Both Pearl in the front seat and Felix in the back had turned their heads to the right as though studying the view from the passenger-side windows. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Boggart’s focus drift in our direction and fix on Pearl, conspicuous by reason of her size and the telltale black knit watch cap. He squinted at the sight of her. He had no reason in the world to think we were up to no good. Then again, like the paranoids in every walk of life, he had no reason to think we weren’t. He tracked the rear of the Mustang as I turned right onto Cabana. It might have been my Grabber Blue 1970 Mustang he found so fascinating, but I doubted it.

I continued around the big bend in the road and took a right at the next light, turning onto the street that fronted the zoo, which was closed for the day, its entrance barred by a gate with a wooden arm. The parking lot was empty, and even at a distance I could see the wrought iron gates were locked. The turnstiles behind them were in shadow.

Felix leaned forward, arms on the front seat, talking into my right ear. “Keep on this road around to Milagro.”

I did as instructed, wondering if this was how a bank robber felt when he’d been assigned to drive the getaway car. There was a produce market on the corner a couple of blocks farther on. It was open for business seven days a week with an expansive parking lot on the far side. I’d passed the market any number of times. I’d even shopped there on occasion, impressed by the lavish displays of fresh fruits and vegetables. I caught the scent of celery as I drove by—I swear I can smell celery half a block away—and wished I were eating a bowl of homemade vegetable soup instead of being cooped up with a homeless pair who reeked of cigarettes. I turned right onto Milagro and then right again into the parking lot.

The Union Pacific rail lines run between the highway and the periphery of the lot, which was topped with a mix of gravel and asphalt. There were ten or twelve cars parked close to the market, but the remainder of the lot was empty. I drove to the far end, where I could see the pavement shrink to a narrow road that snaked upward and out of sight. I followed the road. The hill rose gradually with trees on either side forming a canopy overhead. The roadbed was not quite wide enough for two cars to pass, but I didn’t picture much in the way of traffic.