"The Watchman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Crais Robert)

Day Two. Light in Water
8

THE WINDOWS grew light by five-thirty the following morning, filling the Echo Park house with the brown gloom of a freshwater pond. Pike had already washed and dressed by then. He wore jeans, his sleeveless grey sweatshirt, and the running shoes. He was standing in the living room. From his position, he could see the length of the house from the front door through the kitchen to the back door, and the three doorways branching off the tiny hall to both bedrooms and the bath. He had been standing in this spot for almost one hour.

Throughout the night, Pike had dozed a few minutes at a time on the couch, but had never been fully asleep. Every hour or so he moved through the house, checked the windows, and listened. Houses were living things, as were cattle and forests and ships. When all was well, the noises they made sounded right. Pike listened for rightness. He had entered the girl’s room twice and found her snoring softly both times, once on her belly, once on her side, her covers kicked into a heap. Each time, he stood quietly in the darkness, listening to her breathe, then checked the windows before moving on.

Now he stood in the living room.

At five-forty that morning, the girl staggered out of her room and into the bath without seeing him. The bathroom light came on, the door closed, she did her business, the toilet flushed.

Pike never moved.

The door opened as she turned off the light. She shuffled out of the bathroom, carrying one shoulder higher than the other, and in that moment she saw him. Her eyes were puffy slits because she was groggy with sleep.

She said, “Why are you wearing sunglasses in the dark?”

Pike said nothing.

“What are you doing?”

“Standing.”

“You’re strange.”

She shuffled back to her room. The toilet filled. The water stopped. The house was once again silent.

Pike did not move.

At two minutes after six, his new cell phone vibrated. Pike answered when he saw it was Ronnie.

“Yes.”

“The alarm at your condo went off twelve minutes ago.”

Whenever an alarm was received, the security company would first phone the subscriber to see if everything was all right. False alarms were common. Pike had arranged for his security company to call Ronnie’s number if they received an alarm. He had also told them not to notify the police.

Pike said, “What did you tell them?”

“Everything’s cool and they should reset the alarm, just like you said. You want me to roll over there?”

“No. I’ll take care of it.”

Pike thought for a moment.

“Call the security company back. Tell them if they get an alarm at the store, we want a full-on response.”

“Got it.”

Pike put away the phone, then checked the time. The alarm had probably been tripped when they breached his front door or a window. They were likely still in his home. They would just as likely be gone by the time he arrived unless their plan was to wait, but Pike was okay with it. He had to stay with the girl.

Pike thought about them being in his home. He had figured it was only a matter of time, and now it had come, and he was glad for it. They had gotten his name, found his address, and now were trying to find him. This told him much-someone who knew his name had provided it, and the only people who knew his name were the girl’s people, Jon Stone, and Bud Flynn. There was no other way, so someone was selling her out. Pike was right to cut them out of the loop.

Pike hoped they would wait for him at his home, but they would probably move on to his shop, then return to his condo again later. At some point they would learn of his association with Cole, but they would move on his gun shop first. However they handled it would tell him much about the size of their operation and their skills. It was important to know your enemy.

But, for now, the girl was sleeping. The night had passed. She was still alive. He had done his job, but still had much to do.

Pike let the girl sleep. He phoned Cole to let him know, then stood in the living room, waiting. His heart rate slowed. His breathing slowed. His body and mind were quiet. He could wait like that for days, and had, to make a perfect shot.