is it he’s doing?”
“Leaving his key. Maybe someone was supposed to pick up his car.”
The scimitar flashed again.
“Someone did, yes? The police.”
Pike expected them to walk out of the frame, but they remained by the Challenger. Bender crossed his arms. Karbo leaned against the car. Their conversation died, and both men looked bored.
Ekizian scowled.
“Now they just stand? They come this early for why?”
“Let’s see.”
Ekizian waved his hand at the image.
“They just standing.”
“They’re waiting.”
Two minutes later, headlights flashed again as a new vehicle swung through the entrance. Bender had not arrived in the Buick. The Buick had just arrived.
The Buick pulled forward, and parked beside the Challenger. A man wearing a sport coat climbed out, and handed the key to Bender.
Ekizian said, “Another? All these men, did all of them kidnap your friend?”
“Looks like.”
“This new one, is he also dead?”
“Not yet.”
The scimitar smile returned.
The new man looked to be in his early forties. He was taller than Karbo and Bender and solidly built. His face was so pale, the lights in the parking lot made him seem ghostly.
The pale man did most of the talking. Karbo and Bender listened, facing him like employees. They spoke for exactly four minutes and twenty-two seconds before headlights flashed again. A 4Runner entered the parking lot, and stopped broadside to the camera. It looked identical to the 4Runner outside Isabel’s home. The pale man climbed into the shotgun seat, and the 4Runner pulled away. Karbo and Bender went to the Buick, and left a few seconds later. An eerie, nighthawk stillness settled over the parking lot.
Pike said, “Once more. Do you mind? I’d like to see the Buick arrive.”
“I no mind. You want pictures? I can take grabs from the screen and make pictures.”
“Pictures would be nice. Thank you.”
Ekizian rolled back the video.
The Buick pulled forward, and parked beside the Challenger. The driver’s door opened, and the pale man climbed out. When he stepped from the Buick, he gripped the top of the door and faced the camera.
The corner of Pike’s mouth ticked. A tiny twitch, too small to see.
Karbo, Bender, the pale man, and the 4Runner’s driver.
Four.
Four people had taken Isabel. Pike wondered if others were involved, and why so many conspired to steal her.
We know your secret.
Pike had a secret, too.
The pale man was in his sights, and none of them knew.
21.
Elvis Cole
Cole stopped at a minimart not far from Ted Kemp’s home. He grabbed a Diet Coke from an upright cooler, and scoured a rack of newspapers. The Los Angeles Times and USA Today were available, but he saw nothing local. Cole glanced up, and found the clerk watching.
Cole said, “What’s the local paper up here?”
The clerk was a thin guy in his early twenties with limp hair and a spray of zits on his chin. His eyes were lifeless and dull, like a daydreaming cow.
“We have three or four, but we don’t carry them.”
The death of journalism.
“Name one.”
“The Desert Breeze. It’s a weekly.”
Cole paid for the Coke, and settled against the cooler. He googled the Desert Breeze, and found a story dated four days earlier.
LOCAL MAN MURDERED
by William F. Wu
for The Desert Breeze
A body discovered in a Leona Valley cherry orchard has been identified as Theodore Kemp, 64, an area resident.
Ms. Janice Webb, 47, was inspecting the irrigation system early Tuesday morning when her German shepherd discovered the body.
The cause of death was a gunshot wound to the head.
Sgt. Ray Pierce of the L.A. County Sheriffs Palmdale substation is in charge of the investigation.
“Mr. Kemp was murdered at a separate location, and transported to the orchard postmortem. His body was found partially interred. If anyone has information regarding the crime, please contact Detective Donna Baez or myself at the Palmdale substation.”
Mr. Kemp has been an Antelope Valley resident for twenty-six years, and was well liked in the community. An Air Force veteran, Mr. Kemp was a retired United States Marshal, an avid golfer, and a member of the West Desert Country Club. He was divorced, and has no survivors.
Funeral arrangements have not been announced, pending the investigation.
The lack of details was disappointing.
Cole glanced up. The clerk still watched him, but didn’t react.
Cole said, “Hey.”
The clerk said, “Hey.”
“Mind if I stand here?”
“Uh-uh.”
Blank.
Cole found the Desert Breeze phone number, and put in a call. A woman answered with a rough smoker’s voice.
“Desert Breeze.”
“William Wu, please.”
“He’s out. Want his voice mail?”
“I’m calling in regard to a story he wrote about the Kemp murder.”
“He still isn’t here. Whatcha need?”
“The story’s dated four days ago. I