The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,77
giggle echoed in his ear.
“You’re too kind, that’s a good one.”
Cleo joined in.
“Too kind, what an ass potato.”
They sounded like chipmunks.
“Would you two shut up?”
“Up—”
“—up.”
Daniel stared at the mammoth stuck in the sludge, head back, tusks high, like it was begging God to pluck it from the muck. He wondered if the Bolivian was lying about the arrow dude. If the guy was a merc, then maybe the Bolivians had hired the sonofabitch to find Rainey and Platt just like they hired Daniel. Maybe they fed him all the same information, and had given him all the shit they learned from Daniel. These things were possible and made Daniel’s head hurt. Made it hurt bad.
Tobey’s calm voice soothed him.
“Stop it, Daniel.”
Cleo’s gentle echo comforted him.
“Make it stop, stop.”
Daniel concentrated on the mammoth, trying to imagine what it felt like to be boiled in hot tar. Probably not so hot.
Tobey’s laugh boomed like faraway gunshots.
“That’s a good one, Daniel!”
Cleo laughed, too. Like revved-up chainsaws.
“You’re killin’ me, killin’ me!”
Daniel pushed the paranoia aside. Either the Bolivians were fuckin’ him or they weren’t, and they probably weren’t. Even the Bolivians weren’t stupid enough to fuck with a werewolf.
The dude with the arrows had probably heard about the reward, and was working for himself. Daniel was fine with it. Being a mercenary meant the guy was in it for the money, which meant he could always be bought if it came to that, but for all Daniel knew, the dumb asswipe lost Rainey and stopped off for a hamburger. Daniel might never see the tattooed, sunglasses-wearing asscheese again.
Tobey gently chided him.
“Let’s not be stupid.”
“Stupid, stupid.”
The boys were right. If the Bolivians hadn’t fed the arrow dude information, then the guy was fuckin’ good. Way he showed up at the canal, way he popped up on the billboard—this guy was dangerous good.
Daniel picked up the woman’s phone, and looked at her. She was lying back there like she was dead. Daniel liked’m that way.
“Your fuckin’ boyfriend better call soon. I’m gettin’ anxious.”
She didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Just stared at him with these narrow, watchful eyes. Like she was thinking.
Daniel jiggled the phone, and smiled at her.
The deader the better.
38
Both ends of Azzara’s street were blocked by black-and-white radio cars when Button and Futardo arrived. By then, LAPD barriers and yellow crime-scene tape ran from the house to the street, and Hector’s Monte Carlo was hidden by a collapsible screen. Hollywood Station owned the crime scene, but the Malevos Pacificos and Venice Trece belonged to Button.
Button hammered Pike and Cole with questions as they walked through the scene, but Pike wanted him focused on Azzara.
“We believe he returned here from the airport because his car is missing. He drives a black Prius. Get his tag, and put it out to patrol.”
“Did Azzara kill these people?”
Cole said, “We told you who killed them. Azzara probably has Rainey, and one or both of them can probably help find Rose Platt.”
Cole showed them William Rainey’s booking photo.
“I wrote Rainey’s file number on the back. Call the Louisiana Department of Justice. They’ll back up what we’re saying.”
Button’s jaw worked as he stared at the photo, but he handed it to Futardo.
“Call down there and see if you can find someone who knows about this.”
Futardo started away, but Button stopped her.
“Hang on—before you call, pull Azzara’s DMV and give it to the patrol commander. Tell him Azzara is a suspect in a multiple homicide. Tell him I’ll call him as soon as I can.”
She started away again, but he stopped her again.
“Futardo. They give you any shit down in Louisiana, bring me the phone.”
This time he let her go, and turned back to Pike.
“Twelve fucking million dollars, and this guy is making sandwiches in Venice?”
“Po’boys.”
As Futardo left, a Pacific Station gang detective named Eduardo Valenti waved them over to the banger by the coffee table.
“I know this one, too. Bobby Ruiz, aka Lil Rok.”
“One of Azzara’s people?”
“You bet. Born and bred Malevos over by Ghost Town.”
Valenti had already identified the banger by the kitchen island as a Malevos lifer named Trejo Hermanos, who was known as Crazy T.
Pike didn’t care who they were. The entire Los Angeles patrol division would now be looking for Azzara’s Prius, which was what Pike wanted, so now Pike wanted to continue the search himself. If Azzara had Rainey, then finding Azzara would give him Rainey, and Pike wanted Rainey.
Pike left Cole with Button and Valenti, and stepped outside to call Marisol.
“How’s Artie?”
“Hold on—”
She