“Sort of.”
I got ready for another argument. But I was surprised.
“I told you about the battery alarm on the bracelet, right?” Valenzuela said.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, I got the twenty percent alarm about an hour ago.”
“So how much longer can you track him until the battery’s dead?”
“Probably about six to eight hours’ active tracking before it goes on low pulse. Then he’ll come up every fifteen minutes for another five hours.”
I thought about all of this. I just needed to make it through the night and to know that Maggie and Hayley were safe.
“The thing is, when he is on low pulse he beeps,” Valenzuela said. “You’ll hear him coming. Or he’ll get tired of the noise and juice the battery.”
Or maybe he’ll pull the Houdini act again, I thought.
“Okay,” I said. “You told me that there were other alarms that you could build into the tracking program.”
“That’s right.”
“Can you set it so you get an alarm if he comes near a specific target?”
“Yeah, like if it’s on a child molester you can set an alarm if he gets close to a school. Stuff like that. It’s got to be a fixed target.”
“Okay.”
I gave him the address of the apartment on Dickens in Sherman Oaks where Maggie and my daughter lived.
“If he comes within ten blocks of that place you call me. Doesn’t matter what time, call me. That’s the favor.”
“What is this place?”
“It’s where my daughter lives.”
There was a long silence before Valenzuela responded.
“With Maggie? You think this guy’s going to go there?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping that as long as he’s got the tracker on his ankle he won’t be stupid.”
“Okay, Mick. You got it.”
“Thanks, Val. And call my home number. My cell is dead.”
I gave him the number and then was silent for a moment, wondering what else I could say to make up for my betrayal two nights earlier. Finally, I let it go. I had to focus on the current threat.
I moved from the kitchen and down the hallway to my office. I rolled through the Rolodex on my desk until I found a number and then grabbed the desk phone.
I dialed and waited. I looked out the window to the left of my desk and noticed for the first time that it was raining. It looked like it was going to come down hard and I wondered if the weather would affect the satellite tracking of Roulet. I dropped the thought when my call was answered by Teddy Vogel, the leader of the Road Saints.
“Speak to me.”
“Ted, Mickey Haller.”
“Counselor, how are you?”
