The first man waited beneath a jacaranda tree on the opposite side of the street, jeans, sunglasses, knit shirt tight at the shoulders. He openly stared as Pike passed, then fell in behind at a casual jog, three or four car lengths back.

The second man was leaning against a car with his arms crossed. He watched Pike and the woman pass, then he, too, fell in behind. Pike knew they were plainclothes police officers, so he decided to give himself room. He grunted a good-bye, and picked up his pace.

The woman said, “See you next time.”

As Pike drifted to the center of the street, a blue sedan pulled out from a cross street two blocks behind. One block ahead, a tan sedan pulled from the curb, boxing him in. Two men were in the front seat of the tan car, with a woman in back on the passenger side. Pike saw her turn to see him. Short brown hair. Wraparound sunglasses. Frown. The man in the passenger seat dangled a badge out the open window, letting Pike see.

Pike eased to a stop. The sedans and trailing officers stopped when Pike stopped, everyone keeping their distance.

The tattooed woman realized something was happening, and nervously danced on her toes.

“Dude, what is this?”

“Keep going.”

She didn’t keep going. She edged toward the nearest house, clearly frightened as she glanced from car to car.

“I don’t like this. You want me to get help?”

“They’re police. They just want to talk to me.”

If they wanted to arrest him, they wouldn’t have approached in the middle of a residential street. If they wanted to kill him, they would have already tried.

The man with the badge got out of the lead car. He was balding, with a thin mustache that was too dark for the rest of his hair. His driver got out, too, a younger man with bright eyes. The woman remained in the car, twisted around to watch. She was on her cell phone. Pike wondered what she was saying.

The man with the badge said, “Jack Terrio, LAPD. This is Lou Deets. Okay if we come over there?”

They knew who he was, and so did the officers who had established a perimeter behind the two sedans. They had blocked the street and were rerouting traffic onto the cross streets.

“Sure.”

Pike unshouldered his rucksack. He ran with a weighted ruck, and also wore a fanny pack, a sleeveless gray sweatshirt, New Balance running shoes, blue shorts, and government-issue sunglasses. The sweatshirt was dark with sweat.

When Terrio and Deets reached him, Deets stood to the side.

“That’s some nice ink you have there, Pike, the red arrows. Don’t see many like that, do we, boss?”

Terrio ignored him.

“You armed?”

“Gun’s in the fanny pack. With the license.”

Deets toed the ruck.

“What’s in there, a rocket launcher?”

“Flour.”