“Wish I could see you. Damned trees.”

  Lee slowed, not wanting to risk a head-on with Diane if she was crossing his lane when he came upon her, turning.

  A few more seconds went by. “Here we go,” she shouted.

  Lee heard the squeal of tires, but it was coming from outside as well as over the phone connection. His SUV dropped down from a rise. Diane was a hundred yards ahead, raising dust from the side road as her pickup tires skidded, grabbing for traction on the dirt and gravel.

  Glover was sliding across the road, trying to stay with the unexpected maneuver, and looked up, seeing Lee nearly upon him.

  Lee kept his cool, eased off on the gas, and steered to his left, going into the lane Glover was now leaving nearly sideways. As Lee shot past him, Glover was locked onto the steering wheel, trying to keep from rolling.

  Lee hit the brakes and executed a perfect moonshiner’s turn, sliding to a stop in the left-hand lane, facing the opposite direction. He watched Glover’s pickup leave the shoulder, bounce a few times, then slide to a dust cloud-filled stop two hundred yards past the spot where Diane had turned off.

  Flooring it, Lee raced over and pulled in front of Glover’s truck, cutting him off. “Let’s show him there’s no way we could be cops,” he said, dropping the cell phone headset on the seat.

  The idiot hadn’t been belted in, and was still disoriented when Lee yanked open the driver’s side door.

  “Picked the wrong woman to jack around with, honky,” Lee yelled, deciding to play the role of a 70s pissed-off Navajo lunatic.

  “Honky?” Glover mumbled, trying to fend off Lee with his hands.

  Lee realized he’d been speaking right out of the stoner age and Glover had probably been in diapers at the time. He grabbed the nut by the front of his jacket and yanked him out of the cab. A cell phone fell to the ground, and Lee picked it up, confirming the provider from the logo before pulling out the battery and tossing it into the bed of Glover’s truck. He flipped the phone itself a dozen feet away into some brush beside a pine tree.

  Diane had stopped her own vehicle, backed up, and was now running over to join them. “Kick his ass, Lee. Kick his ass,” she demanded, her clenched fists out. The less like cops they behaved the better, and now the competition was on as to who could be more freaked out and illegal, him or her.

  Lee noticed a pickup stacked high with firewood coming down the highway. It slowed to a crawl as it got close. “What are you looking at?” Lee yelled, swinging around Glover so the driver of the old truck could see him.

  The driver, a Hispanic man in his early sixties, gaped, his mouth dropped, then he sped off, raising smoke from his overworked engine.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” Glover managed, dangling there, helpless but defiant and angry now that he realized he’d escaped injury.

  “Still a tough guy, huh?” Diane yelled, a wild-eyed look in her eyes as she pointed her shiny, polished, black-and-gray–striped finger in Glover’s face. “Well, you’re going to pay for this.” She picked up a boulder and smashed Glover’s windshield. “And this, too.” She kicked up with her boot and broke the headlight on the driver’s side. “Following too close can lead to serious accidents, butthead.”

  Lee laughed, trying to sound as much like Jack Nicholson in The Shining as possible. Diane was doing a better job, however, and had managed to retain a very credible psycho expression without going over the top.

  Suddenly she smiled and crossed her arms, pushing up her cleavage in a cheap but sexy gesture. “Sweetie. We’re going to have to either beat the crap out of this gringo or set fire to him and leave it up to God.” She worked a cigarette lighter out of her impossibly tight jeans pocket and held it up, thumbing a three-inch flame.

  “I haven’t had lunch yet, and I have to be back at work in,” she looked at her flashy silver watch, “less than a half hour now. Decide for me.”

  “Only you can prevent fat-ass fires, Smokey the Newt.” He turned and grinned at Diane. “Whaddya say we push his little red wagon into an arroyo and make him walk home,” Lee suggested, slamming Glover into the side of the truck, pinning him there against the metal, a foot off the ground, as he pretended to consider what to do next.

  “Not if I have to work up a sweat,” Diane said, putting away the lighter. Then she reached inside Glover’s truck and pulled out the ignition keys. She waved the keys in front of the dangling man’s face, and when he reached up for them, kneed him in the groin.

  He crumpled in midair, managing somehow not to scream. Then Lee dropped him to the ground. Glover went into a fetal position, sounding like he was going to puke.

  “Gonna bother us again, dipshit?” Lee asked very politely.

  Glover made some heaving noises, then lost his breakfast and maybe his lunch, as well.

  “I’ll take that as a no.” Diane dropped the keys into the middle of the mess, then winked at Lee. “Let’s go have lunch. All this exercise has made me hungry.”

  As Lee drove away north, following Diane in her pickup, he took a last look in the rearview mirror. Glover was holding his key ring by a stick, rubbing it across the ground.

  Lee and Diane were parked just off the road beneath some pine trees, sitting on the tailgate of her pickup, eating sandwiches.

  “There’s no way he’ll think we could be cops now, Lee,” Diane said. “Think he’ll go home now and set fire to our stuff?”

  “He’ll probably want to. But Glover also knows the place is a rental, not really ours. If he decides to burn the place down, he’ll want us inside at the time. My guess is that he’ll hold back, maybe get some reinforcements, then try to catch us cold later on. It could be a week or two, or even later. But we’ve got him pissed off, that’s clear. He’ll want to inflict as much damage as possible.”

  “Like kill us?”

  “Yeah, especially if that guy with the firewood lives around here and spreads the story of us manhandling him. Glover has a rep to maintain. If people start standing up to him, he loses power and influence. He can’t let that happen, and it’s clear that around here he’s been having it all his way.”

  Diane finished the rest of her sandwich, then took another sip of cola before speaking. “Would he try and sic the local deputies on us? Or would he be concerned that it would tell us who’s on his payroll?”

  Lee shook his head. “If anyone comes after us, it’ll be on the sly, Diane. At least that’ll be my guess. Let’s make it clear we’re keeping an eye on him when he’s around us, but otherwise hold off with any further contact whenever possible.”

  “I’ll listen to the customers, ask as many questions as I dare, and try and sort out his friends from his enemies. I want to pick up any gossip, learn who he’s been bothering, stuff like that. But if he comes after me again, I’m not going to wait to see if he pushes.” Diane reached down and patted her handgun, a small .380 she’d decided to carry in concealed mode for this assignment.

  “I agree. Now let’s cover what we found out on our own before you have to leave for the store.”

  Before they parted, Lee brought out the bullet-resistant vests they’d hidden in the SUV and they put them on. Resembling T-shirts, the vests offered some protection from gunfire—less from knife attacks—without the bulk and heat of standard-issue equipment. Diane had to button up another button on her blouse and lose some sex appeal, but she actually welcomed the idea, still being uncomfortable in the role of a “semi-slut,” as she expressed it.

  Lee returned home. There were no vehicles in Glover’s driveway, and it didn’t appear that anyone had even come up the graveled road since he’d left to meet Diane for lunch. Glover had probably taken his damaged truck to be repaired, and Lee didn’t know if there were any local businesses that could immediately replace a windshield. He might have to go into Albuquerque or Moriarity, farther east.

  Lee went inside, checked out the surveillance cameras, and confirmed that no one appeared to have entered the place while he was gone. There was no phone hooked up, but there was a phone book, so Lee checked and confirmed that the closest listed auto glass on-site repair place was in southeast Albuquerque along the interstate.

  Looking out the window, Lee saw a vehicle coming up the road. It was a Jeep, and when it got closer he saw Glover behind the wheel. He’d obviously arranged for other transportation, and from a source much closer than Albuquerque. Judging from the amount of time that had elapsed, it was probably someone within a half hour’s travel time. Lee wondered if the Jeep was a rental or a loaner from a local merchant, or perhaps a friend of Glover’s.

  Then again, knowing Glover, he considered the likely possibility that it belonged to someone who’d been forced to give up the vehicle. Lee decided to run the plate once he got a look at it.

  The Jeep accelerated slightly, swerved to the side of the road, and struck a child’s yellow-and-orange plastic tricycle with a crunch. Pieces flew everywhere. Lee thought about what psychologists called transference. Good thing there hadn’t been somebody’s cat crossing the road. Glover was one sick dude.

  Glover was all smiles when he arrived, but he stopped in the street before pulling in. His face lost expression as he checked out his own place, maybe expecting something to be amiss. He also took a long look at Lee standing in the window, watching him. Lee nodded, without expression, to let the man know he was being watched, as well. Glover gunned the engine and pulled into his driveway.

  Lee thought once again of the possibility of bugging Glover’s cell phone, then considered placing a bug in his vehicle, or on Glover himself. But it was a risky proposition. There was no quicker way to warn Glover that he was being investigated than to have him discover a bug. But maybe there was another way … he’d discuss it with Diane when she came home that evening.

  Diane arrived home at 6:00, bringing a barbecued chicken and some groceries with her. They ate while she brought him up to date. “I called SAC Logan once I left the store, and they still don’t have any leads on the missing boy. Timothy’s high-end bike is missing; it’s what he used to ride between the two residences, apparently. The official search parties have given up, nobody got any hits with the tracking dogs, and checks with the known sex offenders in the area have still come up blank. The parents have finally stopped fighting, at least long enough to get together on the search. They’re going to church groups, asking for volunteers to walk the three miles between their residences, scour the woods and any place the kid might have gone.”

  “Any chance that there’ll be a ransom demand?”

  “Nothing yet, but keep in mind it may not be a routine kidnapping. The boy’s bike alone is worth a thousand or more.”

  “People have been killed for a lot less than that. Are they sure the kid didn’t just run away? A war between parents can destroy children in the process,” he said.

  “Logan talked to those who’d interviewed the family, teachers, neighbors. The kid wasn’t really happy about the situation, but he seemed to be coping, according to them. Of course, each parent was trying to keep him happy with bribes, entertainment … like that.”

  “Any perverts in this area?”

  “None that are on the list. One businessman in Tijeras has a record with underage girls, but he’s already been checked out. Has a solid alibi, apparently.”

  Lee nodded. “Okay, then Glover stays in our sights. Now that we’ve gotten him really ticked off, it’s just going to be a matter of time before he strikes back. After all, he may be the one who carved up Zeke Perry. Too bad we can’t get more details other than the sheriff’s department report, which didn’t really have much we can use. Perry’s widow now lives out of state, apparently. But we’ll have to be ready and catch him in the act if we intend on putting him away.”

  “If we could get a warrant, there’s stolen merchandise in his house right now, right?” Diane asked.

  “The only item I could confirm was stolen was the computer. But Glover might be able to intimidate the rightful owner into saying he sold it to him for cash. It might even be some kind of payoff—an insurance scam. I need to get a longer look inside Glover’s home.”

  “But without a search warrant, the evidence would be thrown out, Lee. All we’d get out of it is intelligence gathering. Is that what you’re after?”

  He nodded. “If we can learn anything that’ll help us direct our efforts and bring him down for something big, it’ll be worth it.”

  “Good point. Winning is the only thing that matters when it comes to putting a sleazeball like him away. Let’s just make sure there are no innocents that get caught up in this, so we can live with ourselves later on.”

  “Agreed. There are too many innocents involved already, like your boss, who lives thirty miles away but is still afraid of him and his reach. And we’ll want to target his contacts, too, especially whoever he’d got working in law enforcement against us, the same individual who found out about my ‘rap’ sheet.”

  “Okay. So if Glover leaves tonight, I’ll follow him while you go over his house inch by inch.”

  “Actually, Diane, you should get the black bag job, not me. You know where the surveillance camera is, and you can pick locks. Once he’s gone, all you have to do is make sure you leave no trace you were there. Remember the front entrance and the possibility of an alarm, though.”

  “Sounds doable. And it would make better use of our abilities. You can follow him in the SUV without the need for headlights—and you can overhear a conversation from a distance without special equipment.”

  “Wrong. My equipment is special,” he said with a wink.

  “Vampires!” she mouthed inaudibly, still careful about their most critical secret even though there was no reason to believe they’d been bugged. “Or is it just that you’re a man? Every guy believes his equipment is special, you know.”

  “I’m not every guy,” Lee asserted, then glanced for the tenth time within the hour toward the window across the living room. He’d positioned his chair so he could see the front of Glover’s house and the section of driveway where the Jeep was parked.

  “Our neighbor might be up to something,” Lee said without inflection. “Don’t make it obvious, but he’s outside, poking around that Jeep.”

  “Like he’s going somewhere?” Diane took a sip of coffee, watching out of the corner of her eyes. Like Lee, she’d learned the old cop and CIA tactic of watching but not turning your head to make surveillance more natural and less attention getting, especially from the target.

  “Or trying to find a place to stash something he wants to keep out of sight. He’s rumored to deal in drugs and other contraband, and won’t want it sitting out in plain sight,” Lee said.

  Glover went back inside, and Lee checked his watch. It would be dark soon; the sun had already set.

  The man came out ten minutes later wearing a leather jacket and carrying a toolbox. He had a beer bottle in his other hand, but took a big swig, finishing it off, then threw it into his trash can.

  Lee thought he heard a burp, then Glover placed the toolbox onto the floorboard on the front passenger side. A minute later, the man went to the door and locked it, leaving the porch light on.

  “Gotta go in a minute,” Lee said, looking around the room and finding his own jacket on the small sofa. Inside the pocket, he knew, was the 9 mm Beretta he always carried off-duty. The small backup .45 was in the refrigerator, and the commando dagger was still on his ankle in the special sheath.

  “Wanna take my truck?” Diane offered, bringing out the keys. “Less flashy.”

  “Good idea.” He held up his hand and caught the key ring, then brought out his own and tossed them to her.

  “Try to give me ten minutes leeway when he heads home, Lee. I’m going to need to move slow to avoid any obvious traps and such he may have set up.”

  “Just put the phone on vibrate and keep it close. Glover may have some skills with covert operations that we don’t know about, so be aware of the obvious and the subtle when you go through his stuff.”

  He knew Diane had the skills, but he still wanted her to be very careful. Glover would be out to get them now, for sure, if only because he’d lost face. If he also happened to discover they were cops out to nail him, Lee had no doubt Glover would kill them the instant he got the chance.

  “Lee, we never did decide about whether to place a passive bug in his home. With that wand of his, if he finds one …”

  “Yeah. I know. We should hold off for now, but when you look around his place, see if you can find a location that would work. Just thinking ahead. If he brings women home, prostitutes or whatever, there may be some pillow talk we’d like to hear, especially if we’re talking about possible druggies. It’s a long shot, but …”

  “Okay. He’s getting ready to go. I’ll wait ten minutes, and if I don’t hear from you, I’ll make a move.”

  Just outside, they heard Glover start the Jeep, rev the engine a few times, then back out of the driveway. He drove off in a hurry, gravel and dust raised in a rooster tail. The man had left his porch light on—a complication for Diane breaking in.

  Lee moved quickly, getting his jacket and backup .45, then verifying he had his cell phone. “I’ll try to beat him back. And if I can’t and he returns first, I’ll wait a while so it won’t be obvious I was following.”

  “Take the grocery bag that’s still on the table. You can bring it in with you, like you made a late trip to Howard’s or wherever,” Diane suggested.

  “Good idea,” Lee said, and gave her a quick kiss. “Be careful.”

  “You, too.” She gave him a scrunchy-nosed smile he’d learned was special, only for him, then Diane watched as he went outside and climbed into the old pickup. He set the grocery bag on the floorboard so it couldn’t be seen unless a person came right up to the window.

  It was nearly dark, and Lee backed out quickly, wanting the chance to look ahead and see how far down Quail Run Glover had gone. If the man decided to double back, Lee would have to put on his headlights quickly, take off on his fake errand, then wait a while before returning with the groceries.