There was a perfectly placed pickup in the front row, but with no vehicle on either side, it was too exposed. Next best location? The SUV one row away, with a minivan on the other side. Dark tinted windows meant I could creep up the side of the vehicle and take the shot over the hood, hidden behind the cab.

I slid the cell phone into my pocket and the gun into the holster. Then I set out, darting from oversized vehicle to oversized vehicle, leapfrogging across three rows. I slipped up along the SUV and checked my trajectory. Perfect. Target in sight and in line.

As I watched him, the world around seemed to constrict, like looking through a spyglass, everything focused on that one patch of the universe. The rumble of conversation from the smoking pit fell to a whisper. The bright sun faded, my eyes opening wider behind my sunglasses. The smell of cigarettes and exhaust disappeared. All I saw, all I cared about, was him.

I let myself hang there, in that pocket. One moment to revel in the exhilaration of total focus. Then, slowly, I closed my eyes, inhaled and shifted out of the bubble. As blissful as it was, I couldn’t stay there. Too cut off from the world, too unaware of my surroundings.

I traced my finger over the gun grip, but didn’t unholster it. Finding the perfect shot was step one. Deciding whether to take it was another.

This man still posed a threat. A hitman doesn’t drop a job when the first attempt fails, not unless he’s been made. So he’d try again, which was reason enough to kill him.

But killing him here was risky. Although I saw no cameras, this was a prison. There would be armed guards nearby. Yet should I decide he needed to die, all that would be merely obstacles, not barriers.

If I did this, though, I might never know who he was. A hitman hired by Evelyn? Someone sent by the Nikolaevs? Or the Helter Skelter killer himself?

I needed answers, and I wouldn’t get them by killing him. So I closed my jacket and withdrew to my first hiding place. I watched him for another twenty minutes. Then after one lingering look at his watch, he took keys from his pocket and started walking. I hurried back to my car.

He pulled out of the lot in a gray rental. I noted his license number and details of the vehicle itself, then waited until he was nearly out of sight before pursuing.

I followed the car along the highway, up the off-ramp and through the city streets. I stayed far enough back that he never saw me, but close enough that I never lost sight of him.