She touched his arm.
"Thanks. For helping Wilson, and the rest. Really, thank you."
Pike nodded. When he offered no conversation, she filled in the gap.
"I'm curious-what is it you do? For a living, I mean?"
"Businessman."
Dru burst out laughing, then held up a hand, apologizing as she laughed, and covered her mouth with her free hand.
"I'm sorry. Laughing is bad. I shouldn't be laughing."
Pike liked her laughing. It was strong and confident, as if she was completely at ease. Pike liked her familiarity. He had spent most of his life seeking and maintaining control.
Her eyes grew shy, as if something had been on her mind and now she was going to mention it.
"May I ask you something?"
Pike nodded, watching her.
"The detectives who came to the hospital, remember how Wilson said they asked about you?"
Pike stared past her, now watching the water because he knew where this would go.
She touched his arm again, and Pike was pulled back to her.
"They told us you used to be a police officer, but you left because you were dangerous. That detective we saw, the one with the big belly-"
"Button."
"He said he can't count the number of people you've killed. He said you like killing people so much you even went off to be a mercenary, and we shouldn't have anything to do with you."
Her saying these things reminded Pike of his conversation with Miguel Azzara, only this conversation left him feeling open in a way he did not like. Pike had killed men. He had placed himself in situations where death was inevitable, but knew most people would not understand his motives or reasons. He rarely spoke of these things.
She said, "Is that true?"
"I used to be a police officer. I was a professional military contractor after I resigned. The part about the killing, that's what people like Button want to believe."
She nodded, and he wondered what she was thinking.
"Are you dangerous?"
"Mendoza thinks so."
She smiled again.
"Is that a joke? You made a joke."
Pike once more clocked their surroundings. He hadn't been making a joke, but if she wanted to laugh, he was pleased.
"What Button said, does it bother you?"
"No. I like being with you. I feel safe. Is that weird?"
Pike changed the subject when her hamburger came.
"What about you? Will you go back to New Orleans?"
Dru stared at the ocean for a moment, and seemed thoughtful. She had some of the burger and sipped the beer.
"Pretty here. I've moved around so much since the storm, but nowhere like this. I was in Jackson, then Little Rock with my sister and her husband. My mom went to Atlanta. Everyone was everywhere-Wilson was in Houston for a while, then Dallas, then he went back to New Orleans, but, I don't know, it was just too hard."
She trailed off and shrugged.
"Did you go back?"
"For a while, but I had no one to go back to. I didn't have a boyfriend, and my family was scattered. I didn't own anything, so I left again-stayed with my mom for a while, then my sister. Then Wilson came here, and he liked it, so I thought I'd give it a try. I like it here. I'd like to stay."
Pike enjoyed the play of thought on her face as she spoke.
The robot men called it quits. The smaller man gathered their earnings, closed the briefcase, then lined up behind the larger, both taking the same exaggerated pose. They marched away in lock-jointed unison. No one watched them go except maybe for Dru. Pike couldn't tell if she was watching the robot men or something behind them-maybe the lowering sun.
She said, "It's beautiful here."
She stretched, and spread her hands to the sky, as she smiled again.
"I love the breeze we get. Everyone makes fun of the smog, but most of the time it's clear. Don't you love it? Don't you love that fabulous ocean breeze?"
Pike said, "Yes."
That's when Pike saw a man outside the surf shop a few doors down from the restaurant. A life-sized statue of a surfer with a shark's head stood outside the shop. The man was behind the statue. He moved when Pike turned. A small move like a buoy rocking on a wave, just enough to disappear behind the shark's surfboard.
The man was lean, dark, and probably Latin, though Pike couldn't see him well enough with the bad angle to tell. With the quick glimpse, Pike made the man for his early forties, with a shaved scalp and furry arms.
Dru smiled lazily.
"This is nice, being here like this."
Pike said, "Yes."
She couldn't see Pike's eyes behind the dark glasses, and didn't know he was watching the man.
The man sauntered out from behind the statue and fell in with a group of passing tourists. He wore an unbuttoned pale orange short-sleeved shirt over a white T-shirt, dark jeans, and sunglasses. The shirt and the bald head keyed a memory, and Pike realized the man had passed them before. Pike had not seen him double back, which made Pike suspicious because Pike had outstanding situational awareness, which meant he noticed everything in his environment. In Pike's world, the things you didn't notice could and would hurt you.
As the man drew closer, Pike saw a tattoo on the side of his neck. The ink suggested a gang affiliation, but Pike couldn't see it clearly enough to tell. He wondered if Azzara had lied, and now Mendoza's friends were upping their game, or maybe Azzara had not had time to call off the dogs.
The man left the crowd to take a position behind a street vendor selling hats and T-shirts. Now he was on a cell phone, and Pike wondered whether he was talking or only pretending.
Pike said, "We'd better go."
Dru's face drooped in exaggerated disappointment.
"Wow. This is a short date."
"Is this a date?"
"It could be."
Dru made an effort to pay, but Pike put down cash and told her they didn't need to wait for change. When he glanced over again, the man in the orange shirt was gone.
Pike was trying to spot the man when Dru noticed, and turned to see.
"What are you looking at?"
Pike stepped in front of her, hoping the man hadn't seen.
"Don't look."
She stepped to the side, trying to see-
"Is it one of those guys?"
Pike slid in front of her again.
"It's nothing to worry about."
She was frightened, and now Pike felt irritated with himself. He took her hand. It was soft, but firm beneath the softness.
"We're fine. Come on. I'll walk you home."
Pike squeezed her hand once, then let go, but he could feel her tension as they walked back to the shop.
On the way, he touched her back to stop her twice, pretending to window shop so he could check for shadows, but the man in the orange shirt was gone and no one else was following.
When they reached the corner, Pike paused again. He checked the cars lining the curbs, the rooflines, the nearby shops, and the gas station across the street. Wilson's sandwich shop was quiet and undisturbed, but now Dru walked as if she were brittle. Her confidence and ease were gone, and Pike felt a sense of failure. He had lost control of the moment, and Pike did not like losing control.
She said, "Are we okay?"
"We're fine. I overreacted."
She shook her head.
"You don't look like the overreacting type."
He followed her to her car, the silver Tercel parked directly behind the sandwich shop.
"Want me to come in with you?"
"I've done all I can with this place, believe me. I have to see about Wilson."
Pike nodded, the two of them facing each other, neither of them moving to leave.