“Fair enough.”

“Now can I have the phone, please?”

“No, you can’t.” Again he drilled into her eyes. “Koby’s bought you a whole lot of goodwill.”

“So let me call and thank him.”

“No, because right now, I’m going to buy you a set of balls.”

Silence. Cindy blinked, staring at her father. “I’ve done okay for twenty-eight years without them. What on earth do you have in mind?”

Decker answered her question by starting the Porsche. It roared, then purred. He peeled rubber, going south onto Wilton until he hit Olympic. Then he went east toward downtown L.A. “Somebody tried to kill you, Cynthia. Aren’t you curious?”

She didn’t answer. The question was rhetorical.

Decker said, “Am I correct in assuming that you still have no idea who perpetrated the hit-and-run against Belinda Syracuse?”

“Yes. I don’t have a clue.”

“It’s an open case?”

“So far as I know.”

“So let’s junk that because we haven’t any leads. Now Sarah Sanders’s rape is a different story. Tell me about the guy you hauled in.”

“Germando El Paso.”

“Yeah, him. Do you know where he is at the moment?”

“In County lockup.”

“You checked.”

“Not me, personally. I think Brill made the call.”

“But as you stated so succinctly, El Paso’s buddies aren’t locked up. Refresh my memory. Tell me about them again.”

She rubbed her forehead. “Germando gave us two names— Joseph Fedek and Pepe Renaldes. Fedek’s whereabouts are unknown; Renaldes has an address.”

“What’s the address?”

“I don’t remember off the top of my head. I wrote it down in my notes.”

“Where are your notes? At home?”

“They’re in my locker. Go back to the station house and I’ll—”

“No, I don’t want you going back there. Do you remember the area he lives in?”

“Oh gosh … let me think. I remember he works for Do-Rite Construction.”

“No good. We don’t want any third party involved.”

This time, she gave him the full force of her eyes. “The DA told me that Renaldes is strictly off-limits because El Paso talked without an attorney present. If I talk to Renaldes, I could mess up a future indictment for Sarah Sanders’s rape case.”

Decker glared at her. “And you give a solitary shit what this little prick has to say when there’s someone out there who’s trying to blow your head off?”

Cindy looked at her lap. “Phrased in that manner, I suppose not.”

“What area?” Decker repeated.

“Okay … okay … uh … I have this recollection of Exposition Park. If I could just dash in and check my locker, I could—”

“Cindy, you’ve been temporarily relieved. You don’t go near the station until they tell you to come in.” Decker spoke through gritted teeth. He hit Western and headed for the freeway on-ramp. “Okay. Exposition Park. Near USC or … ?”

She closed her eyes. “Maybe Forty-second Street. Why does that sound familiar?”

“It’s a musical, Cynthia.”

“Yes!” Cindy lifted a finger in the air. “Yes! Brilliant!” She grinned. “Exactly! It wasn’t Forty-second, it was Thirty-second and Broadway, because I remember thinking that his address sounded like a musical!”