The next morning, when I left to go to Pinx, I got to the bottom of the stairs and noticed there was an unmarked car blocking me in. I walked over and saw that Javier O’Shea was in the driver’s seat. He was alone in the car.

“Are you afraid I’m going to make a run for it?”

“There’s no parking on your street.”

“Well, you’re a public servant, do something about it.”

I think he might have smiled a little at that, but I wasn’t sure. I was exhausted and bleary-eyed, so I wasn’t trusting what was in front of me. I’d stayed up late enough to watch both of the movies I’d brought home. Well, I sort of watched them. They were meant to take my mind off things, but I couldn’t help thinking about what we thought we knew. That certain members of the LAPD had encouraged Trailblazers to beat up gay men, eventually resulting in the death of one of those men. It was the opposite of what those teenagers were supposed to be learning; they were supposed to be learning to uphold the law. Instead, they were learning how to break it.

Looking at O’Shea, I couldn’t help but feel some revulsion. “Are you involved in the Trailblazer program?” I asked without thinking it through.

“What? Why are you asking about that?”

“A friend wants to send his kid,” I lied. “Do you know anything about it?”

“No, I’m not involved with that. It’s kind of exclusive.”

“I imagine you’re not white enough.”

He was a little taken aback by my honesty, but he couldn’t say I was wrong. “Yeah, something like that. I went to see the woman who owns that gallery. I showed her a picture of Gaines. It was Percy and Gaines who threatened her.”

What was he up to? I wondered. He sounded like he suspected his partner of something, but I didn’t believe it for a second. He just wanted me to think he was a good guy. There was no way—

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t know specifically why she was threatened or, if she does, she isn’t saying.”

It sounded like she hadn’t told him the pictures were ‘real.’ She must not have trusted him any more than I did.

“And I went by to see the Petersons at the Mondrian.

“The Mondrian Hotel? Isn’t that a little pricey?”

“They think the LAPD is going to pay for it. They hired a lawyer and they’re trying to sue us for telling them their son was dead when he wasn’t.”

“But Mr. Peterson identified the body.”

“Yeah, now he’s saying he never identified the body. That it was all Percy. That he just said what Percy wanted him to say.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?”

“I don’t believe he misses his son. Beyond that I’m not sure what I believe.” He gave me a hard look and asked, “Are you ready to tell me where Ted Bain is?”

“I don’t know where he is,” I said. Surprisingly, that was true.

“Percy is looking for him. If he matters to you at all you’d better hope I find him first.”

He held out a business card. I took it and looked at it, but it didn’t make much sense.

“What is this?”

“It’s someone in Internal Affairs. Give it to Ted Bain and tell him he can trust that person. And if he won’t trust them, call information and contact the FBI.”

Then he drove away. I was left standing there wondering, who was that? I’d been fairly certain all along that O’Shea was one of the bad guys. Now I wasn’t so sure. I mean, it seemed like he was doing a good thing. But I still couldn’t help wondering if it was a trick of some kind. I wondered, too, if this meant he wasn’t going to be following me around anymore? That would be nice.

When I got to Pinx, Missy had already opened. It was Mikey’s day off. I tried to stay around the store a bit more on Mikey’s days off just in case. I didn’t think anything would go wrong, but he made a point of suggesting I be there, so if something did go wrong I’d never hear the end of it.

“I’m sorry about your friend Lainey,” I told Missy once I got behind the counter with her.

She gave me a funny look. “She quit. She didn’t die. I mean, we’re still friends.”

“Okay, well, if you have any other friends who might like to work here…”

“Lainey.”

“But she quit.”

“She’s willing to come back for a quarter more an hour.”

“Why does she want a quarter more an hour?”

“Hazard pay.”

I knew I was a soft touch but this was ridiculous. “If Lainey wants her job back she just needs to call me, but, no, she’s not getting a raise.”

Missy frowned. I was sure her next move was to get an even bigger raise for herself. The words “but I’ve been here longer than Lainey, I deserve fifty cents more an hour” hung in the air.

“And do me a favor. Don’t giggle when people rent porn.”

“The titles are funny.”

“Just don’t.”

I excused myself and went back to the office where I called Ivy Bell. Her answering machine picked up. I almost left a message but hung up. Thinking about Ted’s apartment stopped me. If that same someone broke into Ivy’s, they’d know I was looking for Ted. I was pretty sure Percy already knew I was looking for Ted, and certainly O’Shea knew. Maybe it didn’t matter.

Deciding to leave a message, I called again. This time the phone was picked up right away. I had the feeling I might have accidentally stumbled onto some code of sorts. Call twice, and I’ll pick up the second time.

“Ivy?” I asked.

“Yeah? Who’s this?”

“This is Noah Valentine at Pinx Video.”

“Oh God. Ted told me you were sticking your nose into things.”

Well, at least I wouldn’t have to explain much.

“I’m trying to reach Ted. Tell him I have a phone number for someone at Internal Affairs. Someone who can keep him safe.”

“Um, yeah I could tell him that. If I hear from him.”

Then she hung up on me so hard I pulled my ear away from the phone.

I spent a little bit of time working on the tax stuff, but it was deadly boring so I went out to the front. Missy was hanging on the phone, something that I discouraged when there were customers in the store, and since there were two women in the store I gave Missy a look. She said, “Gotta go” into the phone. Putting the receiver back in the cradle, she said, “Lainey will be in on Friday.”

“Good.”

We sat there quietly for a moment and then I said, “Why don’t you pick out a movie to put in, something that hasn’t been going out a lot.” It actually did work. People would rent movies right out of our VCR.

She’d only been gone a moment when a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair came up to the counter and laid out three gay porn videos in front of me. A View to a Thrill, Man of the Year and Idol Eyes. My first thought was that she was some sort of Christian who was now going to scold me. Instead, she looked up at me and asked, “How do you choose?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How do you decide which one you want to see?”

“Um, well,” I was turning really red. “It depends on which of the models you like best.”

“But, is there a story? They just have the actors’ names on the back so it’s hard to tell.”

I pointed to A View to a Thrill and said, “This is sort of James Bond take-off.” Oh God, I was making a double entendre. Missy came back and picked up the gist of the conversation.

“You really shouldn’t pay too much attention to the story. They certainly didn’t.” I cleared my throat. “These are all really good choices, though. Very popular.”

The woman continued to ruminate.

Missy said, “I picked out Breakfast at Tiffany’s, but if you’d rather play one of those…”

“Very funny.”

“I’ll take this one,” the woman said, pointing at Idol Eyes. Handing me her membership card she said, “I think he has kind eyes.”

“You know, a lot of people mention that,” I lied.

The phone rang as I checked the woman out. Missy answered, saying brightly, “Pinx Video.”

“Uh-huh, who’s calling?” She listened. “Well, why don’t you want to tell me?”

That set off alarm bells. “Is that for me?” I asked as I ripped the woman’s receipt out of the printer. She just needed to sign it so I could rip off the tabs and give her the yellow copy. Luckily, she was going to pay on return.

“He doesn’t want to say who it is,” Missy said, clearly annoyed.

“That’s okay. Tell him to hold on.”

The woman, whose name was Ann Choad, took an inordinate time with her signature. Most people simply scrawled something at the bottom of the form, but Ann Choad was taking care with each letter. I raised my eyebrows at Missy and switched places with her.

“Hello?”

“This is Ted. Meet me on the trail up by the Griffith Observatory. The East Trail. Don’t let anyone follow you.”

And then he hung up.

Missy stared at me. “That was a quick call.”

“I have to go.”

“But what if something happens?”

“You’ll be fine, really.”

“Should I call Mikey?”

“No. Do not call Mikey. I’ll be back in an hour. You’ll be fine.”

And she would be fine. I hoped.

I gathered my things and walked out back to my car. As I did, I thought, Make sure no one follows me. That just sounded ridiculous. What had happened to my life? Buildings were burning, bodies were showing up, I was investigated, threatened, and now I had to worry about being followed. How had this happened to me?

I got into my car and started it. Looking around I tried to see if any of the cars in the parking lot had a driver. None did. I backed up and took the exit ramp up to the street.

Watching traffic, I turned north on Hyperion. I scanned the cars behind me. I couldn’t believe it when a gray sedan pulled away from the curb so quickly it nearly got hit by a little Jeep. The sedan, which was about the size of a bedroom, stayed in the lane behind me.

Continuing down Hyperion, I wondered what to do. I didn’t know how to lose a tail. I mean, I’d seen it a million times on TV, but how did you really do it? At Griffith Park Boulevard, I pulled over into the left turn lane without signaling. The light turned yellow, then red. I didn’t have the nerve to speed through. I just sat there, waiting, with the gray sedan sitting two cars behind me.

When I had the light, I made a left-hand turn and then, at the last possible moment, made a sudden right turn into the Mayfair’s parking lot. I saw the sedan continue on, unable to make the turn in time. I drove around the parking lot as though I was looking for a spot, keeping an eye on the entrance. And then, on my second turn around the lot, the sedan pulled in. I immediately pulled out of the parking lot onto Griffith Park Boulevard.

I sped down to the next intersection and turned right. The sedan had not appeared in my rear view mirror. I passed Marshall High, turning onto Franklin right before the Shakespeare Bridge. The only car behind me was a small blue sports car, I was fairly sure of that. Still, I raced along the streets at about fifty miles an hour, far too fast for residential streets and far too fast for my little car.

I turned north on Hillhurst, losing myself in the traffic. I was fine. I was sure of it. I did wish I hadn’t bought a red car. I’m sure there were better colors for when you were attempting to lose a tail. Gray, for instance.

Crossing Los Feliz, I followed the signs for the Observatory and in a few minutes I was in Griffith Park, passing the Greek, rising into the hills, the terrain around me becoming scraggly and ragged.

Five minutes later, I was at the Observatory and parking alongside the road. I got out of the car and walked toward the famous building. I couldn’t help it; I had to turn around to see if I was being followed. There were a lot of cars but no gray sedan anywhere in sight.

I scanned the grounds looking for the trail. I really had no idea where it began. Was it even on this side of the street? I was nearly to the steps when I noticed a dirt path to the left. That must be it, I thought. How was I going to find Ted Bain? Was he somewhere nearby watching for me? Checking to see that I wasn’t being followed?

I followed the trail down below the Observatory. Fortunately, it was a cool day thanks to more May Gray. I had on a thick polo shirt, jeans and a pair of Reeboks. I didn’t expect to break a sweat. The trail descended down the hill at a steep enough slope that it increased your speed noticeably as you walked down. Soon I came upon a juncture where I could turn either east or west. At the juncture was a bench pointed at an amazing view of L.A. Ted Bain sat on that bench taking in the view.

I sat down next to him and looked over. The trail was dusty. Some of the dust covered his face, and so had the tears he’d been crying. Together they’d made a few muddy streaks across his cheeks.

“I’m sorry about Guy,” I said.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter. I knew that it did.

“You’ve found some place safe?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t ask where. “I have this card for you. It’s Internal Affairs at the LAPD. I think if you contact them they will be able to help you. If you don’t trust them, you can call the FBI.”

He nodded. Emotion seemed to overwhelm him. It must be pretty terrifying to need the services of the FBI.

“I think I understand what happened,” I said. “You saw the police kill someone and now they want to kill you.”

“Not the police. The Frontier Scouts.” He was silent for a moment. “I, um, I went to the park. I used to party sometimes. I had a couple of days off and I had the urge. I went down to the park to score, but the, uh, dealers weren’t there. I walked deeper in, looking for them. That’s when I saw what those kids were doing. The policemen were encouraging them, yelling at them to…”

He swallowed hard.

“I ran home. I don’t think they knew. I don’t think they saw me. I knew I couldn’t tell anyone. I mean, they were wearing uniforms, you know? It wasn’t hard to figure out who they were. So, I kept my mouth shut.”

“Until Guy came up with a plan to help you?”

“Help me? I wouldn’t say that’s the right way to look at it. Help me.” He gave me an ironic smile. “I met Guy, we started hanging out. I wasn’t ever going to tell anybody what I saw, but I had these dreams. Dreams about what I’d seen. One night I told him.”

“And that’s when he took the photos.”

“I didn’t know he was going to do that. I would have tried to stop him. I didn’t want—”

“Why did he do it then?”

“Money.”

“He wanted to blackmail the police?”

“He didn’t tell me that. He told me he took the pictures to keep me safe. And when he’d tell me that, it made sense. But then later, when I thought about it… It didn’t make sense, you know?”

“So, the night the camera shop burned. He went there to meet Detective Gaines. To blackmail him.”

Ted nodded. “He got the exhibit. There were a couple of pictures in the press before it opened. And the police showed. Just like he thought they would.”

“The night the store burned, that wasn’t the first time he’d met Gaines?”

“No. They’d talked before.” He stopped, looked a bit confused then went on, “Guy wanted to move to New York, Manhattan. That’s where the real photographers are. He said he wanted to take me with him.”

“Why did he think he’d get money from cops? They don’t make that much.”

“Good cops don’t make that much. But these weren’t good cops.”

“Did Guy kill Gaines?”

Ted shrugged. “He must have. He came to my place with blood on his clothes. He wouldn’t talk about it, though. He said that would just make things worse. It must have been self-defense. Gaines must have tried to kill him first. Because, well, there was no money in killing Gaines so why would he have done it?”

“And you still planned to go to New York with him even after…”

“I loved him. I still do.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Saturday night. He said he was going to get money. He said I should pack. So I did. I packed. And then I waited. He never came back.”

“What money, though?” I asked. “Gaines didn’t pay, did he?”

“I don’t think this was the first time he’d blackmailed someone. He said he had a benefactor, that’s how he got the camera shop. I don’t think he made much money from it, yet he always had cash. Just…never enough.”

There was a movement behind us and I turned to see Nino Percy holding a handgun in both hands. It was aimed at Ted.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Don’t you fucking move.”

Oh my God, I thought. I’ve led the police right to Ted. They’d probably kill him. And it was my fault.