The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,74

for years.”

“Do you know who he is?”

“All I know is what I’ve told you. He’s their go-to executioner.”

“Executioner.”

“That’s how my guy described him before he shut down. An executioner. What else you gonna call an animal who racks up nine killings?”

Terry corrected himself.

“Eleven.”

Nobody spoke for a moment, then Terry remembered something.

“Wait, I guess there is something else. All these people he’s killed have been connected to Rainey or Platt—someone in the family, someone they worked with, someone who might know how to find them. He’s been eating his way through their friends and family. Like with Tolliver James.”

A silence settled between the three of them that no one seemed anxious to fill.

Finally, Cole said, “If the FBI comes back to you, give them my name.”

Lucy said, “Are you sure? We can delay this or stall it. I don’t want you in jeopardy.”

Cole smiled, and for the first time during the call felt a flush of comfort.

“You’re the best, Lucille.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yes, you are, but give them my name. Terry, I appreciate this, man, but if they call, put them on me. We’ll have to bring in the locals here anyway. They need to know this.”

Cole told Lucy he would call later, then printed the new pictures of Wilson and Dru. Cole corrected himself. William Rainey and Rose Platt.

Cole said, “It just keeps getting better.”

He heard Pike pull up outside as the second picture emerged from the printer, and met him in the kitchen. Cole thought Pike looked tired, his gaunt face hollow and lined behind the gleaming dark glasses. Pike drank an entire bottle of water before he came up for air.

Cole said, “How long have you been awake?”

“I’m good.”

Cole figured he was going on forty-eight hours.

“Grab something to eat.”

“I’m good to go.”

“Okay, we finally have something. Lucy found out who they are. It isn’t good news.”

Pike leaned against the counter as Cole went through it, arms crossed, as still as a hardwood statue. Pike only moved once as Cole related the information.

He said, “The names.”

Cole didn’t understand, and asked what Pike meant.

“Rainey. Rayne. You think she picked her name because it was so close to his? Maybe he picked it for her.”

Cole stared at Pike, but quickly pushed on to soothe his own aching heart.

“What do you want to do?”

“Call the police.”

“Good. I think that’s the right call. You have Button’s number?”

Pike reached into his pocket for his phone, but it buzzed with an incoming call before he got it out. The phone buzzed again as Pike studied the Caller ID, and Cole wondered why Pike was staring. Pike looked up on the third buzz.

“It’s Dru.”

Pike opened the phone and answered.

Par Five

THE SENTRY

sentry n; a soldier standing guard at a point of passage.

—Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary

36

She had not used her phone in three days, but there was her name, DRU, in the phone’s tiny window. That was how he had stored her number in the memory.

Pike opened the phone with delicate care, and answered the same way, thinking it might be Smith or Azzara or one of Azzara’s thugs playing around. He stared at Cole as he answered.

“Yes?”

“Willieyouhavetogivehimthemoneypleasegiveittohimhehasmeandhe’s—”

The words exploded out of her, but then she was gone, as if her call had been chopped by a headsman’s ax.

Cole moved closer.

“Was it her?”

Pike wondered if this was real or another incomprehensible lie.

“Talk to me, Joseph. What did she say?”

“I don’t know.”

Pike held up a finger, saying wait as he dialed her back, but his call went straight to her voice mail.

“What did she say?”

“She called me Willie. Like she was talking to Rainey. She begged Rainey to give him the money. She said he has her. That’s it.”

“Who has her, the executioner?”

“That’s how it sounded.”

Pike replayed her call in his head, her voice as tight as breaking wire. She sounded authentic, but she could have made the call from Azzara’s pool, surrounded by cowboy spectators who cheered her acting ability.

Cole said, “Let’s call Button. We have to call him anyway.”

Pike was already on his way out.

“Dru doesn’t know we found them. Let’s see if she’s still at Azzara’s.”

“Rose.”

Pike stopped at the door, not understanding.

Cole said, “It’s Rose. Not Dru.”

“If her call was real, then he has her—let’s check Azzara’s. We can call Button when we know.”

Cole didn’t look confident, but they went in Pike’s Jeep, pushing hard down Laurel Canyon to Sunset, then west to Azzara’s. Pike described the layout of the house and the position of the guards as they drove. He nailed a parking spot a block from