Pike heard the television, but no living voices or movement. He whispered in her ear.
“Slow.”
As they stepped inside, the girl suddenly called out.
“Loo-cee, I hoannn!”
Pike gripped her tighter, but she barked out a laugh.
“Homes, he ain’t here. You gotta relax.”
Pike walked her into the living room first. A large glass hash pipe sat on a coffee table opposite the television as if it were watching. He pushed her through the living room to the hall, then through the rest of the house. He checked the closets, the bathtub, and under the beds. He didn’t release her until they were back in the kitchen, where he pulled a chair from the table and told her to sit.
“Fuck you, you bitch. I ain’t gotta sit in my own fuckin’ house.”
“Sit, or I’ll make you.”
Pike saw a fading bruise high on her left cheek as Carla Fuentes looked him over. Her eyes held on his tattoos as if seeing something familiar, and then she sat.
“You ain’t five-oh. You’re the dude broke his arm.”
“Where is he?”
“You find him, you tell me. I hope you kicked his ass good.”
Pike circled the kitchen, looking for something that would give him leverage over the girlfriend or help him find Mendoza.
“If you know about me, it means you’ve seen him.”
“Bullshit it does. Means he called when they were processing him. Said he would be home last night, but that bitch never showed. I got stress in my life.”
Pike found a pink cell phone on the counter by a pack of cigarettes. He opened it, and scrolled through the directory.
“Was he here this morning?”
“You listenin’ to me? I got no call, no nothing, so fuck him and fuck you. I signed off this house to guarantee that bond. That bitch runs off, I’m losing my home.”
Pike glanced over. Azzara had told him he covered Mendoza’s bond, but now the girlfriend was telling a different story. Pike believed the girl. Her eyes were red and the corners of her mouth were dimpled with tension. The bond on Mendoza’s assault wouldn’t have been more than fifty thousand dollars, and would likely be less. The bondsman was ripping her off.
Pike returned to the phone and found a speed-dial listing for REUBEN. He memorized the number, then held out the phone.
“Call him. Let’s see where he is.”
“He ain’t gonna answer. I been callin’ all day.”
Pike checked the outgoing call list, and saw she was telling the truth. Mendoza’s number had been dialed fourteen consecutive times. Pike dialed the number again. Mendoza’s phone immediately went to voice mail, so Pike killed the call.
“He tell you what he was doing when I broke his arm?”
“Said you were fighting. Said he was gonna fuck you up real good, he catch you again.”
“Is he looking for me?”
“Said he was, but seein’ you now, that was just him spinnin’ shit.”
Pike wondered if this meant the harassment toward Wilson was directed at him. Hurting Wilson and Dru to get back at Pike. He put the phone with the cigarettes, then stood in front of her.
“Is that why he wasn’t going to be home until last night, he was looking for me?”
“That was just mouth. He said he had business.”
“Business like what?”
“He hadda go help some friends. Thass what he says when it’s Trece.”
“Gang business?”
“Thass what it means, helpin’ some friends. He was callin’ from jail, homes, the Sheriffs right there, you can’t just say what you’re sayin’. He said he hadda help some friends, and tol’ me he would be home, only he never showed up and he ain’t callin’ back, and now I got you in my house. I signed off my home for that fuckin’ bitch, and for all I know he jumped bail and left.”
Pike believed she didn’t know anything more, but he still didn’t have anything that would help him find Mendoza.
“Where else does he stay when he’s not here with you?”
“This is his home. I let him move in here. We’re gonna get married.”
“What kind of car does he drive?”
“An eighty-six El Camino. It’s brown. Like a turd.”
“Where does he keep his paperwork? Car registration, bills, things like that.”
Pike followed her back to the bedroom where she pulled a cardboard shoe box from the top drawer of a scarred and faded cabinet. It contained a few family photos, birth information, and miscellaneous warranties and receipts. Pike found the bill of sale and registration information for the El Camino along with the tag and VIN numbers. He didn’t waste time copying the numbers. He tucked