The Watchman Read Free Page B

checked the heels of her shoes, then looked at her belt and the metal buttons that held her jeans. She drew a deep breath as he pulled off her belt.
    She said, “Like that?”
    Pike ignored her smile. It was nasty and perfect.
    “Want me to take off my pants?”
    Pike turned to her duffel, and she laughed.
    “You are such a freak. These are my things. They haven’t been out of my sight since I went with the marshals, you freak! Why don’t you
say something
? Why don’t you
talk to me
?”
    Pike didn’t believe he would find anything, but he had to check, so he did, ignoring her. Pike had learned this with the Marines—the one time a man didn’t clean his rifle, that’s when it jammed; the one time you didn’t tape down a buckle or secure your gear, the noise it made got you killed.
    “Are we just going to stay here? Is it even
safe
here? I want to go home.”
    “They almost killed you at home.”
    “Now I’m with you and they’ve almost killed me twice. I want to
go home
.”
    Pike took out his cell phone and checked the messages. The three incoming calls were from Bud Flynn. Pike hit the send button to return the calls and wondered if they were being tracked by his phone, the signal triangulated between cell stations. To track him they would have to know his number, but Bud had it. Maybe if Bud knew it, they knew it, too.
    Bud answered immediately.
    “You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were done when you didn’t answer.”
    “They found us again.”
    “Get outta here. Where are you?”
    “Listen. She wants to come home.”
    Pike was watching the girl when he said it, and she was staring back.
    Bud didn’t answer right away, but when he did his voice was soft.
    “Now let’s take it easy. Let’s everybody calm down. Is she safe? Right now, is everything good?”
    “Yes.”
    “I want to make sure I understand—are you talking about the Malibu house or the house I just sent you to, the one in Eagle Rock?”
    Bud had sent them to a safe house in Malibu the night before, then put them onto the Eagle Rock house when the shooters hit Malibu.
    “Eagle Rock. You gave me two bad houses, Bud.”
    “Not possible. They could not have known about this house.”
    “Three more men died. Do the feds have me covered on this or not? I have to know, Bud.”
    Bud already knew about the two in Malibu. The feds had screamed, but promised to cover for Pike and the girl with the locals.
    Now Bud didn’t sound confident.
    “I’ll talk to them.”
    “Talk fast. I lost one of my guns, the .357. When the police run the numbers, they’ll have my name.”
    Bud made a soft hiss that sounded more tired than angry. Pike didn’t press him. Pike let him think.
    “All right, listen—she wants to come home?”
    “Yes.”
    “Put her on.”
    Pike held out the phone. The girl put it to her ear, but now she seemed uncertain. She listened for several minutes, and then she spoke once.
    She said, “I’m really scared. Can’t I come home?”
    Pike knew the answer even before she gave back the phone. Here they were in an alley in southeast Los Angeles, temperature in the mid-nineties, and this girl looked cold. She flew over places like this in her family’s private Gulfstream, but here she was, all for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and, for likely the first and only time in her life, trying to do the right thing. And now the right thing meant being with him.
    Pike took back the phone even as a car turned into the far end of the alley. He immediately put himself between the girl and the oncoming car, then saw the driver was a young Latina, so short she drove with her head tilted back to see over the wheel.
    Pike lifted the phone.
    “Me.”
    “Okay, listen—she’s good to stay with you. I think that’s best and so does her father. I’ll line up another house—”
    “Keep your house. Did you ID the men in Malibu?”
    “We have to get you safe. I’ll line up another house—”
    “Your houses are