Day Four
July 24, 1952
Thursday Morning
Wilde stayed alone in London’s bed until dawn, neither sleeping nor awake, then headed over to Alabama’s hotel and rapped on the door until her groggy face answered. Her hair was a mess, clearly the loser in the fight with the pillow.
She stretched.
“What time is it?”
Wilde stepped inside and shut the door.
“Time to get to work,” he said.
“Did London ever show up?”
Wilde shook his head.
“No.”
“That’s not good. I got to pee and take a shower,” she said.
“Do ’em both at the same time. The clock’s ticking.”
She headed for the bathroom and said over her shoulder, “There needs to be a law against having to wake up to you. I’m going to need coffee.”
“Fine.”
“I mean, as soon as I step out of the bathroom.”
“What does that mean? You expect me to go fetch it while you’re showering?”
She nodded.
“There you go.”
An hour later they pulled up to an abandoned warehouse in the old industrial area north of the BNSF rail yard. The building was brick, four-stories, and boarded tight. Wilde worked at a window in the back until they got access, then led the way up the interior stairway to the roof.
The view was unlimited in all directions.
A crystal blue sky hung above.
Puffy clouds were building up over the mountains, hinting of rain and maybe even a serious storm.
At the south edge of the roof, Wilde trained binoculars on Dayton River’s boxcar setup, pulling the scene in good enough to make out someone’s face if there was a face there to make out.
Right now there wasn’t.
He handed them to Alabama.
She pointed them at the target and got them in focus.
“We good?” Wilde asked.
She nodded.
“We’re good.”
River wasn’t the one who shot at Wilde last night. However, he was the one who initially took Alexa Blank out of the diner during her shift. That meant River was connected to the man from last night. With any luck, that man would show his face at River’s place today.
With even more luck, Alabama would see him.
She might recognize him.
If she didn’t, she could at least memorize his face.
Wilde looked around.
The roof had a two-foot-high parapet at the perimeter on all sides. In the middle was a rusty heating unit.
“Stay low,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”
“Don’t worry.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t get spotted.”
“I heard you.”
“If you see him heading this way, even if it looks innocent like he’s just out for a jog or something, get the hell out of here.”
“I will.”
“Don’t let him trap you up here.”
“You worry too much.”
“I wish that was true. Are you sure you can do this?”
“Yes, stop pestering me.”
Wilde looked at his watch.
“I’ll be back at noon.”
“Bring food and water.”
He nodded.
“If the guy shows up, make your way over to the BNSF building,” he said. “Call me at the office with their phone. If I don’t answer, call a cab and get to the office. Wait for me there.”
“Okay.”