The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,11
one drew his attention, but an inner radar slowly pinged with the weight of watching eyes. The young troops Pike knew, fresh back from the desert, called it spider-sense, taking the term from the Spider-Man movies. They told him if you humped the desert long enough you developed a sixth sense that tingled like angry ants when the crosshairs found your skin. Pike had humped jungles, deserts, and pretty much everywhere a man could hump for most of his life, and now he felt the tingle. He turned in a slow three-sixty to clock the storefronts and rooflines and passing cars, but saw nothing. Then the feeling ebbed like a receding tide until it was gone.
The station manager came out of his office when Pike returned to his Jeep. He looked worried.
“You aren’t going to leave it here again, are you? You tied up my pump for more than an hour yesterday.”
“Not today.”
The manager looked relieved.
Pike drove along the alley behind Wilson’s shop, parked beside the Tercel, and let himself in.
Wilson and Dru were in the front room, along with a second young man and the woman in aqua. The tables normally by the window were pushed to the side. Dru stood near them, speaking into her phone as Wilson swept glass onto a piece of cardboard the second kid was using as a dustpan. Wilson had been good at his word when he told the paramedics he wasn’t going to stay at the hospital. A square yellow bandage now covered half of his forehead.
The aqua woman was pleading with Wilson.
“Would you please listen to Dru? You shouldn’t be doing this. Your brain will fall out.”
“Let it. I’ll be out of my misery.”
Pike saw the vandals had done more than shatter the window. A large splash of green paint cut across the floor, and another green smear made a freak rainbow on the wall behind the counter.
Dru saw Pike first. The smile flickered in her eyes, then she held up a finger, telling him she had to finish the call.
Wilson saw him next, and pushed angrily to force the glass onto the cardboard.
“Look at this mess. You see this? I told you, just throw the bastard out, but no—now I’ve got these asshats on a vendetta.”
The aqua woman fluttered at the boy holding the cardboard.
“Ethan, be careful of that glass. Watch you don’t get cut.”
Dru quickly finished the call and came over, gesturing with the phone.
“The glass people. They’ll be here as soon as they can.”
Wilson swept even harder.
“They coming for free?”
Pike was focused on Dru. She had thrown on shorts and a faded T-shirt in her rush to the shop, and now her hair was mussed and her feet were smudged with green. Pike thought the smart eyes seemed worried this morning, but he couldn’t stop looking at her—as if she were a book he wanted to read.
“You okay?”
The smile again, quick and calming, and she moved a step closer.
“I’m fine. Thank you so much for coming. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”
“You should call the police.”
Dru glanced at the aqua woman.
“They’ve already been here. Betsy saw the glass when she got in this morning. She called the police even before she called us.”
The aqua woman introduced herself.
“Betsy Harmon. I have the shop next door. That was quite something, the way you saved Wilson.”
Wilson said, “Nobody saved me. I had it under control.”
Betsy rolled her eyes.
“Just be glad he saved your scrawny butt and you should thank me for calling the police this morning. You’ll need their report for your insurance.”
Wilson made a disgusted snort as he helped Ethan carry the pile of shattered glass on the cardboard to the garbage can.
“There’s no insurance here, lady. We pay as we go, one oyster at a time. I’m not made of money.”
He cocked an eye at Pike.
“You know what that emergency room is gonna cost?”
Wilson appeared to be breathing hard. Pike thought he had probably left the hospital against the doctor’s advice, but here he was, making his place right. Pike liked him for that, and knew he would play it the same way. He turned back to Dru.
“Anything missing?”
“No, the police had us look. They just broke the window and threw in the paint. I don’t think they came inside.”
Wilson said, “It was the same two cops as yesterday, the Mexican gal, what’s her name?”
Dru frowned.
“Officer Hydeck probably wouldn’t appreciate being called a Mexican. Or a gal.”
“She’s supposed to tell the detectives, for all the good that’s gonna