The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,32
with a Ghost Town address, the other as Juan Rico with a Van Nuys address. Pike returned everything to the wallet, then looked at Hector.
“Mendoza.”
“I don’t know where he is. I tol’ you. How the fuck I’m supposed to know?”
Pike drew the Python and pressed it into Hector’s thigh.
“Show me where he lives.”
Hector directed him to a small flat-roofed bungalow at the edge of Ghost Town near Inglewood. The stucco siding flowered with water damage, but the yard was surprisingly neat. Two stringy palms cast Marks-A-Lot shadows across a Honda Maxima in the drive. Pike cruised past, then parked on the next block with an eyes-forward view of the house.
Pike said, “That his car?”
“His girlfriend. This is her place. He lives with her.”
“What’s her name?”
“Carla Fuentes.”
“Kids?”
“No, but that bitch is tryin’. I tell him he better watch out.”
The house showed no life, but the same was true for most of the surrounding houses. An older woman pruned dusty roses in a yard farther down the street, and a mongrel dog that had probably dug its way to freedom sniffed at a street sign, then burst away at a sprint. Pike would have preferred to watch the house until Mendoza emerged or returned, but felt he didn’t have time. Pike’s nature was to drive the play, and driving the play meant moving forward.
Pike holstered his gun, took the keys from the ignition, then reached under the dash at the base of the steering column. He disconnected the wires that controlled the turn signals and horn, then got out of the car. When he pulled Hector across the seat, Hector looked hopeful.
“You lettin’ me go?”
“No.”
Pike clipped the plasticuffs off Hector’s wrists, but immediately tied his right wrist to the top of the steering wheel and his left to the bottom. He pulled the plasticuffs tight.
“Damn, bro, that cuts.”
Pike closed the door.
“Start screaming, you won’t like how it ends.”
Pike walked directly to Mendoza’s house, then cut down the drive and picked up his pace. The drive led to a detached one-car garage, but Pike broke hard to the side of the house. He stayed low, rising only long enough to glance in each window as he circled the house. He slipped past a screenless back door, then across a small patio. The next two windows were blocked by drawn shades, but he could see into a bathroom and bedroom on the opposite side of the house. Both were empty, but the bathroom allowed a narrow view across a hall into the living room. He saw a TV playing, but not who was watching. There were at least three rooms that Pike could not see into. Mendoza and Gomer could be in any of them, but Pike would not know this until he entered the home.
Pike was still watching the living room when a young woman carried a large bundle past the bathroom. Mendoza’s girlfriend, Carla. She went into the living room, then disappeared as she turned toward the kitchen.
Pike ran to the backyard and reached the corner of the house as the screen door kicked open. Carla Fuentes came out, carrying her bundle to the garage. She wore a thin tank top that was too tight for her bulges, bright purple shorts, and was barefoot. She elbowed open a door on the side of the garage, and went in. Laundry.
Pike waited a five-count to see if anyone would follow her out, then crossed the yard fast. He slipped in behind her as she pushed sheets into a top-loading washer. She didn’t know he was there until he wrapped his arms around her, one hand over her mouth, the other pinning her arms. Her body went stiff with an electric jolt of fear. She was strong. She arched her back, trying to twist away, kicking and stomping his legs. Pike held her close, trapping her, and made his voice calm.
“You’re safe. I want Mendoza.”
She tried to bite him.
“Is Mendoza inside?”
She finally stopped fighting, but her body was rigid. He took his hand from her mouth, but stayed ready to clamp down if she screamed. She didn’t.
“You motherfucker. Who the fuck are you?”
“Is Mendoza inside?”
“Lemme go, you bastard. You the police? Who are you?”
“Yeah, I’m the police. Is Mendoza inside?”
“Ain’t nobody here. I don’t know where that bastard is.”
“Let’s see.”
Pike walked her to the house, keeping her in front of him as he drew his weapon. He let her open the door, but listened hard before they entered. The kitchen smelled of bacon and marijuana.