I leaned over to Cindy and whispered, “You know, when we were talking foxholes the other day, I was only joking.”
“I know you were,” Cindy said, looping her arm around mine. “But I wasn’t.”
Claire, Jill, and I stood with our jaws open and watched the two of them disappear around the corner. Actually, they looked kind of cute together, and it was only a date to hear some music.
“Okay,” Jill said, “tell me I wasn’t dreaming.”
“You weren’t dreaming, girl,” Claire replied. “I just hope that Cindy realizes what she’s getting herself into.”
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I hope he does.”
Getting into my car, I entertained myself with the notion of Cindy and Aaron Winslow. It almost pushed out of my head the reason we had gotten together in the first place.
I turned my Explorer onto Brannan and waved goodbye to Claire, who was heading over to 280. As I made the turn, I caught a glimpse of a white Toyota pulling out down the block behind me.
My mind was wrapped up with what I had just done, getting the girls involved in this horrible case. I had just countermanded a direct order from the mayor and my commanding officer. This time, there was no one backing me up. No Roth, or Mercer.
A Mazda with two teenage girls in it pulled up behind me. We had stopped at a light on Seventh. The driver was talking a mile a minute on her cell phone, while her companion obliviously sung along to the stereo.
As we started up, I kept my eye on them for a block, until they veered onto Ninth. A blue minivan took the Mazda’s place.
I got onto Potrero under the underpass to 101, heading south. The blue van turned.
To my surprise, I saw that same white Toyota lurking thirty yards behind.
I continued on. A silver BMW sped up in the left lane and pulled up behind me. Behind it, a city bus. It looked as if the mystery car was gone.
Who could blame you for getting a little jumpy, with what’s going on? I said to myself. My picture had been in the paper and on the TV news.
I made my usual right on Connecticut and started the climb up the Potrero hill. I was hoping Mrs. Taylor next door had come by to walk Martha. And I was thinking of stopping in the market on Twentieth for some Edy’s vanilla twirl.
Two blocks up, I glanced a last time in my rearview mirror. The white Toyota crept into view.
Either the sonofabitch lived on the same block I did, or the bastard was following me.
It had to be Chimera.
Chapter 51
MY HEART WAS POUNDING; the hairs on the back of my neck stood erect. I squinted in the rearview mirror and ran the plate numbers over in my head: California… PCV 182. I couldn’t make out the person driving. This was insane.… But I sure wasn’t imagining it.
I pulled into an open parking spot in front of my apartment. I waited in the car until I saw the hood of the Toyota rise over the lip of Twentieth Street, then pause at the base of the last hill. My blood ran cold.
I had let the bastard trail me right to my house.
I reached in the glove compartment and took out my Glock. I checked the clip. Stay calm. You’re gonna take this asshole down. You’re going to nail Chimera right now.
I hunched in my car, scrolling through my options. I could call it in. A patrol car could be here in a matter of minutes. But I had to find out who it was. The appearance of a police car would scare him away.
My heart beat madly. I palmed my gun and opened the car door. I slipped out into the night. Now what?
On the first floor of my house, there was a back door that led to an alley underneath my terrace. From there, I could wrap around the block near the park at the top of the hill. If the bastard stayed outside, I could double back and maybe surprise him.
I hesitated in the doorway, just long enough to see the Toyota creeping slowly up the street. My hands fumbled in my bag for the key. I jammed it in the lock.
I was inside. Out a small window, I watched the Toyota. I strained to catch a glimpse of the driver, but his interior lights were off.
I undid the bolt to the back door and crept out into the alley behind my building.