"Something like that."

While he was looking at Rachel I clasped my hands together and swung a sledgehammer into the back of his neck. He went forward and into his partner. But the blow was nothing more than a surprise attack. He didn't go down. He wheeled on me and started coming at me, balling his fists into twin sledgehammers. I saw Rachel move her arm under her blazer and flip it back to get to her gun. But her hand caught momentarily in the material and she was late getting to her weapon.

"Hold it!" she yelled.

But the Steroid boys didn't stop. I ducked under the bigger man's first punch but when I came up behind him I was right in front of little brother. He grabbed me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. For some reason at this point I noticed that there were women watching from the three back windows of the rear trailer. I had drawn an audience to my own destruction.

My arms were trapped inside of my attacker's embrace and I was feeling severe pressure building on my spine at the same time the air was crushed out of my lungs. Just then Rachel finally freed her weapon and fired two shots into the air.

I was dropped to the ground and I watched as Rachel crab-walked away from the trailer to make sure no one could get up behind her.

"FBI," she shouted. "On the ground. Both of you on the ground."

The big men complied. As soon as I got some air back into my lungs I got back up. I tried to dust some of the dirt off my clothes but all that did was spread it around. I looked at Rachel and nodded. She kept her distance from the men on the ground and signaled me over with her finger. "What happened?"

"I was interviewing one of the women and asked her to bring in another. But then these guys showed up and dragged me out here. Thanks for the warning."

"I did try to warn you. I honked."

"I know, Rachel. Take it easy. That's what I'm thanking you for. I just misread it."

"So what do we do?"

"I don't care about these guys. Cut ' em loose. But there are two women inside, Tammy and Mecca, we need to take them. One knows Shandy and the other I think can ID one of the missing men as being a customer."

Rachel computed this and slowly nodded.

"Good. Is Shandy a customer?"

"No, he's some sort of driver. We need to get over to the sports bar and ask around there."

"Then we can't just cut these two loose. They might just come meet us again over there. Besides there were four bikes out front. Where are the other two?"

"I don't know."

"Hey, come on!" Big Steroid yelled. "We're breathing sand over here."

Rachel approached the two men on the ground.

"Okay, get up."

She waited until they were up and staring at her with malevolent eyes. She dropped her gun down to her side and spoke calmly to them, as if this was the way she normally got to know people. "Where are you guys from?" "Why?"

"Why? Because I'm trying to get to know you. I'm deciding whether to arrest you." "For what? He started it."

"Not what I saw. I saw two big men assaulting a smaller man."

"He was trespassing."

"Last I checked, trespassing was not a valid defense of assault. If you want to see if I'm wrong then keep-"

"Pahrump."

"What?"

"Pahrump."

"And do you own these three operations?"

"No, we're just security."

"I see. Well, I'll tell you what. If you two find the other two whose bikes are out front and go back to Pahrump, then we'll let bygones be bygones here."

"That's not fair. He was in there asking-"

"I'm the FBI. I'm not interested in what's fair. Take it or leave it."

After a moment the bigger man broke from his stance and started walking toward the trailer. The smaller big man followed.

"Where are you going?" Rachel barked.

"We're leaving. Like you told us."

"Good. Make sure you put on your helmets, gentlemen."

Without looking back the bigger man raised a brawny arm and shot us a bird as he walked. The smaller big man saw this and did the same.

Rachel looked at me and said, "I hope this works."

The women in the backseat were angry but Rachel didn't care. This was the closest she had been-the closest anybody had been-to Backus since that night in Los Angeles. The night she had watched him crash backward through the glass and into the void that seemed to swallow any trace of him.

Until now. And the last thing she was going to let bother her were the protests of the two prostitutes in the backseat of Bosch's car. The only thing that bothered her was her decision to let Bosch drive. They now had two custodies and were transporting them in a private car. It was a security issue and she wasn't sure yet how they were going to handle the stop at the sports bar.

"I know what we'll do," Bosch said as he drove away from the three brothels at the end of the road.

"So do I," Rachel said. "You'll stay with them while I go in."

"No, that won't work. You'll need backup. We just proved that we shouldn't split up." "Then what?"

"I turn on the child locks on the back doors. They won't be able to open them."

"And what's to stop them from climbing over to the front seat and getting out?"

"Look, where are they going to go? They have no choice, right, ladies?"

He looked up into the rearview mirror.

"Fuck you," answered the one named Mecca. "You can't just do this. We're not the ones who committed any crimes."

"Actually, as I explained before, we can," Rachel said in a bored tone. "You have been taken into federal custody as material witnesses in a criminal investigation. You will be formally interviewed and then released."

"Well, just do it now and get it over with."

Rachel had been surprised to learn when she looked at the woman's driver's license that her name really was Mecca. Mecca Mclntyre. What a name.

"Well, Mecca, we can't. I already explained that, too."

Bosch pulled into the gravel lot in front of the sports bar. There were no other cars. He lowered all the windows a couple of inches and turned off the car.

"I'm going to put the alarm on," he said. "If you climb over and open the door it will set off the alarm. We'll then come out and chase you down. So don't bother, okay? We won't be gone long."

Rachel got out and closed the door. She checked her cell phone again and was still not getting service. She saw Bosch check his and shake his head. She decided she would commandeer the phone in the sports bar, if there was one, and call the Vegas FO to report what she had. She expected Cherie Dei to be very angry and pleased.

"By the way," Bosch said as they came to the ramp leading up to the door of the trailer, "do you carry an extra magazine for your Sig?"

"Of course."

"Where, on your belt?"

"That's right, why?"

"Nothing, I just saw back there behind the trailer that your hand sort of got caught in your jacket."

"It didn't get caught. I just-what's your point?"

"Nothing. I was just going to say that I always carried my extra in my jacket pocket. It gave it some weight, you know. So when you had to flip it back the extra weight carried it all the way back and out of the way."

"Thanks for the tip," she said evenly. "Can we concentrate on this now?"

"Sure, Rachel. You going to take the lead here?"

"If you don't mind."

"Not at all."

He followed her up the ramp. She thought she saw a smile on his face in the reflection on the glass of the trailer's door. She opened it, engaging an overhead bell that announced their arrival.

They stepped into a small and empty barroom. To their right was a pool table, its green felt faded by time and stained by drink spills. It was a small table but still did not have enough clearance in the small space. Even breaking a rack would probably require holding a cue at a forty-degree angle.