Something a person sees every day becomes invisible, but something out of the ordinary stands out. He had asked these same questions or questions like them a thousand times when he was a cop.
“Forget the Tercel. When you were coming back with the moo, did you see anyone you didn’t recognize? Maybe a car that wasn’t familiar?”
Jared shook his head.
“Nobody like you mean. A couple of ladies with dogs walked by. Some gardeners were working next door.”
Pike hesitated.
“At Wilson’s?”
“Yeah. A couple of Latin dudes.”
Almost every house along the canals would employ professional gardeners, and most would be Latin.
“You know they were gardeners because you’ve seen them before, or do you assume they were gardeners because they were Latin?”
Jared turned dark red, as if he had been accused of racial profiling.
“Dude! Hey, here are these dudes, they have the work clothes, not exactly dressed for success, I see’m going in through the gate, who else would they be?”
Lily Palmer said, “Did they have blowers, honey? A mower?”
“It’s not like I studied them. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Pike touched the side of his neck.
“Ink?”
Jared pressed his lips together as he tracked through his memory, then he suddenly brightened.
“Yeah, I think, but the one dude, I remember this, he had a cast on his arm.”
Pike felt very still, and heard only the soft whisper of his breath and the heavy, slow-motion thump of his heart.
“Which arm?”
Jared touched his right forearm.
“This one. He had one of those wrist casts, goes from the thumb up to about right here.”
Mendoza was wearing exactly that cast when he was released from the Airport Courthouse.
“And the car was still there when you saw them?”
“Yeah. It was there.”
“And later it was gone.”
“Yeah. Gone.”
Pike turned toward Smith’s house. His slow-beating heart grew louder until each beat boomed like thunder on the horizon. He had seen the outside of the house, but very little of the inside. A nightmare worse than goat heads could be waiting inside.
Lily Palmer touched his arm.
“Are they the people you were talking about?”
Pike nodded, still staring at the house.
“Should we call the police?”
Pike shook his head.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Then he gave Lily something to help ease her concerns.
“When you see Wilson or Dru, ask them to call me. They have the number.”
“Of course. As soon as I see them.”
Pike returned to his Jeep and backed out the narrow street. He turned the corner, then immediately pulled over and parked.
He trotted back fast, checked again to see if anyone was looking, then hoisted himself over a fence on the side of Wilson’s house away from the Palmers. Having seen the property once, he knew where he wanted to go and carried the things he needed to enter.
On this side of the house, Pike had found a window used for ventilation for a laundry room. He pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves, then set to work. It had not been tampered with before, but now he levered it open with a small pry bar and shimmied through the opening.
Once inside, Pike pulled a pair of paper booties over his running shoes, then quickly moved through the house. His sole mission was to search for bodies. He would take the time for nothing else because nothing else was as important.
Pike slipped through the laundry room into a hall, then swept through the kitchen, a large family room, a small bedroom with an adjoining bath. He did not touch or examine anything, though he quickly scanned each floor for blood. He found no obvious drops or splatters, no signs of a violent struggle, and no bodies.
He took the stairs three at a time to the second floor, flowing through a large office, an enormous master bedroom, and the master bath as smoothly as if he were liquid.
He went through the entire house in less than sixty seconds, and never once stopped moving until he knew there were no bodies. Wilson and
“Forget the Tercel. When you were coming back with the moo, did you see anyone you didn’t recognize? Maybe a car that wasn’t familiar?”
Jared shook his head.
“Nobody like you mean. A couple of ladies with dogs walked by. Some gardeners were working next door.”
Pike hesitated.
“At Wilson’s?”
“Yeah. A couple of Latin dudes.”
Almost every house along the canals would employ professional gardeners, and most would be Latin.
“You know they were gardeners because you’ve seen them before, or do you assume they were gardeners because they were Latin?”
Jared turned dark red, as if he had been accused of racial profiling.
“Dude! Hey, here are these dudes, they have the work clothes, not exactly dressed for success, I see’m going in through the gate, who else would they be?”
Lily Palmer said, “Did they have blowers, honey? A mower?”
“It’s not like I studied them. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Pike touched the side of his neck.
“Ink?”
Jared pressed his lips together as he tracked through his memory, then he suddenly brightened.
“Yeah, I think, but the one dude, I remember this, he had a cast on his arm.”
Pike felt very still, and heard only the soft whisper of his breath and the heavy, slow-motion thump of his heart.
“Which arm?”
Jared touched his right forearm.
“This one. He had one of those wrist casts, goes from the thumb up to about right here.”
Mendoza was wearing exactly that cast when he was released from the Airport Courthouse.
“And the car was still there when you saw them?”
“Yeah. It was there.”
“And later it was gone.”
“Yeah. Gone.”
Pike turned toward Smith’s house. His slow-beating heart grew louder until each beat boomed like thunder on the horizon. He had seen the outside of the house, but very little of the inside. A nightmare worse than goat heads could be waiting inside.
Lily Palmer touched his arm.
“Are they the people you were talking about?”
Pike nodded, still staring at the house.
“Should we call the police?”
Pike shook his head.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Then he gave Lily something to help ease her concerns.
“When you see Wilson or Dru, ask them to call me. They have the number.”
“Of course. As soon as I see them.”
Pike returned to his Jeep and backed out the narrow street. He turned the corner, then immediately pulled over and parked.
He trotted back fast, checked again to see if anyone was looking, then hoisted himself over a fence on the side of Wilson’s house away from the Palmers. Having seen the property once, he knew where he wanted to go and carried the things he needed to enter.
On this side of the house, Pike had found a window used for ventilation for a laundry room. He pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves, then set to work. It had not been tampered with before, but now he levered it open with a small pry bar and shimmied through the opening.
Once inside, Pike pulled a pair of paper booties over his running shoes, then quickly moved through the house. His sole mission was to search for bodies. He would take the time for nothing else because nothing else was as important.
Pike slipped through the laundry room into a hall, then swept through the kitchen, a large family room, a small bedroom with an adjoining bath. He did not touch or examine anything, though he quickly scanned each floor for blood. He found no obvious drops or splatters, no signs of a violent struggle, and no bodies.
He took the stairs three at a time to the second floor, flowing through a large office, an enormous master bedroom, and the master bath as smoothly as if he were liquid.
He went through the entire house in less than sixty seconds, and never once stopped moving until he knew there were no bodies. Wilson and
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