The Sentry Part 27

Pike took out the picture of Azzara and Mendoza in the car behind Wilson and Dru.

"So I can save these people or find their bodies. Azzara lied to me. He told me he would stop Mendoza. He told me he didn't know what happened to them, but here he is with them and Mendoza. Miguel is going to tell me where they are, Art. He knows."

"No, no more. If I can't make it here, who is going to help these kids? Who will reach out? Go away, Joe-get out."

Pike studied Arturo Alvarez, and knew there was no more to say. Artie was old-school hard despite the college degrees. In his world, toughness wasn't judged by how well you could give a beating, but by how well you took a beating.

"Let me get you to the hospital."

Art turned toward the window.

Pike glanced at Marisol, then walked away. She followed behind him like an angry guard dog, but Pike stopped in the living room and lowered his voice.

"Does he have a fever?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Check. If he has a fever or starts running hot, call me."

"You're a doctor now?"

"See if there's blood in his urine."

"He's been p.i.s.sing blood for two days. I see it when I help him to the bathroom."

"Bright red or pink?"

She glanced toward Art's room, worried.

"Pink, I think. It was red, but now not so much. Is that good?"

"Better than red, but not good. Whatever they broke is healing, but he's still in the weeds."

She crossed her arms again, and her eyes hardened.

"I wish I had been here. I found him the next morning, when it was too late."

"They would have hurt you, too."

The black eyes met his.

"You think? Maybe I would have shot them to death."

The eyes moved back to the hall, but lost none of their heat.

"I would have called the police, but he wouldn't let me. Not even the ambulance. Stupid fool, worried about their trust."

"Talk to him, Marisol."

"About what?"

"I want Miguel."

"What do you think, they send Christmas cards? Art doesn't know where he lives. Maybe where he grew up, but Miguel left us years ago. He is an executive now. He's better than us."

Pike sensed something beyond the disdain in her voice, and noticed a discoloration at the corner of her eye. He looked more closely, and saw the skin on her neck mottled from a trip to the laser, not unlike the fading he had seen on Miguel Azzara.

Pike heard the counselor on the roof. Chipping the tile.

"Were you Malevos Malevos?"

She stood taller, a neighborhood girl who grew up in the gangs.

"A different set, but Trece Trece. Myself and my brother. He was killed."

Maybe I would have taken a gun and shot them to death.

"Do you know Miguel?"

She glanced away, back down the hall toward Artie.

"Once. Not anymore."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Once."

"I need to find him. For my friends, and for Art."

She nodded, but it took her a while to speak.

"Maybe. I know girls who know him. They've been to his fancy new house."

She glanced away, and Pike wondered if one of those girls was her.

Marisol made a call, and a few minutes later Pike had an address. He stopped at the door as he was leaving.

"Watch his temperature. If his temperature climbs, I'll bring a doctor whether he wants one or not."

"He doesn't want to pay. He won't say that, but I know. His money pays for Angel Eyes, and there is never enough. He's always behind."

"Don't worry about the money. I'll pay."

"He won't let you."

"He doesn't have to know."

She crossed her arms again, but it was not as angry as before. Pike listened to the counselor on the roof, chipping the tile, trying to make the roof stronger.

33.

Pike decided Miguel Azzara enjoyed looking at himself. He probably struck poses in front of a mirror, thinking he was way hotter than the male models in GQ GQ or all the young actors playing vampires and werewolves. Had to be, because Mikie Azzara had sunk his teeth so deep into Hollywood glam he moved to the Sunset Strip, about as far from his Ghost Town roots as a homeboy could get. Pike wondered what the or all the young actors playing vampires and werewolves. Had to be, because Mikie Azzara had sunk his teeth so deep into Hollywood glam he moved to the Sunset Strip, about as far from his Ghost Town roots as a homeboy could get. Pike wondered what the veteranos veteranos thought when they found out, battle-scarred old men who ran thought when they found out, battle-scarred old men who ran La Eme La Eme from prison, living and dying the old way in the same neighborhoods for generations. They probably didn't like it much at first, but decided to go along, figuring college-educated young studs like Miguel were the future. from prison, living and dying the old way in the same neighborhoods for generations. They probably didn't like it much at first, but decided to go along, figuring college-educated young studs like Miguel were the future.

Problem was, when Mikie left Ghost Town, he left the homegirls who had given themselves to his charisma and movie-star looks, and replaced them with UCLA coeds, aspiring actresses, and the razor-thin girls who cruised the Strip's clubs. This left more than a few resentful homegirls behind, including Marisol's cousin and best friend, Annabel Reynoso, who had visited the house several times before Miguel cut her off.

Azzara rented a small single-story contemporary home on a cross street south of Sunset behind a stretch of clubs, bars, restaurants, and apartment buildings. Azzara's house was the first house south of an alley that paralleled Sunset Boulevard, on the south side of a cinder-block wall that separated the alley from the home owners who lived beside it. The wall was matted with trumpet vines, and overhung by a spare row of dying ficus trees that lined Azzara's property behind it.

Azzara's street-like all the other residential streets within walking distance of Sunset-was thick with parked cars and sluggish with drivers who blocked traffic as they maneuvered in and out of parking spots. Pike did not want to risk being jammed up and spotted in front of Azzara's house, so he parked on Sunset two blocks away and approached Azzara's street on foot.

When Pike reached the corner and turned toward the house, he saw two guards, so he casually turned back to the corner. Azzara's house was hidden by the wall, but the Monte Carlo was parked at the curb, and Hector was in the Monte Carlo. A second man loitered in the alley's mouth, leaning against the wall. Dru's silver Tercel was behind the Monte Carlo.

Pike crossed the street with a crowd of pedestrians when the light changed, and walked along Sunset to the next street. He figured to approach Azzara's from the rear, but when he turned toward the alley, he stopped again. Two men sat in a Chevy pickup, parked to face the alley. More guards, covering the back of the house.

Pike returned to the first corner, and studied Azzara's street from a position behind a cigar shop. Pike felt a dull but steady ping as if he was about to be hit by an incoming missile, but neither guard acted as if they had seen him.

The wall killed his view of Azzara's house, and he saw no good way to approach without being recognized. Pike knew he could work closer once it got dark, but he didn't want to wait. The Tercel promised that Dru and Wilson were inside and alive. Pike didn't want to risk losing them.

Pike studied the buildings along Sunset, and noticed that the building immediately above Azzara's house was an older, two-story commercial s.p.a.ce with a huge Regency billboard on the roof. The billboard faced Sunset so oncoming drivers saw its ad, but the back of the billboard cast a shadow over Azzara's home.

Sixteen minutes later, Pike climbed a service stair and crawled to the edge of the roof overlooking the alley. The far side of Azzara's roof was visible through the ficus trees, but nothing more.

Pike backed away, and considered the billboard again. Its back was a frame of steel I-beams supported by three enormous legs made of heavy steel pipe. A caged ladder climbed the center leg to a catwalk that extended from one end of the billboard to the other and wrapped around to the front.

Pike climbed to the frame, then edged along the catwalk. He used the billboard for cover until he found the best view, then wedged himself between the I-beams. Pike now saw most of the backyard and the rear of the house, but the yard was all he needed.

Floor-to-ceiling gla.s.s doors along the back of the house looked out at the clean lines of a rectangular swimming pool and patio. Dru Rayne lay on a chaise lounge facing the pool, with oversized sungla.s.ses masking her face. A few feet behind her, Wilson Smith stood with Azzara and three other Latin men, one of whom was the cowboy Pike had seen at the body shop. All five men were laughing. Another cowboy was seated by himself on a deck chair on the other side of the patio, and another was inside on a couch in the living room.

Ping.

Pike stiffened with the feeling, but none of the men shouted or ran.

Ping.

He checked the roof below the billboard, but saw no one. He checked what he could see of the alley and the street in front of Azzara's, but the guards had not seen him.

Pike forced himself to relax. A burly man with a face like a pineapple and hard-time ink came out of the house with a bottle of beer, and Azzara immediately left the circle to make room for the man. Azzara's deference was obvious. He went into the house, and soon returned with three brown bottles. He gave one to an older, squat cowboy, one to Smith, and took the third to Dru. She gave him a very nice smile when she thanked him, and Azzara returned to the others. The congenial host.

No one looked abducted.

Pike felt hollow, like a bubble floating on water. He drifted like the bubble would drift; an emptiness confined by a delicate skin, having no weight or substance. Pike concentrated on the bubble. He forced it to grow smaller until it was gone. The emptiness remained, but could not be seen without its skin. Without the bubble, there was only nothingness, and now Pike felt nothing.

Ping.

The burly man with the ink shook the squat cowboy's hand. They smiled at each other, and laughed again, and related to each other as equals. Pike decided the burly man was a La Eme veterano La Eme veterano of high station, but he wondered about the cowboys. of high station, but he wondered about the cowboys.

It was obvious that Dru and Wilson were where they wanted to be and in no immediate danger. Pike considered calling Straw, b.u.t.ton, and Elvis, but he decided to see what developed.

Twenty-two minutes later, a black stretch limo turned into Azzara's drive. Wilson, the squat cowboy, and the burly man followed Azzara into the house, but Dru and the cowboy who sat by himself remained outside. Pike now had to decide whether to stay with the house or follow the limo, and he had to decide before he knew what Wilson and Dru would do. Reaching his Jeep would take several minutes, so if he was going to follow, he had to leave now. If he waited to see them leave, he would never reach his Jeep until after the limo was gone.

Pike decided to follow.

He spidered back through the girders, and ran hard along Sunset to his Jeep, thinking the limo might already be gone, but when he nosed up to Azzara's street, the tail of the limo was still in Azzara's drive. Pike backed away, parking in a red zone in front of the cigar shop. Five minutes later, the limo backed out and rolled uphill toward him. Pike lowered the visor and slumped down behind the wheel. The limo stopped directly in front of him. Pike could make out the dim shape of the driver, but the dark rear windows hid whoever was in back. When a hole appeared in the traffic, the limo turned. Pike let two cars pa.s.s, then pulled out behind them.

The limo dropped through the city on La Cienega Boulevard, cruising slow and steady the way limos do. Pike followed them down to the I-10 Freeway, then west toward Santa Monica. When they crossed the 405, Pike thought they were heading to Venice, but they dropped off at Bundy and turned onto Ocean Park. Three minutes later, they pulled into the north side of Santa Monica Airport, and Pike was forced to drop farther behind. The limo drove to a gate that rolled aside to let them enter the hangar area, then stopped alongside a white Citation business jet. The jet's door was open, its stair down and waiting.

Pike pulled over to watch.

The limo driver popped out to open the doors, but the people inside didn't wait. Wilson, Miguel Azzara, the burly man, and the squat cowboy climbed out of the stretch. Dru had stayed at the house.

The four men gathered near the jet, and once more shook hands. The cowboy clapped Wilson on the shoulder like they were the best friends in the world, then climbed aboard. He pulled the steps up himself and closed the door as if he had done it a hundred times while the rest of them returned to the limo.

Pike noted the tail number. XB-CCL. The XB prefix meant the plane was registered in Mexico.

Azzara, the burly man, and Wilson stood by the limo as the jet spooled up its engines. Pike could see the pilot and copilot reaching for switches as they went through the start-up procedure. It took several minutes, but Azzara, the burly man, and Wilson waited. When the jet finally taxied away, they waved like flunkies, telling Pike the squat cowboy was a very important man.

Once the jet was gone, the burly man threw his arm around Azzara's shoulders and hugged him as if he had done a good thing. Azzara beamed his movie-star smile, then held the door as the burly man got into the limo.

Pike had seen enough. He made a slow U-turn as he drove away, and phoned Elvis Cole.

34.

Daniel Daniel glanced at the t.u.r.d in the Monte Carlo as he walked past the house, dumb f.u.c.k so stupid he was falling asleep. Daniel loved f.u.c.kin' amateurs, them being so easy to kill, but the bangers had so many people around the house, they were cramping his style.

He continued downhill to the next street, then climbed into his van. Sign on the van was for something called Hero-Rooter-CALL A HERO TO SAVE THE DAY! DRAINS CLEANED AROUND THE CLOCK! Daniel had picked the van because there were no windows in the side panels and the vehicle would blend in anywhere. He had left the driver in a Dumpster behind a Nigerian restaurant in Long Beach.

Tobey was irritated.

"Why're we wastin' time?"

Cleo was annoyed.

"f.u.c.kin' around, around?"

Daniel said, "Shut up. I'm tryin' to think."

Daniel had followed the Mexican and his dumb-a.s.s banger entourage from the airport, so he knew the Mexican was inside with the cook and the waitress. The Bolivians had come through big-time with their tip about the Mexican, but reaching his targets had turned out to be a problem.