Robert Crais - The sentry

"What Button said-Button doesn't know anything about me."

Pike fell silent, thinking how best to explain about the way he had lived his life and the choices he had made. Rescuing a businessman's family from Nicaraguan narco-terrorists. Stopping the bandits who looted farms and villages in Central Africa. Pike had chosen his jobs as a military contractor carefully, and speaking about them now seemed pretentious and self-serving. He finally gave up.

"I tried to help people. I'm good at it."

Pike couldn't think of anything else to say. He let it go at that, and felt embarrassed for bringing it up.

Then Dru laid her palm on his chest, and it felt like she touched his heart.

"I'll bet you are."

She climbed into her car, then looked up at him.

"Do you ever take off those sunglasses?"

Pike took off his sunglasses. The light made him squint, but he fought it to let her see.

She studied his eyes for a moment.

"Good. Very good."

She started her car and gave him a parting smile.

"If you're going to be dangerous, you might as well be dangerous for me."

Pike watched her drive away, then scanned the length of the alley. Nothing.

He put on the sunglasses, then walked around the end of the building and returned to his Jeep. Reaching the door, he saw what looked like a flyer wedged under the windshield wiper. Closer, he saw it was not a flyer, but a folded piece of paper. Pike clocked the surroundings again, and now his inner radar pinged with the weight of eyes.

He lifted out the paper and unfolded it.

GREEN MALIBU

FOUR SPOTS AHEAD

Pike saw the green Malibu parked four spots ahead just as the man in the orange shirt stepped from the secondhand clothing store. The man pointed a thumb at the Malibu. Jerry Button pushed out of the passenger door. A second man got out of the driver's door. He was all hard angles and edges, like a mirror that had been broken and taped back together. He looked impatient, and studied Pike with thoughtful eyes as they walked over.

Button said, "This is Joe Pike. Pike, this is Jack Straw. He's with the FBI."

Straw said, "You're screwing me up, brother. That has to stop."

The man in the orange shirt walked away when Button and Straw got out of the car. He did not look at them or Pike again.

Button said, "Let's take a ride. Better if we're not seen."

The Malibu was a brand-new rental, but smelled of cigarettes. Pike sat in back, with Straw behind the wheel and Button in the shotgun seat. Button twisted to see Pike as they pulled from the curb. He looked as if he had hoped never to see Pike again, but here they were, and now he was irritated.

"That business between you and me, we have to forget that now, okay? Special Agent Straw is out of the Houston Field Office. Turns out he has an investigation running, and we've stepped into the middle of it, thanks to you."

Pike looked into the mirror and found Straw watching him.

"The man in the orange shirt."

"I'm going to tell you some things I'd rather not, but I can't divulge where I have people placed. You understand why?"

"We'll see."

"Okay. Hang on, and let me get pulled over. Easier to talk."

Straw drove three short blocks inland and parked behind a row of upscale beachwear shops. The moment they stopped, he rolled down his window and lit a Marlboro. Pike and Button rolled down their windows, too.

Straw turned to face Pike, and showed his credentials. Special Agent R. Jack Straw. Federal Bureau of Investigation.

"Okay?"

Pike nodded, wondering what this was about.

Straw tucked away his badge case and considered Pike through the smoke.

"What did you think of Mikie Azzara?"

Pike was surprised, though he showed no expression.

Straw read his silence anyway, and smiled.

"Not your traditional Mexican Mafioso, is he, all sleeved-out and nasty? He's the new generation, and we're all over him-"

Straw checked his watch.

"-which is how I know you met with him two hours ago at the Starbucks on Abbot Kinney. After which you hooked up with Ms. Rayne and went to the Sidewalk Cafe. They make a good pizza. My favorite meal since I've been here."

Straw craned his head to geyser more smoke out the window, then glanced at Button.

"My new best friend here, Detective Button, he thinks this conversation is a mistake."

Button stared out the window.

"It is. You're going to regret it."

"I don't think so, but either way I need your help, Mr. Pike, so here we are. Ms. Rayne tell you what's going on?"

"What would she have told me?"

"The two carnales you bounced, Mendoza and Gomer? This wasn't the first time they've been to see her uncle, and they didn't kick the shit out of him over a sandwich-they were sending a message."

Button nodded along.

"It's what you and I talked about, Pike. Smith lied. Those pricks were shaking him down."

Straw had more of the cigarette. He looked fit enough, but Pike thought the man probably couldn't run twenty feet.

"Mikie's spooling up a protection racket-pay the man or get your ass kicked, we'll break your window, steal your truck, whatever. It's a street-level thing, small-time, but it's only one of a number of new scams he's running. Underline new. These guys are making it up as they go."

Button shifted in his seat, glancing at Pike but talking to Straw.

"The girl may not know. Smith probably doesn't want her worried about it. He'd be up shit creek if she walked out on him."

Pike said, "What does this have to do with me?"

Straw had more of the cigarette.

"You just scared Mikie off, and that's bad. We're clocking his business."

Pike cocked his head.

"The FBI rolled out for a neighborhood protection scam?"

Straw smiled again.

"I wouldn't give two shits and a cup of coffee about this, but the new jefes like Azzara, they aren't content to deal tar like their daddies. La Eme is entering the modern age, Mr. Pike. They're trying new business models, and this shakedown thing is just one piece. They're also developing international ties with several cartels, and that interests me very much. Hence, my operation and this conversation."

Pike glanced at Button.

"You didn't know?"

"Not until this morning."

Straw finished his cigarette, and flicked it over his shoulder.

"With apologies to Detective Button, we didn't have boots on the ground two weeks ago. When we learned about Mikie's new venture, we decided this was our way into La Eme's new food chain. It's happening fast."

Pike said, "Through a neighborhood shakedown."

Straw shrugged.

"It's down at the street level, we can reach it, and it's easy. Easy means fast. New boys like Azzara are popping up in Eme sets from Brownsville to Phoenix to San Diego, and we don't even know who they are. If we can get inside Mikie's set, we can find out, which is what we were doing until you got in the way."

Straw shifted again, and looked apologetic.

"Brother, listen, you did the right thing. If I saw those two clowns stomping some poor guy, I'd weigh in, too. I respect that. But now it's over, and I need things to go back to the way they were."

Pike said, "Meaning what?"

Button shifted angrily.

"He wants you to mind your own fucking business. What don't you get about that?"

Straw raised a hand, telling Button to take it easy.

"I'm asking you to cool it. Stay away from Smith and let him go back to being Smith. Don't be his personal sentry. Let Azzara be Azzara."

Pike saw what Straw wanted, and didn't like it.

"Azzara being Azzara means he puts the pressure on Smith. Mendoza and Gomer will be free to lean on him."

"I need the little men, so I can trade for the big men. This means I need the little men out doing crime so I can jam them. If I jam them up bad, I can use them as informants."