The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,68

bring a doctor whether he wants one or not.”

“He doesn’t want to pay. He won’t say that, but I know. His money pays for Angel Eyes, and there is never enough. He’s always behind.”

“Don’t worry about the money. I’ll pay.”

“He won’t let you.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

She crossed her arms again, but it was not as angry as before. Pike listened to the counselor on the roof, chipping the tile, trying to make the roof stronger.

33

Pike decided Miguel Azzara enjoyed looking at himself. He probably struck poses in front of a mirror, thinking he was way hotter than the male models in GQ or all the young actors playing vampires and werewolves. Had to be, because Mikie Azzara had sunk his teeth so deep into Hollywood glam he moved to the Sunset Strip, about as far from his Ghost Town roots as a homeboy could get. Pike wondered what the veteranos thought when they found out, battle-scarred old men who ran La Eme from prison, living and dying the old way in the same neighborhoods for generations. They probably didn’t like it much at first, but decided to go along, figuring college-educated young studs like Miguel were the future.

Problem was, when Mikie left Ghost Town, he left the homegirls who had given themselves to his charisma and movie-star looks, and replaced them with UCLA coeds, aspiring actresses, and the razor-thin girls who cruised the Strip’s clubs. This left more than a few resentful homegirls behind, including Marisol’s cousin and best friend, Annabel Reynoso, who had visited the house several times before Miguel cut her off.

Azzara rented a small single-story contemporary home on a cross street south of Sunset behind a stretch of clubs, bars, restaurants, and apartment buildings. Azzara’s house was the first house south of an alley that paralleled Sunset Boulevard, on the south side of a cinder-block wall that separated the alley from the home owners who lived beside it. The wall was matted with trumpet vines, and overhung by a spare row of dying ficus trees that lined Azzara’s property behind it.

Azzara’s street—like all the other residential streets within walking distance of Sunset—was thick with parked cars and sluggish with drivers who blocked traffic as they maneuvered in and out of parking spots. Pike did not want to risk being jammed up and spotted in front of Azzara’s house, so he parked on Sunset two blocks away and approached Azzara’s street on foot.

When Pike reached the corner and turned toward the house, he saw two guards, so he casually turned back to the corner. Azzara’s house was hidden by the wall, but the Monte Carlo was parked at the curb, and Hector was in the Monte Carlo. A second man loitered in the alley’s mouth, leaning against the wall. Dru’s silver Tercel was behind the Monte Carlo.

Pike crossed the street with a crowd of pedestrians when the light changed, and walked along Sunset to the next street. He figured to approach Azzara’s from the rear, but when he turned toward the alley, he stopped again. Two men sat in a Chevy pickup, parked to face the alley. More guards, covering the back of the house.

Pike returned to the first corner, and studied Azzara’s street from a position behind a cigar shop. Pike felt a dull but steady ping as if he was about to be hit by an incoming missile, but neither guard acted as if they had seen him.

The wall killed his view of Azzara’s house, and he saw no good way to approach without being recognized. Pike knew he could work closer once it got dark, but he didn’t want to wait. The Tercel promised that Dru and Wilson were inside and alive. Pike didn’t want to risk losing them.

Pike studied the buildings along Sunset, and noticed that the building immediately above Azzara’s house was an older, two-story commercial space with a huge Regency billboard on the roof. The billboard faced Sunset so oncoming drivers saw its ad, but the back of the billboard cast a shadow over Azzara’s home.

Sixteen minutes later, Pike climbed a service stair and crawled to the edge of the roof overlooking the alley. The far side of Azzara’s roof was visible through the ficus trees, but nothing more.

Pike backed away, and considered the billboard again. Its back was a frame of steel I-beams supported by three enormous legs made of heavy steel pipe. A caged ladder climbed the center leg to a catwalk that extended from one end of the