The Sentry Part 10

Pike called her and got her voice mail.

"Hi, this is Dru. You know what to do, so do it."

Her message line beeped.

"It's Joe."

He was still thinking what else to say when the phone cut him off. He called back, and this time finished his message.

"Call whenever. Doesn't matter how late."

He brought the phone upstairs, turned off the lights, and climbed into bed. His mattress was hard. The sheets were crisp and tight as the skin of a drum. He listened to the water, softly bubbling downstairs in his empty home. He wondered what it would be like to have another person's sounds in his house.

Pike waited for her to return his call, but the phone remained silent.

Par Two PRINCESS OF THE ANGELS.

10.

Hydeck called at 10:08 the next morning, identifying herself as if they had never met.

"This is Officer Hydeck with the Los Angeles Police Department. Sorry to bother you, but do you know how to reach Ms. Rayne?"

The professional lack of expression in her voice told Pike something was wrong.

"Why?"

Hydeck hesitated long enough for Pike to hear radio calls in the background.

"Someone trashed their place again. I have a number for Smith, but he isn't answering. I thought you might have a number for his niece."

Pike wondered why she thought he would have Dru's phone, but dropped the thought quickly. He was picturing Miguel Azzara at the coffee shop. Smiling. It's done It's done.

"Are you there now?"

"Yes, Pike, I'm here now, and I'm trying to get them here, too. The place is a mess. Do you have her number or not?"

"Yeah, hang on."

Pike gave her Dru's cell, hung up, then immediately dialed the number. Like the night before, his call went to her voice mail. Pike left another message, then decided to see the damage for himself. Gomer had almost certainly broken the window on the first night, but Mendoza had probably wanted some payback of his own after he was released. After Pike saw it, he thought he might encourage Azzara to make Gomer and Mendoza clean it up.

When Pike arrived, he expected to find the new gla.s.s shattered, but Wilson's shop appeared undisturbed. The new window was bright, s.h.i.+ny, and intact, and the CLOSED sign hung in the door. An LAPD radio car was at the curb, but Hydeck and McIntosh weren't out front, so Pike rounded the corner to the service alley. He found them cl.u.s.tered at the back door along with Betsy Harmon and her son, Ethan. All four of them turned as Pike rolled up, and Hydeck walked over to meet him.

Pike said, "Did you reach them?"

Meaning Wilson and Dru.

"Left more messages. Those poor people will be walking into a nightmare when they see this place. The p.r.i.c.ks really did a job."

McIntosh tried to make a joke.

"But the good news is, we can add B&E and illegal disposal of animal parts to the tab."

Betsy Harmon said, "You should see what they did. Disgusting."

She wore a bright lemon dress today. She stood with her arms tightly crossed, looking strained and rigid.

Pike saw that the metal security door was bent at the k.n.o.b where the door had been levered open. The jamb above the lock was dimpled where the lever buckled the frame. It had taken a strong man or more than one man working hard to bend the metal.

"Ms. Harmon called when she saw the door."

"No, I called when I saw inside inside. Degenerates. What kind of people would do this?"

McIntosh widened his eyes at Pike.

"This s.h.i.+t is sick, dude. Check it out."

Pike stepped past the officers and opened the door.

The dank odor of blood and raw meat enveloped him. Pike moved through the storage room, but stopped by the counter as soon as he entered the dining room. Lumbering bottle flies had already homed on the scent and buzzed in slow loops past his head. The counter was red with a viscous pool of drying blood that traced darker red paths to the floor. Long thick pieces of what was probably beef liver, kidneys, and intestines floated in the blood like blue islands. More pieces were draped over the cash register and prep area, and what appeared to be a large gray beef heart was nailed to the New Orleans Saints poster. The skinless heads of three goats hung from the ceiling lights, their lidless eyes dull and bulging. Bottle flies fed on their eyes.

Behind him, McIntosh whispered.

"What if it's people?"

"It's not."

"I know these are animal heads, but this could be human blood. These organs could be from people."

"They aren't. Butchered people smell different."

McIntosh studied Pike as if wondering how Pike knew that, then pointed out the wall behind the counter.

"Check it. Your boys left a message."

Three words were written in blood on the wall above the prep counter.

I AM HERE.

I, not We We. Singular. Pike wondered what it meant.

Hydeck came up beside them.

"C'mon, it's time to go. I got some snaps for the report. All we're doing is letting in flies."

Pike said, "Have you called b.u.t.ton?"

Hydeck's irritation turned to annoyance.

"Yes, Pike, I put in a call. I'm waiting to hear back from him, too. Right now I'm more interested in getting the owners out here so they can get this place cleaned up and secure."

Pike stepped around the goat heads to the front door. He studied the gas station and buildings across the street, and wondered if Straw's people had seen anything, and whether they had stood by and watched this happen.

Hydeck said, "Let's go, Pike. I mean it. You shouldn't even be in here."

Pike followed them out.

Betsy Harmon still had her arms locked across her chest.

"Are we going to have the CSIs out here and all of that?"

McIntosh said, "That's on TV. Our people are SIDs."

Hydeck pushed the door closed. The bent frame made it difficult, so McIntosh leaned in to help. It still didn't close all the way.

"Those are animal parts, Ms. Harmon. The people who did this probably robbed a Latin market. Latin butchers sell a lot of goat meat. What time does Mr. Smith usually get here?"

"Wilson is always here by nine, every day but Sunday. If they get a food delivery, he'll come in earlier, but one of them should have been here. They're always here by now."

Pike checked his watch and saw it was almost ten-thirty. Hydeck glanced at her watch at exactly the same time, then frowned with impatience.

"Maybe they're not coming in, him with the concussion. He should be in bed, anyway."

Betsy Harmon held herself even tighter.

"In bed doesn't mean you turn off your phones. Someone has to clean up that mess."

"We've left messages. There isn't anything else we can do."

"What if they don't check their messages? That mess in there is going to rot. I can't have my customers smelling it. People can see it from the street."

Hydeck's cell phone buzzed. She glanced at the incoming number, then turned away to take the call.

Pike said, "Is it them?"

"It's b.u.t.ton. Let me see what he wants to do."

As Hydeck walked away, Betsy Harmon turned to Pike.

"They can't just leave it like this, can they? Aren't they supposed to do something?"

Pike had nothing to say. He didn't like it that Dru and her uncle weren't answering their phones. The blood and heads and the message on the wall felt like more than an act of malicious vandalism. There was a darkness to what had been done that left him feeling as if a shadow had pa.s.sed beneath him out on the open sea.

Hydeck glanced over as she spoke with b.u.t.ton, and Pike could see something was wrong in the way she held herself. Her agitation grew as their conversation went on, then she put away the phone and returned.

"Mr. Smith and Ms. Rayne won't be coming in today. They're leaving for Oregon."

Betsy Harmon stepped back as if she had been kicked.

"Oregon? Who said they're going to Oregon?"

"Mr. Smith. Apparently, he came by earlier and decided enough was enough. He phoned Detective b.u.t.ton about it this morning."

"He's going to leave it like this?"

"I don't know."

"But who's going to clean up the mess?"

"I'm sorry, but that's all I know. I'm sure he'll take care of it before they go."

Pike was surprised, and wondered why Dru hadn't called him.

"Were they threatened?"

"Pike, look inside again and open your eyes. I'd say that's a threat. The guy's scared. He wants to get out of town until these idiots cool down, and he says he won't cooperate with any further investigation. I don't know any more than that, and frankly, if he doesn't give a s.h.i.+t, neither do I."

She glanced at McIntosh.

"We're done here. Let's roll."

Pike said, "Is b.u.t.ton coming out?"

"Don't hold your breath. He was pretty p.i.s.sed off."

Betsy Harmon's face pulled tight with anxiety.

"But Wilson isn't answering his phone. What if he leaves it like this?"

"If it's determined to be a health hazard, Mr. Smith will be cited. If Mr. Smith doesn't take care of it, I suggest you call the landlord or leasing agency."

"That's it? That's all you're going to do?"

"That's all we can do. I'm sorry."

Pike watched Hydeck and McIntosh head back to their radio car, then took out his phone and tried Dru again. His call went to voice mail, but this time he did not leave a message.

Beside him, Betsy Harmon said, "I don't think they would leave it like this. I just don't believe it."

Pike didn't believe it, either, thinking that anyone who would dump goat heads and blood in the man's shop might not stop with vandalism. He put away his cell.