Altadena Drive was a through street, and the Lincoln was well ahead of them as they went after it, but it was moving as slowly as the Prius.
“He doesn’t want to be stopped for speeding,” Rae said. The limit was twenty-five, and Lucas kept the Malibu at forty until they’d closed within a hundred yards, with another car between them.
They followed the Lincoln along a couple of freeways and off at an exit, now with a half dozen cars between them, and watched as the driver threaded down a few more streets and then parked in the lot at, and walked into, a grubby-looking club called Eagle Rocks. Lucas parked on the opposite side of the lot, from where he could still see the front door.
“I’ll take it from here,” Rae said. “I’m looking for my boyfriend. Watch my gun.”
“Call me on your phone right now and leave it open,” Lucas said. “Carry it in your hand. If you need help inside, yell and I’ll be there.”
* * *
—
RAE LEFT HER GLOCK on the passenger seat, got out, tucked her shirt into her skinny jeans, and disappeared through the doors of the club. She was back out a minute later, slid into the passenger seat.
“He was right inside the door, talking to a waitress,” Rae said. “I went by and asked the bartender if he’d seen Bobby and he said he didn’t know any Bobby, so I came back out. I looked right at Nast from a foot away. I think he kinda liked my looks, but I’m holding out for Tremanty.”
“It’s Nast for sure?”
“One hundred percent,” Rae said. “I’ll tell you what: Jimenez was right. The guy is a hulk. He lifts serious weight, he’s got a neck like a pyramid, way bigger than Bob’s. He’s got prison ink on his arms and a nasty keloid down one cheek.”
“So we’re careful with him. And we’ve got him—we know where he lives. Let’s get back there in case somebody else shows up,” Lucas said.
On the way, Bob called. “We’ve got another guy at the house, couldn’t see this one, either. Driving a BMW sedan. I’ll tell you what: when I saw him slowing down to pull in, I ran out back and pushed through the hedge far enough that I could see into the garage. Still didn’t see the guy’s face, he was already going inside. But what looks like a two-car garage over there isn’t. It’s two cars deep, making it a four-car, and I saw a white panel van in there, pulled all the way up against the back wall. So . . . it’s them.”
“We know the guy we’re following is definitely Nast,” Rae said. “Maybe they’re all in there.”
“I doubt it,” Lucas said. “Four guys, probably bringing women home from time to time . . . That’d be too much like a college dorm. I could buy two of them living there, but not all four.”
“What do you want to do?” Bob asked.
“We need to trim a couple of hedges. In the middle of the night,” Lucas said. “You got a hedge trimmer in your kit?”
“Got a big, sharp knife,” Bob said.
“That’ll work.”
* * *
—
BARNETT AND JIMENEZ had left lamps near the windows in the living room, kitchen, and one upstairs bedroom with timers that turned them on and off randomly, to discourage burglars. They all went off by midnight, except the bedroom, which came back on hourly, for five minutes at a time, between one and six in the morning, as though somebody were getting up to pee.
When the lights went off at midnight, Lucas and Bob slipped out to the back door and then down the side hedge to the front of the yard and in the dim ambient light cropped a few branches out of the hedge to create holes that would allow them to better see the target house.
The house showed lights until after one o’clock, when all but one of them went off.
Lucas took the four-hour watch from one o’clock until five while the others slept. The Lincoln Navigator returned at two-fifteen, and when it pulled into the right-hand slot in the garage he could see a black BMW sedan in the left. Then the remote-controlled door rolled down, the light at the front of the house went out.
Rae, who had gone to sleep at ten o’clock, took over from Lucas at five. When Lucas woke at eleven, she said, “The Lincoln is still there, but the Beemer left at