Cole nodded.

“He has women spread from Glendale to Sherman Oaks. A collector stops by every day to pick up their cash.”

Pike glanced at Rina.

“You know the man who picks up the money?”

“I will know him to see him unless the man change. He will be there between four and six. This is always the way. The girls, they have their money from the night before, but their money from the day is better.”

Pike said, “Will he know how to find Darko?”

She shook her head, making the expression she made when she thought Pike was a moron.

“No, no, no. He is an outcast.”

Pike and Cole traded a look, not understanding.

“Why is he an outcast? He’s being punished?”

Rina had a brief conversation with Yanni. When they stopped speaking Serbian, she tried to explain.

“Outcast is like someone learning.”

Cole said, “Starting at the bottom?”

“Yes! The men who want to be accepted, but must prove themselves. The pakhan is the boss-that is Michael. Below him, his close friends are what we call the authorities. These are the men who make sure everyone do what Michael say.”

Pike said, “Enforcers.”

“Yes. They make the men obey. The men, they are the ones who do the work and earn the money. The outcasts help the men.”

“Okay, so the guy who collects the money, he’s an errand boy. He brings the money to Michael?”

“He brings it to his boss. Michael does not touch the money.”

Cole said, “Then how do we find Michael?”

She thought for a moment, then glanced at Yanni. Yanni mumbled some more, and Rina shrugged.

“Depends on who the boss is. If boss is authority man, then maybe he know. If boss is only one of the men, then no. We won’t know until we see. Is like a sergeant, and Michael is a colonel. The sergeant does not talk to the colonel. He talks to the captain.”

Pike looked at Cole.

“Maybe there’s a way to turn this around. Maybe we can make Darko find us.”

“Steal the money?”

“Follow these people from business to business, and hit him. Hit him so hard he has no other choice.”

Cole thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Sounds like a plan. You ready for something to eat?”

Cole stepped past him into the kitchen. Pike looked at Rina and Yanni. They whispered to each other in Serbian, and then Rina glanced over.

“We will go to motel. Here smells like cats. It is making me ill.”

Pike said, “Eat. I have a place you can stay. We’ll go after dinner.”

He took his new phone and stepped out onto Cole’s deck.

THE NIGHT AIR WAS CLEAR, and chill, and the canyon below Cole’s home was quiet of man-made sounds. A wooden deck jutted from the back of Cole’s house, hanging out over the night-filled canyon like a diving board to nowhere. Pike went to the rail. The air felt good, and its clarity seemed to magnify the lights that fell away to the city. Out here on the deck, at the edge of the glow from within Cole’s home, Pike enjoyed the solitude.

He turned to face Cole’s home, and leaned into the rail, the wide glass face of the house an invisible wall. Rina and Yanni were still huddled together on the couch, and occasionally glancing outside. Cole was in the kitchen, busy with cooking.

Pike fished out the new phone, and called George Smith. He did not want to call, but he had to warn George about Walsh.

George answered on the first ring, his voice as American as a Modesto car salesman.

“This is George. Who’s calling, please?”

“Williams was dead. Williams, and two of his crew. Jamal Johnson and Samuel Renfro.”

George laughed.

“Well, there you go. Justice is swift.”

“Wasn’t me. Someone killed them the same night they murdered Frank.”

“Ah, are you asking if I knew? I did not.”

“Not asking. I thought you should know in case your friends in Odessa ask.”

“Then muchas gracias.”

“Something else you should know. The ATF was tracking my vehicle when I came by this morning. They might come around, knocking on doors.”

George was silent for several seconds, and when he spoke, the Modesto tone was edged with something dark.

“You brought them to my store?”

“I don’t know. They were tracking my vehicle. They know where I parked, and how long I parked there. I don’t know if they had eyeballs on me or not.”

Another moment’s silence.

“Where did you park?”

“A block north.”

Another moment.

“There are many shops within a block of my place.”

Pike didn’t bother to say anything. George was shaking the facts to see if he could live with them, just as a terrier shakes a rat.

Inside, Rina stood. She peered outside, trying to find Pike at the edge of the light, then said something to Yanni. Yanni gestured as if he were getting impatient with her, and wanted to leave.

George said, “Why might they knock on doors, Joseph?”

“Darko. They know I have inside information on the Serbians. They want my source. They’ll probably retrace my route today, trying to locate everyone I spoke with.”

George suddenly laughed, giving it his best Modesto twang.

“Why, hell, George Smith ain’t some Bosnian refugee. If they come around, I’ll tell’m you wanted a lamp. I’ll bet I can sell them a nice little sconce. Might even give them a discount.”

George laughed again, and now Rina came around the couch and was heading for the deck. Pike would have to go, but he needed a favor from George.

“One more thing.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m going to hit Darko’s business, and I want him to know it’s me. Maybe some people at Odessa can drop my name in the Eastern Bloc neighborhoods.”

“This would put a target on your chest.”

“Yes.”

George made a little sigh.

“Well, we do what we do.”

George hung up as Rina opened the door. She stepped out onto the deck as Pike put away his phone.

She said, “It’s dark out here. Why do you stand in the dark?”

Pike hesitated, wondering whether he should tell her what he had found in Willowbrook, and finally decided he should. He had been feeling the bib in his pocket as if it were a living thing, alive and pulsing, and wanting to come out.

“Darko’s crew is dead.”

She visibly stiffened, then joined him at the rail.

“You found them?”

“Yes. Men named Jamal Johnson and Moon Williams. Have you heard of them?”

She shook her head.

“Samuel Renfro?”

She shook her head again.

“They were killed the same night they took your son and murdered my friends.”

Her mouth shrunk to a tight knot, and her eyes turned watchful.

“Were Michael or my boy with them?”

“No. But I found this.”

Pike took the bib from his pocket, and once more marveled at its softness. As soon as he opened it, he smelled the apricots, even in the rich night air.

Rina took it, and seemed to marvel at it just as Pike had marveled at it.

“But nothing to say where’s the baby?”

“No. I’m sorry, but no.”

Her face folded into a frown, and she turned to face the canyon. Pike decided to feel her out about Jakovich.

“I found another line I can follow-a man named Milos Jakovich. Do you know who he is?”

She stared into the dark for a moment, then shrugged.

“The old one. Michael, he work for him.”

“Do they have business together?”

“I do not know. The blood is not good.”

“They don’t like each other?”

“I don’t think so. Michael never tell me these things, but I hear. Like with his business. I am just whore.”

She turned back toward the canyon, and Pike felt uncomfortable.

“Maybe Jakovich or someone who works for Jakovich knows how to find Michael.”

“I don’t know those people.”

“Is there someone you could ask?”

She worried the inside of her cheek, then shrugged again.

“It is like a different family. I would be scared, I think.”