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But then she saw Laffont’s white Ioniq make the turn and head toward Broadway. It was followed by Aghzafi’s Volvo. She grabbed the rover again. “Lilia, did Paul confirm the plate?” She waited.
“Yes, confirmed.”
Ballard nodded to herself.
“Okay. Tom, you have the target? I caught a light.”
“Affirmative. Locked on.”
The light turned green and Ballard waited for the car in front of her to get moving. Lilia’s voice came up on the rover.
“And we are right behind. Have target in sight,” she said.
“Okay, keep spacing,” Ballard said. “I think we’re heading to the freeway.”
She jockeyed the Defender around the slow mover in front of her and made the turn onto Broadway. Laffont began a play-by-play on the rover.
“Okay, we’re on the freeway roundabout. Turning north at the moment.”
Ballard cursed as she caught the light at Temple. She figured that the Mercedes was on the freeway merging lanes and quickly approaching the 110 interchange.
“Tom, which way are we going?” she radioed.
“One-ten north,” Laffont responded. “Looks like Pasadena.”
Not so fast,Ballard thought. The 110 north fed to both the Glendale and Golden State Freeways. At this point Purcell—if it was Purcell they were following—could be going anywhere. She keyed her mic.
“Has anybody been able to see the driver? Have we confirmed the target?” She waited.
Lilia must have given her rover to Masser because Ballard heard him say, “It’s him. I saw him when he had his window down to talk to the guard at the garage. Sorry about my handset.”
They had photos of Purcell from his son’s Facebook page and a profile Hatteras had found online. It had run in theLos Angeles Legal Journalwhen he was appointed presiding judge of the superior court. The profile gave some details about the judge but did not reveal where he lived. They had no photo or home address from his driver’s license because the DMV had a security block on these. This was a common practice with law enforcement officers and the judiciary. Even the carregistration that they were able to access had a post office box for an address.
Ballard finally got on the freeway and started working her way ahead. Eventually, she saw Aghzafi’s Volvo. She was about to tell the others that she had caught up when her phone rang. It was Hatteras. “Colleen, what’s up?”
“How are you guys doing?”
“We’re in the middle of it. What do you need?”
“I just wanted you to know I started working on the DNA heritage pattern for Purcell.”
“Okay, what does that mean?”
“It’s a genetic family tree.”
“Okay… anything good yet?”
“I’m just starting.”
“Well, then, how about you let me know if you find something we can use as an investigative lead?”
“Of course. I will. Are you guys following the judge now? I can hear you’re in the car.”
“Yes, we are, and I really need to focus on this, Colleen. So if there isn’t anything else, I’m going to let you go.”
“Okay, good luck. Let me know how it goes.”
“Are you coming in tomorrow?”
