The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,52

born eight months ago with a $9600 deposit.

Nothing in the file box named or was related to Dru Rayne. It was as if she didn’t exist at all.

Among the utilities was a monthly phone bill. Pike had given Cole the cell phone numbers for Wilson and Dru, but this number was different. Cole dialed the number, and reached a voice message informing him Wilson’s Takeout Foods was currently closed but was open during the following business hours. The voice was a woman’s, and Cole thought it must be Dru. She had a nice voice.

Cole hung up, staring at nothing. He told himself they were house sitters, which was a temporary arrangement, so most of their possessions were probably in storage or packed in a friend’s garage, but Cole told himself this was bogus even as he formed the thoughts.

Everything about Dru Rayne and Wilson Smith was wrong.

Cole leaned back and stared out the French doors. The French doors opened to a small balcony and, twelve miles beyond, the sea. Cole could see the ocean on a clear day, but today a wall of haze obscured his view. He felt depressed, and wondered how Pike was doing with the police. He did not like knowing this thing about Dru Rayne that Pike did not know. He did not like the expression he had seen on Pike’s face when Pike was shouldering the guilt for whatever trouble the woman was in. Cole had seen that same expression in the mirror too many times.

Cole dialed the takeout shop again to hear her voice. Pleasant, friendly, medium timbre with a hint of a Southern accent. A familiar voice that inspired an ache in his chest. Cole had loved a woman from Louisiana. They had gotten in so deep Lucy moved out with her eight-year-old son. It was a gamble for all of them that didn’t work out, so Lucy and her son returned to Louisiana. This had been Lucy’s call, not Cole’s. Cole would have gone all the way.

When Cole realized he was thinking more about Lucy Chenier than Dru Rayne, he checked the time. Louisiana was two hours ahead. Lucy would be at her office or in court. She was an attorney in private practice with a successful firm in Baton Rouge, and it occurred to Cole she might be able to help. It also occurred to him this was simply an excuse to hear her voice.

A professional voice answered when he called.

“Ms. Chenier’s office.”

“Guess who?”

Loretta Bean’s professional voice melted into warm, Southern comfort. Loretta was Lucy’s assistant.

“You dog. You don’t call here often enough, and I miss your smart mouth.”

“I was falling in lust with you, Loretta. I had to stop calling before I embarrassed myself.”

“The terrible things you say, you should be embarrassed, but I love every minute of it. Would you like Ms. Chenier?”

“In more ways than you know.”

“You awful dog. Hold on and I’ll get her.”

Cole was placed on hold and found himself listening to canned music. Harry Connick, Jr., on the piano. He was on hold so long Harry transitioned to Branford Marsalis before she came on the line.

“Hey, you. Sorry I took so long. I was on with a client.”

Hearing her voice, warmth spread through him despite the twinge of discomfort he felt these days when he called. He tried not to phone her as often as he once did, but that was more for her than him. He didn’t want to push. He didn’t want her to cringe when he called.

“No worries. I bill by the hour.”

She laughed.

“Then I’m happy to help. We here at Rotolo, Fourrier, Day, and Chenier want you to make lots of money.”

“Got a few minutes? I could call back later if now isn’t good.”

The joking in her voice was replaced by a warm contralto that always made him feel they were the only two people in a remote mountain cabin.

“Sure, hon. Hang on—”

She told Loretta not to put anyone through, then returned to their conversation.

“Everything good?”

“I’m looking for background on a woman named Dru Rayne and a man named Wilson Smith, both of whom claim to be from New Orleans.”

“Uh-huh. And why does the word ‘claim’ draw my attention?”

“Joe knows the woman, and I’m not convinced she’s been honest with him about their circumstances or even about who they are.”

“When you say involved, you mean like boyfriend-girlfriend?”

Cole described how Pike saved Wilson Smith from the beating, and subsequently met Dru Rayne. He left out the parts about Latin gangs, abductions, and