Walsh’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
“Gas station on Eighth and Leighton.”
“What?”
“My cousin works nights there. Said some guy in a gray hoodie was hanging around the pay phone, watching the road. Took off when they asked if he needed something.”
Lucas looked toward Miller.
“Second man?”
“Maybe.”
Walsh checked another camera archive.
A photograph taken from the rear alley three weeks earlier contained a faint reflection in the garage window.
One man close to the camera.
Another taller figure farther back.
Two observers.
Miller’s jaw tightened.
“We haven’t found the operation.”
Lucas looked at him.
“We found one piece.”
The night stretched.
Nobody wanted Nora and Rose driving home alone.
Rose hated the idea of being treated like she could not handle herself, but accepted an escort after Nora quietly said, “Mom, tonight isn’t the night to prove anything.”
Rose stared at her daughter.
Lucas almost smiled.
“She gets that from you.”
“Unfortunately.”
Before leaving, Nora walked back toward the booth.
Her sketchbook remained open where she had abandoned it.
Lucas saw the page.
The drawing was no longer just a carburetor.