Jessica and Holliday emerged into the afternoon sun, hands raised to their faces to shade their eyes from the glare. As they turned around the side of the building toward the lot where their trucks were parked, a car sitting at the curb farther down the street caught Jessica’s eye.

It was a black SUV with a silver grille and tinted windows.

“Son of a bitch,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”

Jessica hesitated. “I think I left my cell phone in the restaurant.”

Holliday frowned. “I didn’t notice it on the table when we left.”

“I’d better go check. I’ll catch you later.”

She walked back to the entrance to Pat and Lorraine’s and waved as Holliday drove past a few seconds later. The SUV was still parked farther along the street, behind a silver Honda, outside a hair salon. Towering palm trees lined the street and threw long shadows into her path as Jessica strode toward the car.

As she closed the distance between herself and the SUV, the calmness of the afternoon was shattered by the roar of an engine firing up and the growl of the gas pedal being pumped. She had almost reached the hair salon and the SUV. A high-pitched squeal filled the air as the SUV suddenly pulled away from the curb. Its tires burned, black streaks left in its wake, as the big vehicle careered into the road.

The SUV blew past at batshit crazy speed as Jessica stood rooted to the spot. Then she was running, legs pumping, feet pounding on asphalt, lactic acid exploding in her thighs, as she tried to make out the license plate. She realized the driver could be John Doe and the plate could be the lead she needed. But the car was already almost out of sight.

She returned to the parking lot and climbed behind the wheel of her truck. The quickest and most direct route back to the Blue Moon Inn would be to travel south along Eagle Rock Boulevard and then hook a left onto York at the ARCO station.

Instead, she took North Avenue Forty-Six and looped around the campus of Occidental College before turning down random streets until she hit York and approached the motel from the opposite direction. The whole time, Jessica checked the rearview mirror at regular intervals for a black SUV, or any other suspicious vehicles, but saw nothing that gave her cause for concern.

As she pulled off the street and into the lot, she spotted Hopper through the office window, behind the desk, working on some paperwork. Jessica parked next to the motel’s neon sign and smoked a cigarette and watched him for a few minutes.

Then she made her way across the lot to the office. Hopper looked up when he heard the door open and offered what looked to Jessica to be a sheepish smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss Shaw,” he said hesitantly.

“Please, call me Jessica.”