“Depends on who the boss is. If boss is authority man, then maybe he know. If boss is only one of the men, then no. We won’t know until we see. Is like a sergeant, and Michael is a colonel. The sergeant does not talk to the colonel. He talks to the captain.”

Pike looked at Cole.

“Maybe there’s a way to turn this around. Maybe we can make Darko find us.”

“Steal the money?”

“Follow these people from business to business, and hit him. Hit him so hard he has no other choice.”

Cole thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. You ready for something to eat?”

Cole stepped past him into the kitchen. Pike looked at Rina and Yanni. They whispered to each other in Serbian, and then Rina glanced over.

“We will go to motel. Here smells like cats. It is making me ill.”

Pike said, “Eat. I have a place you can stay. We’ll go after dinner.”

He took his new phone and stepped out onto Cole’s deck.

Chapter 25

25

THE NIGHT AIR WAS CLEAR, and chill, and the canyon below Cole’s home was quiet of man-made sounds. A wooden deck jutted from the back of Cole’s house, hanging out over the night-filled canyon like a diving board to nowhere. Pike went to the rail. The air felt good, and its clarity seemed to magnify the lights that fell away to the city. Out here on the deck, at the edge of the glow from within Cole’s home, Pike enjoyed the solitude.

He turned to face Cole’s home, and leaned into the rail, the wide glass face of the house an invisible wall. Rina and Yanni were still huddled together on the couch, and occasionally glancing outside. Cole was in the kitchen, busy with cooking.

Pike fished out the new phone, and called George Smith. He did not want to call, but he had to warn George about Walsh.

George answered on the first ring, his voice as American as a Modesto car salesman.

“This is George. Who’s calling, please?”

“Williams was dead. Williams, and two of his crew. Jamal Johnson and Samuel Renfro.”

George laughed.

“Well, there you go. Justice is swift.”

“Wasn’t me. Someone killed them the same night they murdered Frank.”

“Ah, are you asking if I knew? I did not.”

“Not asking. I thought you should know in case your friends in Odessa ask.”

“Then muchas gracias.”

“Something else you should know. The ATF was tracking my vehicle when I came by this morning. They might come around, knocking on doors.”

George was silent for several seconds, and when he spoke, the Modesto tone was edged with something dark.

“You brought them to my store?”

“I don’t know. They were tracking my vehicle. They know where I parked, and how long I parked there. I don’t know if they had eyeballs on me or not.”