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.”

Chapter 43

43

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.

Rainey looked shrunken and feeble, as if his body was collapsing along with his life.

Pike twisted his arm behind his back and shouldered him hard against the Jeep.

“Fingers laced behind your head. Feet out.”

Rainey did as he was told and did not resist.

“It’s in the car. Under the seat.”

“Shut up.”

“I hadda shoot them. I told you.”

“Like you shot Michael Fourchet?”