"Is he still okay? Why are you here if he's okay? You said he was fine."

"He's all right but there's a problem, Seliah," said Hood. "Can we talk?"

"I want some shade. There's a few minutes before the next group."

They sat facing one another in white resin chairs in a wedge of shade along the locker room wall. The fall afternoon was hot. Hood knew that Seliah lifeguarded year-round, and also taught swimming here at the complex, and was a senior summer lifeguard up in Laguna Beach. She'd been a freestyler in college, third in the Pan American Games her senior year. She was fit and beautiful.

Hood told her about the video of Sean and what they found at the safe house a few minutes later. She said nothing. He said the video was definitive and the neighbors' descriptions fit Sean, right down to the tatts and the biker vest and a cut-down shotgun. She listened without interrupting, hat low, sunglasses on, unreadable.

"He wouldn't do that. He's a Christian. He protects his soul-doesn't ignore it. He's the most moral man I know and I do not accept this. Has he been framed?"

"We're pretty sure he did it," said Bly. "He's right on camera, and there are witnesses who described him in some detail."

"Did anyone see him murder anyone? Did anyone shoot video of that?"

"No, Seliah," said Hood.

"Then I'll wait for irrefutable evidence."

"What you should do is prepare yourself for the worst," said Hood.

"The worst is the cartels bag him and do to him what they did to Jimmy Holdstock. And if that happens to Sean, I'll never forgive you or the holy trinity of ATF. Sean would, but I won't."

"That's why we need to find him," said Hood. "Pretty much right now."

"You'll arrest him."