The Sentry Part 14

"You f.u.c.kin' thief. I'm call in' five-oh."

Pike decided there was nothing more to be had, and walked out of the room. Carla Fuentes trailed after him, anxiously pulling his arm.

"Let me ask you somethin'. If he skips on the bond, they really gonna take my house?"

"Yes."

"But it's not my fault if he runs."

"You signed the bond."

"Waitaminute. Wait, now, what about this? If he gets himself killed, will I still lose the house? If he's dead, they can't blame me for that, can they? They won't take the house?"

Pike stopped when he reached the door.

"No. You'll lose the bond fee and application, but the court will release the bond back to the bondsman."

"What does that mean?"

"You won't lose the house."

She thought it through, and some of the terror left her eyes.

"What you gonna do if you find him?"

"What would you like me to do?"

"Break his other d.a.m.ned arm. Break it real good, then beat him to death."

Pike stepped into the sun and headed back to the Monte Carlo.

14.

Pike climbed into the Monte Carlo, but this time into the pa.s.senger seat, leaving Hector tied to the wheel. Hector once more scrunched as far from Pike as possible.

"Look at my hands, homes. Look at'm! They're turnin' blue!"

Pike fingered through the papers in the box, wanting to see what he had.

"You gonna let me go? You gotta let me go, bro, this s.h.i.t here is kidnap-pin'. That's a federal offense."

"Shut up."

Hector fell silent, but grumbled under his breath.

Pike found cash receipts and instructions for three disposable phones Mendoza purchased from Best Buy. Pike wondered if his friend Elvis Cole could use the information to locate Mendoza or identify who he was calling. Cole was a private investigator, and had relationships with most of the cell service providers. He might also be able to help find Alberto Gomer.

Pike studied Reuben Mendoza's picture last, then dropped it into the box. A plan to flush Mendoza out of the weeds was forming, and the picture would help.

Pike said, "Hold still."

Hector's eyes bulged when Pike drew his knife. Pike clipped the ties, cutting him free.

"Get out."

"What get out? This is my car."

"Out."

"Bro, what, you takin' my car?"

"I won't tell you again."

Hector shoved open the door, and got out in a sullen funk. He slammed the door as Pike slid behind the wheel.

"This ain't right, stealin' my car. You takin' my wallet, too? You takin' my phone?"

Pike drove back to his Jeep. He left Hector's wallet in the Monte Carlo, but added his phone to Mendoza's box. Pike didn't take time to examine these things because he wanted to keep pressing.

Pike drove directly to Lily Palmer's house, parked in Wilson's carport, and rang the bell. She answered the second ring.

"I knew you'd be back. Did you find Wilson and Dru?"

"Not yet. Is Jared here?"

She sighed.

"Jared's always here."

She called into the house, and Jared's flip-flops announced his approach. He was freshly slathered with sunblock and carried a bottle of beer. He frowned when he saw Pike and tugged the iPod buds from his ears.

"Dude, you got it all. I don't know anything else."

"The man with the cast-"

Pike showed him the picture of Reuben Mendoza.

"Was this him?"

Jared glanced at the picture, then brightened with a surprised smile that made him look proud of himself.

"Dude! That's him! The Cast Man!"

"You're sure?"

"f.u.c.kin' A."

Jared beamed, and continued to vomit up memories.

"Dude had khaki baggies and a gray plaid shirt, but it was open. Shirt was huge, dude, like fifty sizes too big, and a white T-shirt underneath. And he was bald."

Pike had seen witnesses have similar explosions of memories when he was an officer. If a witness was given a visual trigger, a memory that had been vague would often snap into focus. Psychologists called these memory cues, and the resulting cascade of recollections were memory chains.

"You remember anything about the second man?"

Jared thought for a moment, but his lips peeled from his teeth in frustrated effort.

"Not really getting him. He was in front, kinda already through the gate. The Cast Man was behind him. I remember black hair. And shades. He might've been wearing shades."

Jared finally ran out of gas.

"Sorry, bro. That's all I got."

Pike could now tie Mendoza to the scene with a picture ID. The second man was almost certainly Gomer, but Mendoza would be enough.

Pike went back to his Jeep to decide on his next play, but knew he would ultimately have to return to b.u.t.ton. b.u.t.ton was the last person to have contact with Smith. Pike wanted to know exactly what Smith said, how he had said it, and when. These things could be crucial, and so could having b.u.t.ton back in the game. The police would increase the pressure on Mendoza, but timing their entry was a trade-off. Once the police reinserted themselves they would block Pike's moves and kill his momentum. He had to cover the primary plays before they came in, and keep himself ahead of the curve.

Pike fished Hector's phone from the box, spent a few seconds figuring it out, then scrolled through the directory. He found Mendoza's number under R MENDOZA, but nothing for GOMER or ALBERTO. No numbers were listed for AZZARA, but he found a number for MIGUEL.

Pike pressed the send b.u.t.ton, heard two rings, and Mikie Azzara answered.

"Don't bother me with c.r.a.p at that body shop."

Answering this way because the caller ID told him it was Hector.

Pike said, "I am here."

Mikie hesitated.

"Who is this?"

"One of your boys wrote it on their wall."

Azzara hesitated again, but this time he recognized Pike's voice.

"How'd you get this phone?"

"I want Mendoza and Gomer."

Azzara lowered his voice, as if he was someplace where he didn't want to be overheard.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mendoza was at their home this morning. Now they're missing."

Azzara cleared his throat. Pike heard something in the background, but couldn't make out what it was. Then Azzara tried to sound rea.s.suring, which left Pike wondering why Azzara wanted to rea.s.sure him.

"Listen, I don't know anything about this, but I will find out. I promise you-you don't have to worry. I'm sure these people are fine."

"You're a liar, Miguel. You told me you covered Mendoza's bond. You didn't. What else are you lying about?"

"Would you listen? I'm in the middle of something now, but I will help you here, homes. Just relax. Kick back, give me a few hours, and-"

"Time's up."

Azzara fell silent. It was several seconds before he spoke again. Then his voice was softer, but not rea.s.suring.

"You are making a mistake. You think you're talking to some pretty-boy Mexican, but you are talking to La Eme La Eme. We are two hundred thousand strong. You should wait like I say. You don't want to go to war with us."

Pike waited him out, letting the pressure of his silence build. When Azzara finally spoke again his voice showed a strain Pike found curious.

"Are we clear on this? Do you get it?"

Pike said nothing.

"Do. You. Get. It?"

"You don't understand."

"What? What don't I understand?"

"War is what I do."

Pike hung up, then called a friend named Elvis Cole.

15.

Experienced investigators referred to the site where an abduction took place as ground zero. It was the intersection where the paths of the victim and perpetrator converged, and merged into one. It was an ambush zone of abrupt furious violence or quiet threat where two paths led in and only one path led out, but these paths weren't made in a vacuum. The physical world was disturbed-a fish rippled the water; a gliding bird cast a shadow. Pike knew this better than most because he spent most of his life trying to move without being heard or seen, or leaving a trail that others could follow. It was difficult. Jared Palmer had seen Reuben Mendoza. This was the first ripple, but Pike knew there would be others. The problem was time. Pike was building a pressure wave and riding it like a surfer shooting the green tunnel. But returning to Smith's house to develop the trail could take hours and would diminish the pressure. The wave would collapse. Pike needed help to maintain the pressure, and believed no one was better at finding and recovering missing persons than his partner, Elvis Cole.

Cole was a licensed private investigator Pike met back in the day when Pike still wore the badge. Not the likeliest of pairings, Pike being so quiet and remote, Cole being one of those people who thought he was funny, but they were more alike than most people knew. Cole was an apprentice then, working for an old-school L.A. d.i.c.k named George Feider to pile up the three thousand hours of experience the state required for a license. When Cole clocked the three-thousandth hour, Feider was ready to retire and Cole wanted to buy his agency. Pike had resigned from LAPD by then, and was making fat cash on military and security contracts. They bought the agency together, though Pike stayed in the background. He preferred it that way. Unheard and unseen.

While Pike waited for Cole to arrive, he phoned Hydeck and Betsy Harmon, hoping he was wrong about their disappearance and that Wilson or Dru had returned their calls or finally showed up at their kitchen. They hadn't, and Betsy Harmon once more complained that no one had cleaned up the mess.

Twenty-five minutes after Pike called Elvis Cole, Cole slid into Pike's Jeep outside a bar on Abbot Kinney, a few short blocks from the ca.n.a.ls. Cole had made good time. If he was in the middle of something when Pike called, he had not mentioned it.

Cole said, "What's going on?"