Robert Crais - The sentry

Button wondered what the guy was up to, pretending to be a federal agent, but figured it probably had something to do with Rainey's money.

Button turned into the lot and pulled up by Straw with the passenger door on the far side of the car.

Straw started around to the passenger side, but Button stopped him.

"Hang on a sec. I gotta give you a vest before we split. It's in the trunk."

Straw hesitated as Button climbed out.

"I don't need a vest."

"LAPD rules, man. I know it's stupid."

Button held up his hands to measure Straw's shoulders, and grinned as if he was making a joke.

"It's one size fits all, but it oughta do. I hope it doesn't have too many bullet holes in it."

The business with measuring Straw's shoulders let Button get close. He grabbed Straw's wrist, twisted his arm behind his back, and shoved him against the car.

"Stay there. Stay on the car."

Button cuffed his right wrist, then hooked up the left. When the fake Straw was secure, Button stepped back and checked him for a weapon.

"Stay on the car, fucker. You're under arrest. Do not turn around."

"What is this, Button? What are you doing?"

"Jack Straw, my ass. I know you're not Jack fuckin' Straw. I just spoke to the sonofabitch."

Detective Jerry Button glimpsed movement between two nearby cars, but did not see the man in time even when a blowing horn drew his attention. It sounded like a long, anguished wail.

Something hard punched him twice, so hard he staggered, which was when Kenny shot him again. Button fell to a knee, fumbling for the Snubbie as a tan Crown Victoria banged through oncoming traffic, spraying firefly sparks as it jumped the curb into the parking lot. Button saw Futardo, those black chocolate eyes all big in her head, coming to save him.

Button said, "No, honey-"

Kenny shot her through the windshield, then quickly walked to her window and shot her again.

Button had the Snubbie by then, but the fake Jack Straw was shouting.

"Button! Get Button!"

Button got off one round, then Kenny shot him again, hit him so hard it felt like being speared with a javelin, and the Snubbie fell free.

Straw said, "Get his key. Get me out of these things."

Kenny snatched up his gun and rolled Button onto his back as he searched for the keys.

The sun was so goddamned bright and right in his eyes, but they were over him, Kenny uncuffing Straw.

Button said, "Pieces of shit."

Straw glanced down, letting Button see the fear in his eyes.

"They know, man. We're done."

"Don't panic. We're close."

"We gotta go. We're fucked."

"No, we're not-"

Kenny pointed the gun straight down, blocking the sun, and Button stared into the tight black sphincter of its barrel.

"Fuck you."

Then a gun went off, and Button thought he was dead, but Kenny staggered sideways and fell. His falling gun hit Button on the nose.

Button saw Futardo, face dripping red, leaning out her window as she struggled to fire again.

The fake Jack Straw calmly picked up Kenny's weapon, and shot her twice more through the glass.

Button tried to grab the man's legs, but his arms wouldn't move. He tried to shout for help, but all he managed was a bubbly grunt.

Then the fake Straw looked down at him again, aimed his weapon, and fired.

This is Bill Rainey. You know me as Wilson Smith."

Pike cranked the Jeep, ready to roll.

"I know who you are. Where is she?"

"I need your help."

"Where is she?"

"You really know who I am?"

"William Allan Rainey. Her name is Rose Platt. Where is she?"

"I dunno."

"Is she alive?"

"Yeah, I guess, but he'll kill her."

Rainey hiccupped, but Pike realized it was a sob. Rainey was crying.

"Don't guess. Do you know if she's alive?"

"Are the police on me?"

"Yes."

"Fuck!"

"Is she alive?"

"Jesus FUCK!"

Pike gave Rainey ten seconds of silence. Rainey was coming apart, but Pike needed him to calm down and think.

"You want me to call you Bill or Wilson?"

"I don't give a shit. Whatever. He has her."

"What does he look like?"

"I dunno. All these years, and I've never seen him. We've been runnin', man. He killed Rose's old boyfriend. He got my sister, my ex-wife-Jesus, he keeps coming."

"Why me?"

"What?"

"Why did you call me?"

Now Rainey was silent, but the silence was good. The silence meant he was thinking.

"I can't call the police."

"Call them."

"I can't. You see what these Bolivians are like? How long would I last in prison? How long would she? I call the police now, it's killin' both of us later."

Pike gave him more silence, so Rainey filled it.

"You're a mercenary, right? I'll pay you."

"Twelve million dollars?"

Rainey laughed.

"Who told you that, the police? Is that what they think I got?"

"Yes."

"They're full of shit. It was eight-point-two."

"All right. You'll pay me eight-point-two?"

"It's gone. I'll give you everything I have left. Three hundred forty-two thousand and change."

"Don't want it."

"Cash. Tax free. It's yours."

"Don't want it."

Rainey fell into a deeper silence.

"I can't do it myself. I dunno. I had to ask."

"Why'd you kill Azzara and Eschuara?"

"Hell, you do know it all."

"I saw you at Azzara's. I followed you to the jet."

"She was right about you."

Pike wondered what he meant, but kept pressing forward.

"Why'd you kill them? They wouldn't help?"

"They wanted me to leave. They were taking me to Mexico or some bullshit like that. I couldn't leave without her. I love her, man."

Pike took a slow breath. Rainey was calm and controlled now, comfortable with the talking, so Pike asked again.

"Do you know for sure that she is alive?"

"She was alive as of, lessee, sixteen minutes ago. That's when she left the last message."

Pike checked the time. It was 4:22 P.M.

"She's leaving messages?"

"I guess he doesn't want me to know what he sounds like. I don't answer the damned phone, man. I'm scared to. This is the only way I can stall him. He doesn't know if I'm getting the messages or not. But I gotta call soon-"

"Why?"

"She said I gotta call at six. He must be gettin' pissed off, not being able to reach me. I don't call at six, she says he'll kill her."

One hour, thirty-eight minutes away.

"If you call at six, what will happen?"

"He'll probably tell me what he wants."

Pike went through the call he received when Dru pretended she was talking to Rainey. She had begged Rainey to give up the money.

"He wants the money."

"He'll say he wants it, but that's bullshit. The Bolivians want us dead. That's all they care about."

Pike checked the time. One hour, thirty-seven minutes away.

"How many messages has she left?"

"Three. She's called three times."

"You have them?"

"Yeah."

Pike wanted to hear her voice.

"Where are you?"

"Ah, right now? I'm in Hollywood. I'm behind a restaurant here, what is it, Musso and Frank?"

Pike thought he understood how the killer would play it, and began to develop a plan. He calced the drive time between where he was now and where he wanted to be, then told William Allan Rainey where to meet him at exactly 5:30. This would give Pike time to pick up a few things and call Elvis Cole. When they moved, they would have to move fast. They had to be ready.

Rainey said, "You're gonna help?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to do?"

"Sell you."

Sixty-two minutes later, Pike slid out of his Jeep when Rainey got out of the Prius. They were in the parking lot behind a diner on Sunset Boulevard, trapped between a reinforced hillside and the restaurant, not five minutes from Miguel Azzara's house.