LATER that night they made hot jasmine tea and ate the Chinese food while Larkin watched television, a comedy about a middle-aged couple who said ugly things to each other. Pike didn’t find it funny, but the girl seemed to enjoy it. Pike phoned Cole, filled him in, and they made a plan for the next day.
When the show ended, Larkin went to her room, but returned a few minutes later wearing shorts and a different top. She curled up on her end of the couch and flipped through a magazine. The couch was small. Her bare feet were close to Pike. Pike wanted to rest his hand on her foot but didn’t. He moved to the chair.
Pike didn’t care about Pitman or Pitman’s investigation or why Pitman had lied except for how it affected the girl. He didn’t care if Pitman was a good cop or a bad cop, or in business with Vahnich and the Kings. He had been hunting a man named Meesh, but now he was hunting a man named Vahnich. If Pitman was trying to hurt the girl, Pike would hunt Pitman. Pike’s interest was the girl.
Pike watched her reading. She caught him watching and smiled, not the nasty crazy-curved smile, but something softer. With just a touch of the other.
She said, “You never smile.”
Pike touched his jaw.
“This is me, smiling.”
Larkin laughed and went back to the magazine.
Pike checked his watch. He decided they had waited long enough, so he picked up the phone.
“Here we go.”
Larkin closed her magazine on a finger and watched with serious eyes.
Pike still had Pitman’s number from when Pitman left the message, and now Pitman answered.
“This is Pike.”
“You’re something, man.”
“Heard from Kline?”
“Kline, Barkley, Flynn. What in hell do you think you’re doing?”
“How about Khali Vahnich? You hear from him?”
Pitman hesitated.
“You have to stop this, Pike.”
“Vahnich changes everything. Larkin wants to come back.”
Pitman hesitated for the second time.
“Okay, that’s good. That’s the smart thing to do here. This is all about keeping her safe.”
Pike said, “Yes. I’m keeping her safe.”
The girl smiled again as Pike made the arrangements.