The Pawnbroker by Aimée Thurlo Page B

or the guy in the van were after, though, it would be out of the bad guys’ reach pretty soon. The question was puzzling, and Charlie wasn’t used to all these options. In his special-ops unit, his job had been simple. Find someone who might have useful information—hopefully an insurgent, then haul him in for interrogation. And, stay alive while doing that.
    â€œCall Nancy,” he spoke to his phone.
    â€œWhat’s going on, Charlie?” was the first thing she said. “You still at Baza’s place?”
    â€œI’m watching the officers clean out the apartment and search for Baza’s vehicle. Guess what? I just discovered I’m not the only one interested. I think I just saw Eddie Henderson, at least based on the gold Mustang and a parking sticker. And he just had a conversation with someone in a van who’s watching Baza’s apartment with binoculars.”
    â€œYou sure it was Eddie Henderson in the ’stang?”
    â€œThe vehicle and parking sticker fit, but I didn’t get a look at the driver or read the registration sticker on his rear window before he took off. Sorry.”
    â€œOkay, then what about the guy in the van? Who else besides us wants to find out where Baza lives and what he was up to? Eddie? His killer?”
    â€œI was wondering the same thing. I can’t make out any details on the person in the van; he or she is wearing a hoodie. I also can’t confirm there’s only one individual—the headrest hides the passenger side from my position. The van is a dirty blue Chevy with a bad paint job, not sure of the exact model. It’s got side windows, though, and they’re tinted. Again, I can’t confirm if the guy is alone. The tag is yellow, New Mexico, ALT-753.”
    â€œHang on, and I’ll go to my cruiser and run it on my MDT—mobile data terminal. I’m in the kitchen right now. Call you back in a few.”
    â€œCopy,” Charlie answered, setting the phone on his thigh and holding the binoculars with both hands again. The angle right now didn’t give him more than the back of the driver’s head, but it also kept him from being easily seen. He was in a deep shadow beneath the thick branches of a mulberry tree just beyond the sidewalk.
    A minute later, he felt the phone vibrate. It was Nancy.
    â€œUnless the vehicle is a white Toyota Corolla, the tag is stolen,” Nancy said. “Which gives me a reason to speak to the driver and search the vehicle. Stay out of sight and keep watch. Let me know if anyone leaves the vehicle or it drives off. I’ll be there with backup in ten minutes. And don’t approach the van, Charlie. This guy could be the shooter.”
    â€œThat’s why I stuck around. But if the van leaves, I’m following.”
    â€œThat would be your decision, of course. Just don’t provoke a confrontation, and stay in your car. By the way, what car are you in now? Not something flashy, I hope.”
    Charlie described the Chevy, which could go unnoticed in a two-car garage, then ended the call. He hoped DuPree and the crime-scene people wouldn’t leave before Nancy and her backup arrived. Otherwise, he might end up having to tail the van.
    The minutes passed slowly, but the guy in the van kept watch on the police activity, only putting down his binoculars from time to time to look around for anyone who might be watching him. So far, he hadn’t given Charlie’s car a second glance.
    Tenants who were coming home from work were also curious about the police, and several were standing around the big black-and-white van, watching. Officer Chavez stood outside the apartment, keeping the onlookers at a distance. So far, it didn’t appear that Baza’s car had been found, and no officers were checking vehicles at the moment. Perhaps DuPree was no longer convinced it was in the area.
    Nancy called again. “I’m a block away. I have backup in another