The two-room office suite was empty. The bedding and trash bags and gear were gone. Even the black sheet with its rectangular cuts was missing. The shakedown crew had moved on, and taken their video with them.

Pike ran back to his Jeep for Straw’s number, and called.

“Jack Straw.”

“Where are you?”

“Who is—Pike, is that you?”

“What’s going on with the video?”

“I have a man going through it right now.”

“Straw, I’m at your stakeout. It’s empty.”

“You need to relax, Pike. We closed that place down. The shakedown op is history. Most of my crew is already on their way home.”

“Louisiana doesn’t have a picture of the Bolivian.”

Straw was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was measured.

“I know they don’t. I spoke with an agent down there twenty minutes ago. So I’ve got Kenny looking at the recordings right now. If he sees anyone who looks suspicious—anyone who even remotely might be our guy—he will let me know. You better settle down, man. You sound like you’re losing it.”

Straw hung up.

Kenny. One man to look at hundreds of hours of video.

Pike settled back, and scanned the surrounding buildings and the gawkers on the sidewalks outside Rainey’s shop. Rainey probably wouldn’t return, but you never knew—Rainey had been running for years, but this time he hadn’t. Rainey had broken his pattern, and people never changed without a very good reason. Instead of running again, Rainey and Dru had moved in with Azzara, but left several things at Brown’s house, suggesting they felt the move would be temporary and they planned to return. Maybe Rainey left something at the house he needed before he would leave.

Pike drove to the house. The police had blocked the surrounding streets, so Pike left his Jeep on the boulevard and tried to cross the pedestrian bridge. The police had blocked the footbridges at both ends of the alley, so Pike found himself with three neighborhood women and six children at the construction site where Gomer had been murdered. They watched the activity as uniformed and plainclothes officers searched Brown’s house.

Pike spent little time looking at the police. Gawkers had gathered at the bridges and bike paths, and residents with a view of the scene were in their backyards. Pike searched the faces for Rainey, but knew the Bolivian killer might also be among them. If the killer was still hunting for Rainey, he might return to the house for the same reasons as Pike.

Pike found Lily Palmer’s card in his wallet, and called.

Jared answered, his voice low and dull.

“Hullo.”

“It’s Pike. Remember?”

Jared perked up.

“Oh, man, you should see this place. The cops are everywhere.”

“I know. I’m across the canal.”