The Sentry Read Online Free PDF Page B

there?”
    “Where should I be?”
    “Had you met Mr. Mendoza before this morning?”
    Futardo was watching him closely, and Pike realized Button was watching him, too. As if they had been trying to get here from the beginning, and were intent on reading his reaction. They should have been asking about Wilson Smith and Reuben Mendoza, but they were asking Pike about Pike.
    “Where are you going with this?”
    “Wherever. Of all the people in L.A., it’s you over there kicking the shit out of this turd.”
    “Ask Mr. Smith.”
    “I’m asking you. You’re what makes this interesting.”
    “This isn’t about me.”
    “It’s about whatever I say.”
    Pike nodded, and now he understood why a D-3 was running a simple assault investigation. Pike’s voice was quiet as a leaf floating on a pond.
    “We’re finished.”
    “We’re finished when I say we’re finished.”
    Futardo looked scared, and suddenly interrupted to defuse the situation.
    “What happens next is we’ll type up your statement and call about getting together so you can sign it. You’ll have to sign it.”
    Button snapped at her.
    “He knows that. Saddle up. I’ll be along in a minute.”
    Futardo took her pad and the pictures and looked relieved to be going.
    Pike kept his voice soft.
    “What did you tell her about me, make her so scared?”
    “The truth.”
    “You didn’t come here to make a case against Mendoza.”
    “We see a hundred assaults a day. A chickenshit assault case is nothing.”
    “What happened to you? You used to be better than this.”
    Button watched Futardo get into their car, then studied Pike for a moment as he worked out an answer.
    “I am a police officer. I believe in the law, and I have devoted my life to upholding it, but you, Pike, the law is nothing to you. These young cops, they talk about you like you’re some kind of gunfighting legend, but I know you’re shit. I don’t like what happened when you were an officer, or how you’ve gotten away with putting so many people in the dirt since we ran you off the department. You’re dangerous, Pike. There’s something wrong with you, and sooner or later we’ll put you away.”
    Button went to his car, calling over his shoulder.
    “Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.”
    Way it worked for anyone else, Button and Futardo would be trying to find out what really happened in Wilson Smith’s shop, and making sure Mendoza and his accomplice couldn’t hurt Wilson and Dru again. This was the way it would work if Pike were anyone else, but Pike knew it worked differently for him. Button didn’t care about the assault or whether Wilson Smith would be assaulted or robbed again. Button was in it to grind Pike, which meant Wilson and his niece were alone.
    Pike was glad he had given his number to Dru Rayne.

4
    H e hadn’t expected her to call so soon.
    Twenty-two minutes after eight the next morning, Pike was driving to his gun shop when his cell phone rang. He did not recognize the incoming number, but answered anyway.
    “Pike.”
    “They came back. You said to call, and, well, I didn’t know if I should—”
    Dru Rayne.
    Pike glanced at his watch to note the time, then turned toward the sandwich shop, thinking he could make it to her in less than six minutes.
    “Are they at your shop now?”
    He heard voices behind her and pressed the accelerator harder.
    “Ms. Rayne? Are you safe?”
    “They broke the window, and—Yes, I’m all right. I guess it happened last night. Oh, man, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called. Wilson is—I’m sorry, I have to go.”
    Pike eased off the accelerator, but continued to their shop, and once more pulled into the gas station across the street. He left his Jeep, and went to the curb for a better view. The front window was mostly missing, and the front door was now propped open with a black garbage can. A young man with a two-by-four was calmly breaking what was left of the glass from the frame. A woman