Cole wedged his phone under his ear, trying to reconcile what Pike was telling him. It felt as if Pike was describing one reality while Cole had been working to understand another.

“What you’re telling me is these people are not being treated like prisoners.”

“Four guards were outside the house, and at least two more were inside. You put guards on the outside, you’re not keeping someone in, you’re keeping someone out.”

“I don’t get it. How did a Trece crew go from shaking down Smith to being his host in three days?”

Pike didn’t respond.

Cole said, “Feel free not to answer.”

“The way they were shaking hands tells me it’s business. The private jet tells me it’s big business.”

“You get the tail number?”

Cole copied the number as Pike recited it.

“Okay. I’ll try to find out who owns it. Where are you going?”

“Back to Azzara’s.”

“Come here first. I want to go with you.”

Cole thought for a moment, trying to sort out the new facts.

“Someone is hunting these people. We know that for sure. We thought it was Mendoza and Gomer, but it wasn’t, and now Miguel Azzara is their best friend.”

“Yes.”

“Protecting them?”

“You go into business with people, you take care of them.”

“I can’t help wondering why a Trece street gang and Mexican cowboys with their own jet need to be in business with a man who fries oysters.”

“I’ll be there soon. We’ll find out.”

Cole spent the next ten minutes trying to identify the owners of Citation Jet XB-CCL, but had no luck. He was still on hold with the FAA when his call waiting told him Lucy Chenier was calling. He dropped the FAA and took Lucy’s call.

Her voice was in full-on professional mode.

“Can you talk?”

“Absolutely. What did you find out?”

“I’m going to put you on speaker. Terry’s here.”

The sound qual ity went from crisp to hollow when she put him on speaker.

“Hey, Terry. Thanks for helping on this.”

“Hey, man, no problem. You hear me okay?”

“Hear you fine.”

Terry had a mellow voice with a woodsy Louisiana accent. He’d grown up in a family of police officers, and had been an officer himself before retiring to work as an investigator for Lucy’s firm.

Lucy said, “So you know, we’re in my office and we’re alone. No one can hear what we say except you, me, and Terry.”

“Okay.”

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah. It’s just us.”

“Joe isn’t there?”

“Not yet. He’s on his way.”

Cole wondered why she was being so legal.

“Okay. I’m emailing two pictures. Are you at your computer?”

“Will be. I’m going there now.”

“Tell me if they’re the people you know as Dru Rayne and Wilson Smith.”