“The guy was angry, okay? But he sounded natural. Just pissed off and venting. Told me what they did to his shop with the heads and all that, and that they were going to get out of Dodge for a few weeks to let things cool down.”

“Oregon.”

“Said they have friends up there. That was it. Even if I accept this business about Mendoza going through the gate, nothing the man said stands out. He wasn’t trying to send a hidden message. There weren’t any subtle pleas for help. I don’t see it.”

Pike took Button’s read at face value, though his description of Smith’s call didn’t jibe with Mendoza’s presence. Pike had hoped for some hint or clue to what had happened and where they might be.

“Then what was Mendoza doing at his house?”

Button sighed, and Pike knew he was wondering the same thing.

“What’s the kid’s name?”

“Jared Palmer. He lives in the white modern next door to Smith.”

Button took a pad and pen from his pocket and jotted the note.

“Okay. I’ll bring along the six-pack with Gomer.”

He slipped the pad back into the pocket, but didn’t look happy about it.

“He told you about the cast on his own? You didn’t tell him about it first?”

Pike shook his head, and Button scowled.

“Fucking douchebags. Mendoza’s looking at an assault charge he knows the D.A. will dispo down to a battery, and he just can’t leave it alone.”

Pike knew what Button was saying, but offered nothing in response because his thoughts were too dark. Prisons were filled with convicted murderers who got a drumstick when they wanted a thigh, or who felt dissed when a woman wouldn’t speak to them on a bus, or who decided a bartender was ignoring them. When a man felt frustrated or angry enough, any reason would do.

Button started away, then turned back. Pike saw he still had the picture of Mendoza. He held it out, but when Pike took it, Button did not let go.

“I guess you don’t remember the rules of the road, you giving up the badge. If we have to make a case on this asshole, you took this kid Jared off the board as a witness. You showing him the one picture like this, his attorney is going to argue you convinced this kid that Mendoza is who he saw, even though he saw someone else. And the judge is going to go with it.”

Button released the picture, and went back to his truck.

Pike knew Button was right, but he didn’t care about the case. He cared about saving Dru Rayne.

He was halfway back to his Jeep when Elvis Cole called.

Chapter 17

17

Elvis Cole