The Sentry - By Robert Crais Page 0,79

anyway. They might like to hear about Cole’s vision. They also might have an ID on the lunatic who did this.”

Pike said, “Did you ask your men if they remembered anyone?”

“I did. They didn’t.”

Button frowned, suspicious that they’d had a conversation he knew nothing about.

“What are you talking about?”

“A picture of the killer. If he cased the sandwich shop, Straw might have him on video.”

“I’ll have my guys check, but I told you, we only set up on the bangers. Unless this guy cruised the shop when Azzara’s people were there, we won’t have him. And I don’t see how we’ll recognize him even if we have him.”

Pike had been thinking about it, and thought he knew how.

“Elvis has a security video from one of Rainey’s neighbors. Look at both of them. If the same person shows up on both recordings, he’s our guy.”

Button said, “That’s a pretty good idea, Straw. Makes sense.”

Straw turned away to call his guys, and Pike went over to Cole.

“I’m going to look for Dru.”

Cole nodded, telling whoever was on the phone to hold on.

“Where?”

“Venice. I’ll start at the body shop.”

“Okay. I’ll call you if I get anything.”

Pike turned away, then stopped.

“Thanks for not telling me her name is Rose.”

Pike left before Cole could answer.

39

Pike did not think Azzara would go to the body shop, but it was his last best place to start looking. La Eme gangs were families. If Azzara wanted a different car or help getting out of the country, he would go to someone he trusted.

Pike spent thirty-five minutes driving to Venice, and was still five minutes from the body shop when Elvis Cole called.

“Where are you?”

Pike told him where he was going and why.

“Don’t bother. Azzara and Eschuara are dead.”

Pike took his foot off the gas and steered toward the side of the street.

“Rainey?”

“No sign of Rainey. They were found five minutes from here on a side street off Doheny. Shot.”

“The Bolivian?”

“I’m heading there now to take a look, but it sounds like Rainey killed them. They were shot with a large caliber—at least a nine millimeter. The vics at Azzara’s were shot with a twenty-two. Hang on—”

Pike heard a voice in the background that was probably Button, then Cole came back on the phone.

“I guess Rainey and the bangers couldn’t agree on a plan. Looks like he shot them, pushed them out of the car, and took off. There’s no sign of the Prius.”

Pike thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

“Did Button get through to the investigators in Louisiana?”

“Yeah. They’re going to email some things.”

“Do they have the executioner’s picture?”

“Uh-uh. They’re sending what they have, but there isn’t a picture.”

“Keep me advised.”

Pike closed his phone. It had been reasonable to think someone at the body shop would hear from Azzara, but now Azzara was dead, so Pike focused on Rainey. With twelve million dollars, Rainey could have homes, apartments, and cars stashed all over the city. He might even be sailing out of the marina as Pike sat on the side of the street.

Pike thought about how Dru called him, but had been pretending to call Rainey. If she had never reached Rainey, he might not know the Bolivian had her.

Pike dug out Rainey’s cell number and gave it a try. The phone rang once, then immediately went to voice mail. Pike closed his phone, then had a follow-up thought, and dialed Rainey’s number again.

This time when the voice mail answered, Pike left a message.

“He has her.”

Pike left his number, then phoned Cole.

“Is Straw still at Azzara’s?”

“He left before us. He’s going to check their video and compare it to the disk we got from Laine. That was a good idea.”

“He’s doing that now?”

“Yeah. It’s going to take a long time. He wanted to get started.”

Pike decided to offer his help. He drove directly to Straw’s stakeout across from Rainey’s shop. The shop was now busy with police, but Pike ignored them. He went through the tattoo parlor as he had before, and once again climbed the rear stairs.

No one answered when Pike knocked. He knocked harder, then tried the knob and found it unlocked.

The two-room office suite was empty. The bedding and trash bags and gear were gone. Even the black sheet with its rectangular cuts was missing. The shakedown crew had moved on, and taken their video with them.

Pike ran back to his Jeep for Straw’s number, and called.

“Jack Straw.”

“Where are you?”

“Who is—Pike, is that you?”

“What’s going on with the video?”

“I have a man