“Which car?” “I think it’s the white van. It’s been behind me since San Jose.” “Where are we?” “Oakland.” He wasn’t familiar enough with California geography to know exactly where they were, but the ocean made him think they must be around San Francisco. “How far away from Sonoma?” “About an hour.” There were a fair number of cars around them for midmorning, although it wasn’t stop-and-go traffic. “How’d they find us? Did they hack into the LoJack on our rental?” he asked. “If that’s the case, we would only be able to lose them temporarily, like in Phoenix. They’d find us again pretty quick.” The only way they’d lose their tail was to ditch the car. Which meant a cab or public transportation. Wait a minute...“Oakland, you said?”