“You see him this morning?”

“Man, we ain’t married. I got my own life.”

Pike hit him again, harder than before, then shook him to help clear his head.

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. After his release.”

“Where?”

Pike wanted to see if Hector was playing it straight.

“Here, bro. Homes made bail, he hung out for a while, then split. You know how it is.”

“Where’d he go when he left here?”

“Home to his old lady, I guess. I dunno. We was gonna get together, but I never heard back.”

“Was Gomer with him?”

“I dunno.”

Pike searched Hector for weapons, but found only keys, a cell phone, and a wallet. He held up the keys.

“The Monte Carlo?”

Hector nodded, and Pike jerked him to the door.

“Let’s go. Outside.”

“You takin’ my car?”

“I’m taking you.”

Chapter 13

13

Pike shoved Hector into the passenger seat, then slid in behind the wheel and powered away. Hector shriveled from Pike like a deflating balloon, his eyes snapping like shutters.

“Where you takin’ me? Where we goin’, homes?”

Pike didn’t answer. He drove five blocks into the residential neighborhood to put distance between himself and the body shop before he pulled to the curb. Hector shrank even farther away, inching up the door.

Pike went through Hector’s wallet. He found thirty-two dollars, pictures of people who were probably Hector’s family, some discount coupons, and two California driver’s licenses. Both showed Hector’s picture, but with different names, addresses, and DOBs. One identified Hector as Hector Francis Perra with a Ghost Town address, the other as Juan Rico with a Van Nuys address. Pike returned everything to the wallet, then looked at Hector.

“Mendoza.”

“I don’t know where he is. I tol’ you. How the fuck I’m supposed to know?”

Pike drew the Python and pressed it into Hector’s thigh.

“Show me where he lives.”

Hector directed him to a small flat-roofed bungalow at the edge of Ghost Town near Inglewood. The stucco siding flowered with water damage, but the yard was surprisingly neat. Two stringy palms cast Marks-A-Lot shadows across a Honda Maxima in the drive. Pike cruised past, then parked on the next block with an eyes-forward view of the house.

Pike said, “That his car?”

“His girlfriend. This is her place. He lives with her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Carla Fuentes.”

“Kids?”

“No, but that bitch is tryin’. I tell him he better watch out.”