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turned and followed, making sure to keep a safe distance between him and the fleeing boosters. Jake lost track of him before long, but Annie guided him back on the right route. Five minutes later, after several turns, Annie held up the phone. The small red dot was at a standstill.
    “It stopped,” she said, and pointed. “Turn there.”
    Jake slowed and turned the wheel. “If we knew we were going to be following someone we could’ve brought your car. It would be invisible anywhere. This thing is as obvious as a pimple on the tip of your nose.”
    “You’re comparing your car to a zit?”
    “Okay, bad analogy.”
    “You’d better pull over here,” Annie said. “He stopped right up there.”
    Jake pulled to the curb and stopped, picked up the binoculars, and trained them down the street. The Hyundai was pulled into the driveway of a house half a block away.
    A few minutes later, a white van backed in behind the Hyundai.
    “They must’ve called their connection on the way,” Jake said. “It looks like they’re about to make an exchange.”
    Jake and Annie watched through the binoculars as a man jumped from the van and opened the side door. The guys from the car stepped out, opened the trunk, and a booster began to transfer the stolen televisions to the van.
    The other booster opened the garage door and spent the next few minutes carrying cartons and bags to the van.
    “There’s a whole treasure trove of stuff in there,” Annie said.
    “These guys are professionals. Those boxes probably hold anything from detergent, to cologne, to high-end electronics. And at ten cents on the dollar, a van full of stuff can add up pretty quickly.”
    The driver of the van inspected the contents of each container as it was loaded, jotting something in a notepad.
    “We should’ve brought the camera,” Jake said.
    “I didn’t know we’d get into this so soon or I would’ve.”
    “Doesn’t matter. As long as the tracker’s in there, we’ll get them.”
    “He’s counting out some bills,” Annie said. “That guy must know his prices pretty well.”
    “This is likely all he does. It’s his job to know prices.”
    The money was handed to one of the boosters. There was a lively discussion and the van driver peeled off a couple more bills and handed them over. He slammed the side door of the van, climbed in behind the steering wheel, and drove away.
    The red dot on the cell phone began to move.
    Jake sat the binoculars down and turned to Annie. “Phase three coming up.” He waited until the van was out of sight and then started the car and eased from the curb, careful to keep well back.
    “I got the address of the house,” Annie said, as they drove slowly past. She dug in her handbag for a notepad and jotted it down. “I’ll bet that house is fully furnished with boosted goods.”
    “Call Chris,” Jake said.
    “Good idea.” Annie got out her cell, called Cranston’s, and was put through to Chris immediately. She filled him in on their progress. “You can probably move those TVs away from the front of the store now. No use attracting any more flies.”
    Chris laughed and Annie promised to keep him informed.
    Annie had propped Jake’s cell phone on the dash and Jake kept his eye on the red dot. “It’s moving fast now,” he said.
    “He’s on the freeway. I hope he’s not leaving town.”
    “Doesn’t matter. The tracker uses cell towers. We can find him anywhere.”
    “He’s pulling off again,” Annie said. “Step it up a bit.”
    Jake followed the route the van took, and in five minutes, pulled off the freeway into an industrial area. The red dot indicated the van stopped two blocks away.
    “Should we drive by?” Jake asked.
    “Better idea. Stop back half a block and we’ll walk up and see what’s going on.”
    Jake pulled the Firebird over a hundred feet short of the suspected industrial unit and they got out, walked up the sidewalk, and approached the building.
    “He’s likely behind the