The kid swallowed hard, took a big breath, let it out. "Tyler," he said. "Tyler Damon."

45.

Tyler Damon gave Parker the saga of the Damon brothers, picking like a bird at a plate of pasta in Smeraldi's. The big blue eyes periodically made passes around the room and out to the Biltmore's Olive Street lobby, taking it all in like he'd fallen into an LA version of a Harry Potter book.

Parker's heart went out to him. The poor kid was terrified for his big brother, and terrified for himself. He had to feel like everything about his life was changing on a dime, and here he sat, telling it all to a cop.

"What's going to happen to us?" he asked miserably.

"You're going to be fine, Tyler," Parker said. "We need to find your brother so he'll be fine too. Can we make that happen?"

The skinny shoulders went up to his ears. He stared at his plate. "He hasn't answered any of my radio calls."

"He's been pretty busy today. I have a feeling we'll have better luck tonight."

"What if that guy with the motorcycle got him?"

"The guy with the motorcycle doesn't have the motorcycle anymore," Parker said. "According to what I was hearing across the street, your brother was hauling ass on that bike of his. The bad guy took a dive off the Bunker Hill Steps. He should have died."

"But he got away?"

"Your brother was long gone by then." Parker tossed some bills on the table and got up. "Come on, kiddo, let's blow this shack. You're riding shotgun."

Tyler Damon's eyes went huge. "Really?"

"You've got to be my partner. This isn't going to work without you."

"I have to call Madame Chen first."

"We'll call her from the car. She's not going to ground you or anything, is she?"

The boy shook his head. "I just don't want her to worry."

"We'll call her."

They went out through the main lobby, where Andi Kelly was loitering. Parker raised a hand and gave the universal sign for "I'll call you," but didn't pause. He needed Tyler Damon's trust, and he wasn't going to get it by giving his attention to other people.

Parker's car sat in a red zone with an LAPD pass clipped to the sun visor. They got in, the boy trying not to make a big deal of being impressed with the convertible. Parker put the top up for privacy, and because, with the sun gone, it was damn cold. He made a mental note to take the kid out in the Jag after this mess was over.

"So," he said, "does Jace have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"A boyfriend?"

"No."

"Does he have any friends he might try to stay with?"

"I don't think so," Tyler said. "He's too busy to hang out."

The boy explained where he had been looking for his brother and why. Parker thought about it for a minute.

"Do you know if he was carrying much money with him?"

"We don't have very much money," the boy said.

"Credit cards?"

Tyler shook his head.

It wasn't likely Damon would have gone to a hotel anyway, Parker thought. Too confined, too many people, too much potential for trouble.

He made a phone call to the Midnight Mission and asked a friend there if anyone matching Jace Damon's description had come in, and to call him back if a possibility did show up.

His next call was to Madame Chen to allay her fears that Tyler had been abducted, or worse. She asked to speak to the boy, and they conversed in Mandarin, Tyler glancing up at Parker every so often, Parker pretending not to listen. Then the boy handed the phone back to him.

"I need Tyler to help me tonight, Madame Chen. I have to find Jace before anyone else does, and I can't do that without Tyler."

Parker could tell by the quality of the silence that she didn't like the idea.

"I won't let anything happen to him," Parker promised.

"You will bring him back tonight?"

A question rather than an order. She was worried. Hell of a woman, Parker thought, taking these kids in literally off the street. He didn't know a single person who would have done the same, himself included.

"I'll bring him back as soon as I can."

Another silence. Her voice was strained when she spoke again. "He has school tomorrow."

Parker didn't point out the incongruity of what she'd just said. She only wanted for their lives to go back to normal.

"I'll bring him back as soon as I can," he said again. He wanted to tell her that he could script this and that everything would work out like a Hallmark movie, but he couldn't.

"Take care of him," she said. "Take care of them both."

"I will," Parker said, and ended the call.

Tyler was watching him, watching his face, trying to read him the way he would read about Pythagoras, or figure out a math problem. It had to be frustrating for him in a way, Parker thought: having that big 168 IQ, but still being a little kid with little kid fears, and no real power over his life.

"You got a nickname?" Parker asked.

The boy hesitated for a minute. Like maybe he had one he didn't want.

"On the radio, my name is Scout," he said, brightening. "Jace is Ranger."

Parker nodded. "Scout. I like that. Buckle up, Scout. Let's ride."

46.

He needed to get rid of the negatives. Just get rid of them, get them to someone who didn't want to kill him. He'd been stupid to try to get something for them, but he had wanted someone to pay for Eta. To appease his own conscience, Jace supposed.

But no. This wasn't about him. He'd answered a call. He'd had no ulterior motive. It hadn't been his choice to be put in this position, just as it hadn't been Eta's choice. Other people had made choices with malice aforethought. He and Eta had just gotten in the way. Now he had to get out.

The evening chill had grown more damp. He could smell the ocean in it. When he wasn't sitting under a concrete bridge cocooned in a giant piece of Reynolds Wrap, Jace loved evenings like this. He liked to pull on a warm jacket and go up on the Chens' roof and look at the lights. He liked the soft, diffused quality of them when the ocean mist hung in the air. Standing on that roof was one of the few times he actually liked feeling alone.

He pushed to his feet, trying not to moan as stiff joints and tendons stretched reluctantly. He needed to keep moving or he wouldn't be able to move at all, and some junkie could stumble along and knock his head in for his space blanket.

Maybe if he could get the negatives to a reporter, to a TV station, he thought. Everyone in LA could find out about them together, decide together who was paying whom for what. Maybe this whole nightmare he was living could be made into a reality program. He should write the treatment himself, right now, get it off to an agent or a producer, or however that worked.

"Scout to Ranger, Scout to Ranger. Ranger, do you read me?"

The muffled voice came out of Jace's coat pocket. He steeled himself against the need to answer.

"Pick up, Ranger!" Tyler's voice pleaded. "Jace! Pick up! I'm in trouble!"

Parker grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pretended to jostle him. Tyler put his own hands around his throat and made a sound like he was being strangled.

"Tyler!"

"Ja-"

He clamped his hand over his mouth, cutting off the sound.

Parker snatched the walkie-talkie. "I want the negatives or the kid dies."

"Leave him alone, you motherfucker!"

"I want the negatives!" Parker shouted.

"You get the negatives when I get my brother."

Parker gave him instructions to meet them on the lowest level of the parking garage beneath the Bonaventure Hotel in half an hour.

"If you hurt him," Damon warned, "I'll kill you."

"If you fuck this up, like you fucked up Jace in the park," Parker said, "I'll kill you both."

He turned the radio off, and looked at his young cohort.

"That was mean," Tyler said.

Parker nodded. "Yeah, it was, but if you had just radioed him and told him to meet you because you had a cop sitting here telling you to, do you think he would have come?"

"No."

"You think he'll be mad?"

"Yes."

"Would you rather he was mad, or dead?"

The boy was silent for a moment as Parker started the car and pulled away from the front entrance of the hotel.

"I wish this wasn't happening," Tyler said.

"I know."

They sat in silence for a moment, waiting for Jace to emerge from the gloom.

"Kev?" the boy asked in a small, shy voice.

"Yes, Scout?"

"When I asked you before what's going to happen to Jace and me . . . I meant, like, after it's over. Will Jace and I get to stay together?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jace always said that if anybody ever found out about us, Children and Family Services would come, and everything would change."

"You're my partner," Parker said. "I'd never rat you out."

"But that other detective knows I live with the Chens, and he knows Jace is my brother. And he's pretty pissed off at you."

"Don't worry about him, kid. Bradley Kyle is going to have a lot of other things to worry about. Trust me."

Tyler sat up, suddenly at attention. "There's Jace!"

"Okay. Down in your seat," Parker said, putting the car in gear. "He can't see you until we're down there."

They rolled into the garage, well behind Jace, following from a distance, letting him move down from level to level to level.

"Does your brother own a gun?" Parker asked.

"No, sir."

"Chinese throwing stars?"

"No, sir."

"Is he schooled in the ways of killing men with his mind?"