not yet. Maybe I'll know when I see the files.

Right. Well. Good luck.

Levy sounded uncomfortable.

I ended the call and went back to waiting. Pike called again almost two hours later, at five minutes after ten.

Want to switch places? Let you stretch your legs.

I'm good. I kinda like it here in the tree.

Your call.

The day wore on with glacial slowness. The mail was delivered, cars passed, and UPS dropped off a package. I was beginning to think I should have hijacked Marx's car when the garage door shivered open at twenty-six minutes after two and Marx's wife got into her SUV. I pressed the speed dial as the engine started.

She's coming out.

I had described her car the night before, but now I read off the license plate. The SUV backed into the street, then drove away in the same direction as Marx.

Heading your way.

You going in?

Soon as she's clear.