“He’s slacking on the job, he’s disrespectful to the mother of a victim, he can’t return a goddamn phone call, and I’m the asshole?” Mendez said. “That’s fucked up.”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, Anthony,” Hicks said without rancor.

Mendez scowled and started the car. “I already have a mother.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re the navigator. Navigate.”

“Aye, aye, Captain Chivalry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hicks chuckled. “Nothing. You just can’t resist a damsel in distress, that’s all.”

“Very funny. I don’t happen to think it should be considered out of the ordinary to have some compassion for a woman who’s been through what this woman has been through.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Hicks said diplomatically. “Take a right on Santa Rosa. Like my wife says: You’ll make some lucky girl a fine husband one day.”

Except that day never seemed to come around, much to the dismay of his mother. And to a slightly lesser degree to his sisters, who were forever trying to fix him up with nice Spanish girls. He was the lone marriage holdout of the Mendez family. Not that he didn’t like the idea. It was just that he’d always been focused on his career, and the rest hadn’t worked out.

“From what everyone is saying about Mrs. Lawton, it doesn’t sound like there’s much danger of you falling in love with her,” Hicks said.

“Can we let this subject go, please?”

“Sounds to me like she must have horns and a tail. Teeth and claws at the least. Didn’t you notice? Left on Higuera.”

When they found the address Neri had given them, the hair stood up on the back of Mendez’s neck. The house was within sight of the San Luis Opisbo high school. A rich potential hunting ground for a predator of teenage girls.

The house was a typical southern California bungalow—beige stucco and a barrel tile roof—with overgrown purple bougainvillea and brilliant orange birds of paradise flanking the front porch steps. The yard was thin and weedy. The place had that odd feeling of vacancy about it.

Hicks went up onto the little porch. Mendez took a stroll around the back of the house and tried the back door. Locked. Through the window he could see the small kitchen. The counters were bare. There wasn’t so much as a water glass by the sink. The sun splashed in through a window, illuminating the layer of dust and the odd dead bug on the Mexican tile floor.

“Hey, you!”