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Lila watched him go. She couldn’t chase after him. Even if she had the time, she didn’t have the right words.
Instead, she pulled off a set of keys from the pegs near the garage door and wandered among the vehicles inside. She needed stealth and anonymity. She needed the Cruz sedan. After removing the bugs and disabling the GPS, she slipped on her sunglasses and drove from the garage.
When she stopped at the south gate, her eyes traveled toward Aunt Georgina’s bridal block. A familiar Barracuda had stopped near a fire hydrant. Its scarred rider swiped at his palm as though he wasn’t paying attention.
Lila rolled down her window and waited for Sergeant Hill to approach. “Sergeant, have you seen—”
“The silver Barracuda?”
“Yes.”
Hill wiped the sweat from under his sentry cap. “We’ve been watching him for two hours. We just need to confirm his target so we can build a stalking case. Is he here for you?
“Yes.”
“You leading him somewhere?”
“Nope.”
“Do you want to?” He grinned. “It would help our case if he followed you a bit.”
“Too busy today, sergeant. I’d be much obliged if your men intercepted him instead. Stash him in a holding cell for loitering until you hear from me.” Though her militia could only hold Mr. Nottingham for a few hours before writing him a ticket and kicking him loose, it would be plenty of time to conduct an illegal search of his apartment, especially if she had help.
Hill took off his hat and scratched his ear. Seconds later, three motorcycles came at Mr. Nottingham from several different directions, pinning the Barracuda in before Mr. Nottingham could start the engine and get away. Two blackcoats emerged from the florists and tugged him off his bike, cuffing him without incident.
Hill pulled down the hem of his officer’s jacket, standing up straight and tall as the blackcoats walked Mr. Nottingham toward the security office. “That’s how we do things at the south gate.”
“Damn straight. Great job as always, Sergeant Hill. Take your people to Juniper at close of shift. My treat. I’ll tell the hostess to expect you.”
Hill licked his lips. “Juniper? Are you kidding me?”
“I never kid about steak.” Lila pulled away and sent a quick message to the manager of Juniper’s Steakhouse, warning her to plan ahead for a dozen hungry and boisterous militia.
Ten minutes later, Lila parallel-parked in front of a lowborn convenience store and walked north for one block. Tristan opened his truck door with a squeak as she turned the corner, smiling warmly as he jogged to meet them. Dixon stayed inside, his gaze not meeting hers. Instead, he watched the people walking on the street, their thin, sweaty t-shirts waving in the warm breeze, their boots crumpling scraps of paper and cigarette butts underfoot.
“Fry’s on the roof, Sam’s in the back, and Dice is watching the front in case this guy decides to bolt,” Tristan said, jutting his chin down the block.
Lila had no desire to wind a scarf around half her face in the heat, merely to hide from Tristan’s people. “Pull them off. Our target is in a holding cell. My people picked him up for loitering just as I pulled out of the compound.”
“A quick search, then?”
“Very. I have bigger fish, Tristan.”
“So he’s a little fish?”
“The smallest. A minnow. He’s just some guy who followed me after the council meeting last night. I want to know why.” When Dixon slipped from the truck, the group headed toward Mr. Nottingham’s apartment building.
“What do you know?”
“Not much. I only had time to run his plates. I was busy with other things last night.”
“Other things?”
“I’m digging into Natalie Holguín’s disappearance. I suspect it might be connected to Oskar.”
“So you were researching?”
“Yes. I didn’t find out much, though. I found a few of her rental properties, but I doubt she’ll use them due to the paper trail. I just need to cross them off my list.”
