The Night Crew

times: not Wyatt.
    Anna passed it to Jake, who listened, said, ‘‘She’s not here . . . Yeah, but she just left it in the car. Who is this? Well, probably about a half hour, I’m on my way to pick her up. Okay. Message from Pam. Do you have a number? Okay. Yeah, half an hour, you know, give or take.’’
    He rang off, looked at Anna and nodded: ‘‘Message from Pam.’’
    ‘‘That was him.’’
    ‘‘Yeah. No number.’’
    ‘‘Shoot.’’
    ‘‘Call Wyatt, tell him, see if they got a record of it.’’
    Anna nodded, but asked, ‘‘How long to the ranch, do you think?’’
    He glanced at the car clock, then said, ‘‘Half an hour, maybe.’’
    ‘‘Got to be a few minutes faster than that,’’ Anna said.
    He nodded, and Anna took the phone to call Wyatt. But as she was about to punch in the number, it rang again. ‘‘Give it to me,’’ Harper said. Anna handed it to him.
    ‘‘Hello? Hello?’’ He shook his head, clicked off, handed it back. ‘‘Check-up call,’’ he said. ‘‘He was calling to see if the phone was busy. To see if we turned right around to call somebody.’’
    ‘‘No dummy,’’ Anna said.
    ‘‘Crazy as a loon, but not stupid,’’ Harper said.
    ‘‘Drive faster,’’ Anna said. She sat with the gun upright, the butt of the little gun resting on the seat between her thighs, looking out the window.
    ‘‘Most likely a wild-goose chase,’’ Harper said.
    ‘‘Most likely,’’ she said.
    She waited another minute, then tapped Wyatt’s phone number in. ‘‘Yeah?’’
    ‘‘We just got a call from the guy, within the last minute or so, if you’re doing a trace.’’
    ‘‘Nothing’s working, but I’ll check,’’ he said. ‘‘The woman from Oregon called: you were set up. He was somewhere down here when you called for him.’’
    ‘‘All right. We’re building a picture, and he fits,’’ Anna said.
    ‘‘Better’n that. I just talked . . . Jesus watch out . . .’’ Wyatt-broke away, speaking to somebody else. ‘‘Just missed a goddamn truck by about an inch,’’ he said, talking to Anna again. ‘‘Listen, a woman named Daly called about three minutes after the Oregon woman, wanted to know what was going on. She said you screwed them on that animal rights protest, and you might be out to frame Judge for some reason.’’
    ‘‘Bullshit.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, I know. Anyway, I asked her when she’d last seen him, and she said she saw him this morning. And I asked if he showed any signs of injury from a fight.’’
    ‘‘His cheek,’’ Anna said, remembering the fight in the parking lot.
    ‘‘Exactly,’’ Wyatt said. ‘‘She said there was something wrong with his cheek and she looked at it and he got mad— she said there was a bruise covered with makeup. He told her he’d been bitten by a cat that he supposedly was trying to pick up.’’
    ‘‘Goddamn, he’s the guy,’’ Anna said.
    ‘‘He looks good: and we’re getting some people together up in Ventura, head out to that ranch. We’ll be ready in a couple of hours.’’
    ‘‘Right,’’ Anna said. She pulled her face back from the phone, and started rubbing her hand across the mouthpiece. ‘‘We’re on the way there, now. If you don’t get something from Pasadena . . .’’
    ‘‘Anna, you’re breaking up.’’
    ‘‘Can’t hear you,’’ Anna said, blocking most of what she said with her fingers. ‘‘Can’t . . .’’
    She punched the ‘‘end’’ button: she would not be told at this point to wait for a few hours.
    ‘‘What?’’ Harper asked.
    ‘‘He’s the guy,’’ Anna said.
    ‘‘But he might not be at the ranch.’’
    ‘‘Oh, he’s there,’’ Anna said. ‘‘He’s there, all right. I can smell him.’’
    She bared her teeth, and Harper stared at her for a second, then jerked his eyes back to the dark road. Anna felt like she did on those nights when she and the crew were really operating, when everything was turning in their favor: like the night of the raid, and Jacob’s leap. She was on, and she could feel the attraction of the ranch.
    The ranch was pulling her in.

twenty-nine

    The night was so deep that it seemed like a piece of black velvet had been folded over the car; the only relief came from the dark-walled tunnel carved out by the BMW’s high beams.
    Anna punched Louis’ number into the phone, at the same time saying, ‘‘I’d like to talk to Daly. I wonder if she knows where Judge