That’s what happens when you have no life, Hayes thought as he took the exit for Encino. “Let’s hope Yolanda and Sebastian Salazar are home,” he said. A few blocks off Ventura Boulevard, the houses were small and compact, single-story, post–World War II, with big yards where the grass was beginning to turn brown.

The Salazars lived on a corner lot, the stucco covering their house painted a light color that resembled ash in the bluish glow from the streetlights. A large chain-link fence circled the side yard, where a sign in bold letters read: BEWARE OF DOG.

“Great.” Martinez shrank into the front seat. “I hate dogs.”

Hayes scowled. “How can you hate dogs?”

“Got bitten as a kid. Had to have plastic surgery and a lot of physical therapy. Harriet, the neighbors’ dachshund. Nasty little thing.”

“You can’t judge all dogs by Harriet.”

“Wanna bet?” she said as Hayes cut the engine.

“You know that they smell your fear, Martinez,” Bentz persisted. “As long as you’re afraid of them, you won’t be able to go near them.”

“Fine with me,” she said. “I’m happy to keep my distance.”

Before they opened the Toyota’s doors the dog in question began barking and snarling wildly from the other side of the fence. The furious creature was black and tan, with jaws as wide as Arkansas and teeth that flashed angrily. A Rottweiler mix from the looks of him, Hayes guessed.

“Oh, yeah, he’s gonna be a real sweetheart, this one.” Martinez’s hand was frozen on the door handle. “Let’s just call him Fluffy.”

In his rearview mirror, Hayes saw Bentz starting to get out of the backseat.

“Don’t even think about it,” Hayes told him. He couldn’t have Bentz go off half-cocked. As far as Hayes was concerned Bentz was advising on the case, nothing more. Although he didn’t side with Andrew Bledsoe and Dawn Rankin, who had insinuated that Bentz was somehow involved in the murders, he couldn’t allow Bentz to investigate for the LAPD. Bentz was no longer on the payroll here, and it would seriously compromise the case. He probably shouldn’t even have brought him here, but Hayes had to give the guy some credit. So far, Bentz had been the only one to make some real headway in this case.

Hayes barely glanced at the side yard as the dog created a ruckus loud enough to wake the dead. From the back of the house a man yelled, “Rufus! You hush!”

Rufus ignored the command. If anything, the big dog seemed more agitated than ever, running in circles and drooling anxiously as he kept up his incessant barking. Judging by the lack of grass on Rufus’s side of the fence, this wasn’t a new routine.

“So much for the element of surprise,” Hayes said under his breath.