The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,43

on the second ring, his voice soft, but completely alert.

“What’s up?”

Pike spoke in a whisper.

“You leave a light on in the top bedroom at Dru’s?”

“A light?”

“I’m outside the house. The upstairs bedroom is lit.”

“I was up there. I don’t remember turning on a light, but I don’t remember not turning it on, either. I don’t know.”

“Mm.”

“You think someone’s in there now?”

“Just wondering about the light.”

“You going inside?”

“Yes.”

“The spare key I found, it’s behind the fence next to the gatepost. Not the one next to the house. The other side.”

“Anything on your end?”

“Lights out, game over. She’s in a coma.”

“Okay.”

“Listen. Call me when you leave there, okay? You don’t call, I’m gonna come over there expecting to save you, then I’ll miss Mendoza.”

Pike put away the phone. He breathed in the air and the street and the scent of the sea, listening, but heard only ambient noise. He stepped into the shadows near the gate, then lifted himself over and dropped silently into the courtyard. He paused to listen, then felt for the key.

He used a full minute to ease the key into the lock, another minute to turn the knob, and two full minutes to open the door. The entry was dark, fielding only a dim glow that escaped from above. Pike strained to catch sounds from the house, but heard nothing. Only then did he close the door.

Pike moved through the house without turning on lights, and avoided the windows. The big windows allowed enough ambient light for him to see that nothing was disturbed. Everything was as he remembered and as Cole described.

He reached the top bedroom, but did not enter. A nightstand lamp was on. Pike thought back to his fast trip through the house that morning, but didn’t remember the lamp. It was a small lamp. During the day, its light could have been swallowed by the sun, which explained why he and Cole didn’t remember it, but Pike didn’t like not knowing. The lamp was a problem.

Pike backed away, let himself out, locked the door, and replaced the key by the fence. He stood in the courtyard for another moment, listening, then slipped through the shadows alongside Dru’s house until he reached the edge of the canal.

He wondered where Dru and Wilson were, and if they were all right. He wanted to believe they were, but he knew this was unlikely. He heard a distant barking again, and wondered if it was a sea lion out past the locks.

Pike studied the houses across the canal, and the far bridge where he had just been standing. Needle feet crept up his back along with the words in Wilson’s shop.

I am here.

Pike stepped backward into the shadows. He slowed his breathing, and silenced his body to listen. He searched the far bank for reflections and movement. The water lapped. Lights bounced on its obsidian surface. Pike wondered if predators swam this far inland. He wondered if they hid beneath the surface.

20

Daniel

Daniel watched him cross the bridge, tall dude out for a run in the middle of the night, dark glasses tight across his eyes, these L.A. people, what’s up with that? Probably used sunblock, too.

Cleo whispered, “Shh. He’ll hear you thinking.”

Tobey hissed, “Shh. Hear your brain.”

Like water snakes in the weeds.

Daniel said, “Please be quiet. Doesn’t the water feel good?”

“Cold.”

“Cold.”

Their voices echoed to silence.

Daniel was submerged to his nose in shallow water, hidden beneath a wooden dock on the opposite side of the canal. Daniel, Cleo, and Tobey, watching.

Tall dude left the bridge, scuffed whisper on the street, passed through a column of blue light, cut hard with muscles and what’s that on his arms? Squint. Focus. See. These big red arrows, glowing like embers in the blue-purple light. Daniel thought they were cool.

When the man was gone, Daniel pushed along the muddy bottom, moving to deeper water as he pulled his load with him, so slow the water did not ripple, enjoying the kiss of tiny fish on his skin. Heading toward the bridge.

After a while, he slid beneath the arch, then turned toward the house, keeping the load tucked in close as he floated in the shadows. Daniel had watched the house since midday, and his care had paid off twice. Others had appeared to watch the house, too, and now he knew they had been watching for him. He took this as an excellent sign, and proof that he was close.

“Can you feel it, boys? We are so close I can feel it.”

“So close