Pike turned around on the next block, then pulled to the curb. Three girls on bikes pedaled past, swung around hard in the middle of the street, and rode past again. Eyeing the white man. They probably thought he was a cop.

Pike watched the mobile homes for a few minutes, but saw no signs of activity. An ancient Buick Riviera was illegally parked alongside the fence, so wide it covered the sidewalk. Pike didn’t necessarily expect to find anyone home, but he wanted to confirm that Moon still lived here. If so, he would wait until Moon returned, then use him to reach Darko.

Pike took out his phone and called Jamal again. He got the computer once more. Jamal’s mailbox was still full.

The girls rode past again, slower, and this time Pike rolled down the window. The first girl wore a blue short-sleeved shirt, the second a baggy white T-shirt, and the third was wearing a red sweatshirt. Red, white, and blue. Pike wondered if they had planned it that way.

“Need some help, ladies. You live on this street, or you just passing through?”

The girl in blue turned in a slow, curious circle. The girl in white slowed, but the red kept going. She didn’t stop until she reached the corner.

The blue girl said, “Are you a policeman?”

“No. I’m a salesman.”

The girl laughed.

“You’re a plainclothes policeman. My Uncle Davis is a plainclothes officer, so I know. Also, you’re white. We don’t get many white people except for the police.”

Pike said, “Do you know Ms. Mildred Gertie Williams, up there in the trailers?”

The girl said, “You here for Moon?”

Just like that.

Pike said, “Yes.”

“I live right over there, that yellow house? Uncle Davis warned us about that Moon Williams. He said don’t never go over there and stay away from those boys. He said if that Moon ever makes a problem, we should call him right away.”

Pike tipped his head toward the other girls.

“Those your sisters?”

“No, sir. That’s Lureen and Jonelle. They’re my friends.”

“Which one of those trailers does Ms. Williams live in?”

“The one up front. That’s the big one.”

“Does Moon live with her?”

“He’s in the back trailer, the one with the dogs.”

Pike hadn’t seen dogs when he passed the yard.

“He has dogs?”

“Those pit bull dogs. Those dogs are mean. Uncle Davis told my mama if she ever saw those dogs running loose, she had to call him right away.”

“You know who lives in the other trailers?”

She screwed up her face, then shook her head.

“Was a lady in one and Jonelle’s cousin lived there for a while, but they moved out after Moon came home.”

Moon had brought a blight to the neighborhood.

“What’s your name, blue girl?”

“I’m not supposed to tell my name to strange adults.”

Uncle Davis again.

“You probably shouldn’t be talking to strangers, either.”

“I’m not stupid. You get out of that car, I’ll ride away as fast as I can. Lureen and Jonelle over there, they’ll call my Uncle Davis, then you’ll see.”

“One more thing. Have you seen Ms. Williams or Moon today?”

She circled a couple of times, thinking, then shook her head.

“No, I sure haven’t. I haven’t been down that way today. I was at school, and then I was at Jonelle’s, and Lureen just came over so we’re going to her house.”

Pike said, “Okay, then. You have a nice time at Lureen’s.”

“You watch out for those dogs.”

Pike decided he didn’t have much time as the three girls rode away. They would probably tell Lureen’s mother, and Lureen’s mother would probably call the blue girl’s mother, who would call Uncle Davis. Uncle Davis would probably send a patrol car by to take a look.

Pike waited until the girls disappeared, then idled forward and parked alongside the Riviera. The edge of Mildred’s yard butted against city property where the off-ramp looped down from the freeway, and the rear of the property backed against what appeared to be a large storage facility. Pike saw no dogs, though the last trailer was surrounded by its own taller fence. Pike slipped his.45 Kimber under his belt at the small of his back, clipped the Python to his belt under his sweatshirt, then hopped the first fence into Mildred Williams’s yard.

Pike went to the big double-wide, listened at the door, then went to the nearest window. The freeway was loud, which made listening difficult. He stretched on his toes to peek inside, and saw a basic living room with an old-fashioned console television. The room was neat, clean, and the television was off. Pike angled his head, trying to see through an interior door when a gray-and-white cat jumped against the window. The cat cried at him through the glass as if it was lonely and wanted to escape.

Pike returned to the door. He tapped three times, then decided Ms. Williams had probably gone out.

Pike drew the Python as he moved to the second trailer, and let it dangle down along his leg. The second and third trailers were both empty, the tenants long since gone to escape Moon and his crew.

The fourth trailer sat by itself against a wall of ragged oleanders, caged by a six-foot chain-link fence. A gate in the center of the fence was latched but not locked. There wasn’t much of a yard. Just a few feet of dirt on either side of the Airstream and a few feet behind. Two large metal bowls were under the trailer, one filled with water. A chain stretched from the tow hitch to disappear behind the trailer. It was the kind of chain used for a strong, aggressive dog, but Pike could not see what was attached to the other end.

Pike stood at the fence, listening. The trailer was still. Windows closed. No voices or music.

Pike made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound.

A dog inside the trailer barked. Not behind; inside.

Pike lowered himself into a push-up position, trying to see what was behind the trailer by looking under it, but accumulated junk and dead weeds blocked his view. He made the tsking sound again, and the dog inside barked. One dog inside.

The blue girl said Moon had dogs-more than one.

Pike let himself through the gate, ready to step back if an animal charged, but nothing moved. The dog inside was barking so loudly, Pike doubted Moon or anyone else was home. He latched the gate, then took a roundabout route to see behind the trailer, and that’s when he saw the dog. A ragged male pit bull lay on its side, two legs stiff in the air. The dog’s head was matted with dried blood and swarming with black bottle flies, but the dog wasn’t the only dead thing behind the trailer. An African-American man was sprawled a few feet beyond the dog, his face covered with so many ants they looked like a second skin. The smell followed an instant later, strong enough to make Pike’s eyes water.

Pike checked the body, but found no identification. He had been shot twice in the back. A black nine-millimeter Ruger pistol lay in the dirt by his hand.

Pike left the man and the gun, and went to the window. The barking inside grew louder as he approached, then abruptly stopped.

The old Airstream was much smaller than the double-wide. It contained only three small rooms-a kitchenette, a living room, and a single bedroom with a bath. Pike looked into the kitchen first, saw nothing, then looked into the living room.

The inside pit bull had stopped barking because it was eating. The dog tore a strip of flesh from a man’s neck, gulped the meat down, then lapped at the wound. The dog’s face and chest were matted with blood, and its feet were red boots. A second male body was half on a couch and half on the floor. The flesh on the second man’s left forearm had been partially eaten, but his right forearm was intact. The numbers tattooed there were easy to read.

187

187

187

187

187

One for each of the people he put in the ground.