The front door was now open, and standing just inside was a large man in a suit that did little to hide his bulk. He stepped aside so that another man, this one only slightly smaller than the first, could pass through. Two others appeared in the doorway. Neither was in the same size class as the two behemoths. One looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He was thin, but walked with a confidence that made Petra think he was in charge. The other man looked pale and nervous. Petra estimated that he was in his mid to late sixties, the right age to be Winters.

The one in charge had a hold of the other guy’s arm and was helping to keep him from collapsing. Once they were outside, one of the big men took over, lifting the man so that his feet barely touched the ground as he walked him toward the Mercedes in the driveway.

When the car door opened, the dome light came on, illuminating the older man’s face.

Winters. Definitely.

Even from this distance, she could see fear on the man’s face. She touched the zoom, took one more picture, then slipped the camera back into her bag.

Once Winters was shoved into the back of the silver sedan, Petra retreated to the next street down, then sprinted back to the Buick.

“Go!” she yelled as she jumped back into the car. “We have to follow them.”

Kolya pulled the car onto the road. “Follow who?”

“A silver Mercedes. They have Winters.”

Kolya turned onto Winters’s street just in time to see the taillights of the Mercedes turning two blocks away.

“Hurry,” Petra said. “But for God’s sake, don’t let them know we’re here.”

• • •

They followed the Mercedes south on the 101 freeway into Hollywood and then downtown. There it finally exited onto a side street.

“Not too close,” Petra said. Unlike on the freeway, they could be easily spotted now.

“I know,” Kolya shot back. “But I don’t want to lose them, either.”