The Night Fire (Renée Ballard, #3)(68)

The room was long, with a row of four-top tables running down the right side and deuces running down the left. The table across the aisle from Dupree’s four-top was already taken by a couple. The next deuce down was taken as well, but the third was open. Ballard realized that by sitting there she could have a full view of whoever sat across the table from Dupree.

She walked down the aisle, passing Dupree, and to the open table. Hanging her backpack over the back of the chair, she dropped her van keys on the table and turned to the four-top across the aisle, where three young women sat.

“Excuse me, do you mind watching my stuff while I go get food?” she asked. “I won’t be long. The line isn’t bad.”

“Sure, no problem,” one of the women said. “Take your time.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“No worries.”

She went back into the main dining room and got in line. While she waited she kept her eyes on the door to see if Kidd would enter. She looked away for just a moment, to text Bosch that only Dupree was in the building. Bosch responded, saying he had left the gas station and had moved closer to the restaurant. He asked if she was close to Dupree, and Ballard responded.

I got a table close enough to watch.

Bosch’s return came immediately.

Just be careful.

Ballard didn’t respond. It was her turn to order. She asked for fried chicken, collard greens, and peach cobbler. She wanted enough food to keep her at the table for as long as Dupree and Kidd were at theirs. After paying, she took her tray to the next room and saw that Dupree was now facing another black man at his table. The shaved scalp told her it was likely Kidd. She had not seen him enter the restaurant and guessed there might be a rear entrance. She carried her food tray past them and to her table, where she sat at a diagonal to the man meeting Dupree.

Ballard stole a casual glance and confirmed that it was Kidd. She took her phone out and held it at an angle so it would appear she was looking at something on the screen or taking a selfie, and started taking a video of Dupree and Kidd.

After a few seconds she stopped the video and texted it to Bosch. His response came quick.

No CLOSER!

And she sent him one back.

Roger that!

She started the video again but didn’t hold the phone consistently in one spot or it could be a giveaway. She ate her food and continued to act like she was reading e-mails, at times placing the phone flat on the table, at other times holding it up as if to look closely at something on the screen. The whole time she was recording.

Because of the distance between the two tables, Ballard could make out very little of what was said by Kidd and nothing of what was said by Dupree. The men were speaking in low tones, and only now and then could a word or two be heard from Kidd. It was clear by his demeanor, however, that Kidd was agitated if not angry about something. At one point he poked a finger down hard on the table and Ballard clearly heard him say, “I am not fucking around.”

He said it in a controlled and angry tone that carried through the sounds of dining, conversation, and overhead music in the room.

At that point Ballard had propped her phone against a sugar caddy on the table. The phone was tilted so it would look like she was reading or watching something, but it provided a low-angle recording of Kidd. She just hoped it picked up the audio.

Kidd lowered his voice again and continued speaking to Dupree. Then, seemingly in mid-sentence, Kidd got up from the table and started walking toward Ballard.

She quickly realized that if he saw the screen of her phone, he would know she was recording his meeting with Dupree. She grabbed the phone and cleared the screen just as Kidd got to her table.

He walked by her.

She waited, wanting to turn to see where he was going, but not willing to risk it.

Then she saw Dupree rise and head up the aisle to the main room and the front door of the restaurant. She saw him stuff an envelope in the side pocket of his sweatpants as he walked.

Ballard let a long five seconds go by before she turned to look behind her. Kidd was nowhere to be seen. There was a rear hallway with a restroom sign. She quickly texted Bosch.

Elvin has left the building. Dupree coming out front.

Blue sweats, dodgers cap, stay with him.

Ballard got up and went in the direction Kidd had gone. There were three doors at the end of the rear hallway: two restrooms and a rear exit. She pushed the third door open a few inches and saw nothing. She went wider and saw a white pickup truck with the KIDD CONSTRUCTION sign on the door going down the alley. She turned around and hurried back to the front of the restaurant, calling Bosch as she went.

“Elvin has left the building—really?” he said.

“I thought it was cute,” Ballard said. “Where’s Dupree?”

“He’s sitting in a car on the street, making a call. Where’s Kidd?”

“I think he’s heading back to Rialto.”

“Did you get anything?”

“I’m not sure. I got close but they were whispering. I’ll tell you one thing, though, Kidd was angry. I could tell.”

Ballard slowed her pace so that when she stepped out of the restaurant, she would look nonchalant.

“What’s our move?” Bosch asked.

“Stay on Dupree,” Ballard said. “I want to get to my van and see what I got on my phone.”

“Roger that.”