failure. He had lost control of the moment, and Pike did not like losing control.
She said, “Are we okay?”
“We’re fine. I overreacted.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t look like the overreacting type.”
He followed her to her car, the silver Tercel parked directly behind the sandwich shop.
“Want me to come in with you?”
“I’ve done all I can with this place, believe me. I have to see about Wilson.”
Pike nodded, the two of them facing each other, neither of them moving to leave.
“Listen. Thanks. I mean it. I know I keep saying it, but thanks.”
“Can I see you again?”
Her smile returned.
He said, “A date.”
She smiled wider, but the smile vanished in what Pike read as a wave of uncertainty.
He said, “What?”
She pulled a slim billfold from her pocket, flipped through a card carrier, and showed him a picture of a little girl. The girl wore a fluffy dress and stood beside a green couch.
“This is Amy. My sister’s taking care of her until we know whether or not I can make it out here.”
Pike said, “Pretty.”
“Love of my life. She’s three now.”
Dru stared at the picture a moment, then slipped the billfold back into her pocket. She looked at Pike, then glanced away with a shrug.
“I dunno—I guess I just wanted you to know.”
Pike nodded, sensing she was afraid he would not want to get involved with a woman who had a child. He asked her again.
“Are you going out with me or not?”
Her white smile flashed again. She dug out her cell phone and asked for his number. Pike told her, and watched as she sent him a text.
“This is my number. Call me. I’d love to go out with you. On a real date.”
She put her cell phone away, then went up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. Pike cupped the small of her back as her body pressed into his. Pike was moved. She had given him a secret piece of herself when she told him about the child, and now, when she stepped back, he felt compelled to do the same.
“What Button said—Button doesn’t know anything about me.”
Pike fell silent, thinking how best to explain about the way he had lived his life and the choices he had made. Rescuing a businessman’s family from Nicaraguan narco-terrorists. Stopping the bandits who looted farms and villages in Central Africa. Pike had chosen his jobs as a military contractor carefully, and speaking about them now seemed pretentious and self-serving. He finally gave up.
“I tried to help people. I’m good at it.”
Pike couldn’t think of anything else to say. He let it go at that, and felt embarrassed for bringing it up.
Then Dru laid her palm on his chest, and it felt like she touched his heart.
“I’ll bet you are.”
She climbed into her car, then looked up at him.
“Do you ever take off those sunglasses?”
Pike took off his sunglasses. The light made him squint, but he fought it to let her see.
She studied his eyes for a moment.
“Good. Very good.”
She started her car and gave him a parting smile.
“If you’re going to be dangerous, you might as well be dangerous for me.”
Pike watched her drive away, then scanned the length of the alley. Nothing.
He put on the sunglasses, then walked around the end of the building and returned to his Jeep. Reaching the door, he saw what looked like a flyer wedged under the windshield wiper. Closer, he saw it was not a flyer, but a folded piece of paper. Pike clocked the surroundings again, and now his inner radar pinged with the weight of eyes.
He lifted out the paper and unfolded it.
GREEN MALIBU
FOUR SPOTS AHEAD
Pike saw the green Malibu parked four spots ahead just as the man in the orange shirt stepped from the secondhand clothing store. The man pointed a thumb at the Malibu. Jerry Button pushed out of the passenger door. A second man got out of the driver’s door. He was all hard angles and edges, like a mirror that had been broken and taped back together. He looked impatient, and studied Pike with thoughtful eyes as they walked over.
Button said, “This is Joe Pike. Pike, this is Jack Straw. He’s with the FBI.”
Straw said, “You’re screwing me up, brother. That has to stop.”
8
The man in the orange shirt walked away when Button and Straw got out of the car. He did not look at them or Pike again.
Button said, “Let’s take a ride. Better if we’re not seen.”
The Malibu was a brand-new rental, but smelled of cigarettes.