Pike returned the phone to his pocket.

Grebner said, “I’m talkin’ to you, you better stop this.”

Pike could see he was scared, which was good. Outside, Cole dragged the man behind the bar out into the open. He tied the man’s ankles, then headed toward the kitchen.

Grebner shook his head.

“You got no idea, I am telling you. No idea what kind of hell you have unleashed.”

Pike said, “Stand up.”

Grebner shuffled warily to his feet. Pike turned him around, tied off his hands, then pushed him back to the floor. Grebner squinted at Pike, trying to read him, but saw only the mirrored surface of Pike’s sunglasses—blue bug eyes in an expressionless face. Pike knew Grebner would find this unnerving. Like Walsh when she had him at Parker Center, he was psyching the edge.

“Where’s Darko?”

“Kiss my ass.”

Pike hit him again. The barrel of the .357 caught him high on the temple and split the skin.

“Darko?”

Grebner made a low growling sound, and shook his head, spreading blood over his face.

“I know you want Darko. You been telling everyone you want Darko. Here, you can call him—”

Grebner tipped his head toward the couch.

“Get the phone. You see the phone there on the couch? Get it. Scroll for Michael. Call him.”

Pike saw the phone. He picked it up, then scrolled through the directory until he found the name.

Grebner said, “Go ahead. You see the number there? Write it down, you want. Call him.”

Outside, Cole dragged the man from the kitchen next to his friend. Both men were now awake, and bound hand and foot. Cole hurried away to another part of the house, his gun out and ready.

Pike called the number, and reached a female computer voice.

“Enter your callback number at the tone, followed by the pound sign.”

A paging system. Pike hung up when the tone sounded, and brought up the phone’s call list. The call list revealed the same number had been dialed a few minutes earlier, which would have been the call Grebner placed before he went to the bathroom. Grebner was telling the truth.

Pike slipped the phone into his pocket, then went back to Grebner.

“Where is he?”

Grebner glanced at the pocket.

“There. This is where Michael is. You page him, and he calls. He lives there in the phone. He’s in your pocket.”

Pike holstered the .357, then squatted so he and Grebner were only a few inches apart.

Pike said, “This will hurt.”

Pike dug the point of his thumb behind Grebner’s right collarbone, probing for a bundle of nerves. He found it, and pinched the bundle into the bone. Grebner flinched, and tightened against the wall. Pike pinched harder, crushing the bundle. Grebner’s entire body stiffened like a drawn bow, and he made the low growl again, straining to stand up to the pain.

Pike let go.