I frowned. We were already doing the arrest in a public place. Having Candelerio’s family around would only make things even more complicated.

“Dressed up?” I said. “He’s bringing his family to meet Perrine?”

McDonough shrugged.

“Who knows with a family of drug dealers?” he said. “Maybe meeting the Sun King is like meeting real royalty to them. How many opportunities do you get to have an audience with a king?”

I went back to my window perch. I pinned the glasses onto every car that slowed, onto every pedestrian who walked past on the sidewalk. With Candelerio on the way, it meant that Perrine would be coming along any moment now.

My heart fluttered into my throat as a kitted-out black Escalade suddenly pulled up in front of the restaurant. A back door popped open, and out came three men. I tried to spot faces, but all I caught were Yankees baseball caps and aviator sunglasses before the three were inside.

“Did anybody see? Is it Perrine? Can anyone confirm ID?” I frantically called over the radio.

“Negative. No confirmation,” called the DEA SWAT.

“Not sure,” called a cop from the team at the restaurant’s rear. “They went in too fast.”

“Damn it,” I said as Hughie whistled by the window.

“Mike, movement. Six o’clock,” he said.

I panned the glasses back to the restaurant, where a dark-skinned Dominican waitress with big silver hoop earrings and short black hair was stepping out onto the sidewalk.

The attractive Rihanna look-alike was named Valentina Jimenez, and she was a cousin of the informant who was helping us out on the case. She’d come out to give us the signal. If Valentina lit a cigarette, it would mean that she had spotted Perrine.

I watched her intently as she stood in front of the restaurant, looking up and down the street.