The Wanted

by Robert Crais

  I was walking back to my car when Tyson texted again.

  TYSON: I might have it.

  His message slammed me in the chest, and stopped me in the street. The odds he would have this particular laptop were zero to nothing.

  ELVIS: Might?

  TYSON: I kept some. How can I tell which one is theirs?

  I stared at the building, and pictured him sitting on a towering stack of laptop computers. Maybe I wouldn’t wait for Devon. Maybe I’d kick down the door.

  ELVIS: You have them with you?

  TYSON: No.

  A car approached but it wasn’t a black sedan. I moved out of the street and watched it pass. A woman was driving. Not two men.

  ELVIS: Where are they?

  TYSON: Hahaha. Gotta go.

  Asking had been a mistake.

  ELVIS: What I meant was, can you get them so you can figure it out?

  I waited, but Tyson didn’t respond.

  ELVIS: The faster we ID these people, the faster we stop them.

  We, not I. Work with me, son.

  Nothing.

  I walked back to my car. Tyson was thinking, and thinking was progress. He was trying to figure a way out of his jam, and he seemed willing to cooperate. I wondered how many laptops he kept, and whether he had the laptop the men wanted. He would have stashed the laptops just as he stashed the cash and the Rolex, but not in his room. Devon would have found them.

  I was back in my car, watching for black sedans, when Jasmine’s parking gate opened, and a bright aqua Mini Cooper nosed up the ramp. The convertible top was down, making the girl at the wheel and her passenger easy to see. Tyson. I started my car, hoping they were off to pick up the laptops.

  The Mini turned right, away from me. I waited to see if they were followed, but no black sedans appeared. When their signal blinked at the end of the street, I swung around after them.

  The Mini turned south toward the freeway. I turned south with them, and let them pull ahead. I thought for sure they would use the freeway, but they continued south, and turned at Ventura Boulevard. Their signal blinked again after only two blocks, and they parked in front of a Starbucks. I guess this wasn’t an expedition to recover stolen laptop computers.

  I slid into a red zone, fired off a text to keep Pike in the loop, then strolled up the sidewalk. I photographed the Mini’s license plate, then peeked inside the Starbucks.

  Most of the tables were taken, and a handful of people waited around the pickup station. The order line snaked past a pastry case to a display stacked with packaged coffee beans, insulated cups, and designer mugs. Amber stood talking to an older woman who sat in an overstuffed chair in the corner. The older woman held a scruffy white dog in her lap. Tyson was across the room in the order line, concentrating on his phone. He finished whatever he was doing, put the phone away, and stood with his hands in his pockets. I hoped he wasn’t doing anything stupid.

  My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and Tyson’s name appeared.

  I walked back the way I had come so the people inside couldn’t see me.

  TYSON: I can get them. How can I tell which one is theirs?

  I sent a response, and drifted back to the Starbucks. Tyson was in line with his hands in his pockets just as I left him.

  ELVIS: See what’s on them. Something on their computer will tell us who they are. Find it.

  Tyson glanced at Amber, slipped the phone from his pocket, and casually read the message. He glanced at Amber again, tapped a quick reply, and once again palmed the phone.

  Hm.

  TYSON: Easy for you to say. I don’t know what I’m looking for, and I’ll have to search all of them. What am I trying to find?

  The line shuffled forward, putting Tyson next to order. I fired a quick reply.

  ELVIS: Something dangerous.

  Tyson glanced at Amber, and eased his phone from his pocket. He was frowning at my reply when Amber stepped away from the woman and her dog. Tyson saw her turn, and jammed the phone back into his pocket. Even from the sidewalk, his mad scramble to hide the phone told me Tyson was keeping secrets.

  Double hm.

  I went inside as Amber joined Tyson at the head of the line. She grabbed his arm and made a big show of pointing at the dog.

  “Isn’t that doggie cute? That dog is sooo cute. I want a dog just like that.”

  Amber spoke loudly, and her gestures were broad, the way a stage actor played to the house.

  Tyson said, “That’s a cute dog.”

  I had seen Tyson in person only once, and then from a block away. He was a nice-looking kid, but held himself close, as if wary. Amber was the opposite. She was lean, pretty, and her smile was bright with confident energy. A blousy, off-the-shoulder cream top exposed flawless skin, and long, slender legs were revealed by little white shorts that were loose, but not nasty. The Gucci sunglasses looked great on her.

  Amber ordered a Grande Skinny Caramel Macchiato with extra foam. Tyson asked for a Venti Vanilla Frappuccino with extra vanilla. Amber draped a hand on his shoulder when he ordered, and grinned at the barista.

  “Give him extra vanilla, puh-leeze. It has to be sweet ’coz he’s so sweet.”

  The barista and Tyson grinned. So did the people in line and at the nearby tables.

  Tyson paid cash and went to wait for their drinks. Amber returned to the dog lady, oo-ing and ah-ing at the dog.

  Tyson drifted to the far side of the pickup station, keeping a nervous eye on Amber until he was behind other customers. He made sure she wasn’t coming, and took out his phone.

  I eased up beside him. Tyson seemed even younger up close, soft and without edges, studying his phone like a twelve-year-old. Here we were in a Starbucks, him looking twelve, the girl oo-ing and ah-ing at a dog with yellow stains on its face, the two of them having committed eighteen felony burglaries.

  “Your friend wants a puppy.”

  He startled, and shoved the phone in his pocket.

  I smiled, easy and nice, and glanced at Amber.

  “She’s cute. Your girlfriend?”

  Tyson edged a few inches away, meeting my eyes then looking away, awkward and maybe afraid.

  “Thanks.”

  “You should get her a dog.”

  “I guess.”

  “She looks familiar. Like an actress. Has she been on television?”

  He watched the barista making drinks, unwilling to look at me, as if he could hide by watching the barista and the stranger would go away.

  “Uh-uh.”

  Amber swirled up from behind him, and rolled over him like a wave.

  “We don’t have our drinks? What’s taking so long?”

  She leaned forward across the counter, and spoke so quickly her words mashed together.

  “Agrandeskinnycaramelmacchiatowithextrafoam and aventivanillafrappuccinowithextravanilla. You didn’t give them to someone else, did you? We need caf-feine!”

  Her personality swept over and around him, and defined their dynamic. He stood taller at her touch, held himself less wary, and seemed larger, as if a static pop! of her crazy wild confidence had sparked from her into him. Amber fed his fantasies and needs, and made him feel strong in his weakest places. Whatever Amber had wanted, Tyson would have done. Her attention empowered him. Her approval was everything.

  Tyson said, “She’s making them now. I’m watching the cups.”

  “Oh, thank GODDDD!”

  Dramatic and large. I noticed the scar on the inside of her wrist. Bright and pink, a glossy line. Seeing the scar reminded me of the sad things Rae Bracken and Dick Gurwick had told me. I left, and went back to my car.

  Tyson and Amber came out with their drinks a few minutes later, and the bright aqua Mini pulled away.

  I told myself Tyson was going to pick up their laptops, but half a mile later they joined the drive-thru li
ne at an In-N-Out Burger. Tyson. Eating was constant. Maybe he needed sustenance before they retrieved the laptops.

  A few minutes later they rolled out the exit, and I followed them back to Jasmine’s apartment.

  No black sedans or men who looked like police detectives were present, but Pike’s red Jeep Cherokee idled across the street. When the Mini disappeared beneath Jasmine’s building, I drove forward and parked by a fire hydrant.

  Pike climbed out of his Jeep, and we met on the street.

  “How long were you gone?”

  “Forty-five minutes, tops.”

  “I’ve been here ten.”

  Thirty-five minutes. We studied the building and both ends of the street. They could have come, and set up in thirty-five minutes. One could’ve dropped off the other, who was waiting inside, or they could’ve parked around the corner, and set up together.

  I said, “Let’s get it done.”

  34

  WE PLANNED the work as we moved.

  I said, “Six units. Three on top, three on the bottom. They’re on top in the middle unit.”

  Pike said, “Gate?”

  “Opens from the inside. I’ll get the garage.”

  Pike trotted to the entrance gate as I ducked down the ramp to check the garage. Amber’s Mini Cooper and a silver BMW SUV were the only vehicles present. The other tenants would be at work.

  Pike had gone over the wall and opened the gate. I checked the mailboxes again on my way in. Jasmine’s apartment was #5. The apartment below hers would be #2. The name on the #2 box was Steiner.

  I slipped through the gate and we moved past the planters. The property was quiet and still as a morgue. The walkway was clean, and immaculately maintained. Each ground-floor apartment had a private entrance, hidden by design with the lush growth sprouting from the planters. Privacy had probably been a sales feature. Floating staircases led to each of the second-floor units.

  We climbed the stairs to Jasmine’s landing, and listened. Nothing. Pike drew his Python and stood to the side. I smudged the peephole with spit, and pressed the bell. I didn’t expect them to answer, but Amber called from behind the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Oh, hey, it’s Steiner, from downstairs, number two. Water’s dripping out of my ceiling. Do you have a clogged toilet?”

  Mr. Friendly, couldn’t be nicer.

  Amber didn’t respond. They were talking it over, or Neff and Hensman had guns to their heads.

  I knocked.

  “Hello? Did you hear me? I’m drowning downstairs.”

  “Okay. Hang on.”

  The lock turned, and Amber opened the door. I pushed the door into her, caught her arm, and pulled her with me as I entered. Pike came fast behind me, and moved left into a large living room, gun up and out. He cleared the room, and disappeared as I closed and locked the door.

  Surprise lit Amber’s face like a flashbulb.

  “Hey! Don’t come in!”

  Tyson stood at the mouth of the kitchen, eating the In-N-Out. He lurched as if hit by a taser, and shouted.

  “It’s them! The two men! Run!”

  He turned, and ran face-first into Pike. Pike pushed him toward me, and vanished back through the kitchen.

  I pulled Amber away from the door.

  “Wrong men. We’re the other two men.”

  Amber tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

  “Let go! Lemme go! You can’t—”

  I ignored her and focused on Tyson.

  “Is anyone here besides you and Amber?”

  Tyson stood mute, eyes unnaturally wide, too scared to answer.

  Amber thrashed pretty good.

  “Get out. You can’t just walk into somebody’s home like this. You don’t have any right to be here.”

  Irony.

  “I just walked in like this, and now I’m here.”

  I focused on Tyson again.

  “I’m Elvis. The guy your mother hired.”

  Tyson shriveled, and seemed even younger. His skin was blotched, and he looked like he might throw up.

  Amber pried at my fingers.

  “I don’t care who hired you. Get out!”

  I squeezed her arm. Just enough to get her attention.

  “Do you see me here in Jasmine’s apartment with you and Tyson? You understand I’m real? You’re not imagining me.”

  Amber pulled harder.

  “You’re talking crazy. What are you talking about?”

  “I found you. If I could find you, the men who killed Alec will find you, and they will kill you, so you’re not going to be here. We’re leaving.”

  She twisted and squirmed, trying to make a break for the door. I jerked her back hard.

  “Ow! You’re hurting me!”

  Tyson stood spiked to the floor, all big eyes and fear.

  I said, “Stop it, damnit.”

  Amber screamed. I cupped a hand over her mouth, and held tight. She kicked and struggled.

  “This is wearing thin.”

  Tyson said, “Amber, stop. Please. They’ve got us.”

  Amber wound down and finally relaxed. I let go of her mouth.

  I spoke to Tyson.

  “Does she know what happened to Alec?”

  “She doesn’t believe it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We didn’t do anything.”

  “Good luck with that in court. In the meantime, let’s try to stay alive.”

  Pike reappeared and returned to the door.

  “We’re good.”

  Pike opened the door enough to clean the peephole, then locked up again.

  I glanced at Tyson.

  “Are the laptops here?”

  “No, sir.”

  Sir. He was terrified.

  “Pack your stuff. Not much, but enough for a few days. I’m taking you to a safe place.”

  Amber looked sullen.

  “You can’t make me leave against my will. That’s kidnapping. You’ll be kidnapping me.”

  “Yes, Amber, I can, but I won’t have to. You’re coming of your own free will. You want to come. You are begging me to take you, and you’re going to cooperate.”

  “No, I am not, and I’m not leaving!”

  “Because if you don’t, I will kidnap you. I’ll wrap you in so much duct tape you’ll look like a mummy, and take you to the police. They’ll check your fingerprints against the fingerprints you left in the homes you robbed, and you’ll have a fun sleepover in jail.”

  Amber glanced at Pike, then Tyson, then back to me.

  “Tyson will get in trouble.”

  “You’re both in trouble anyway, but Tyson will be safe, and you’ll be in jail. If you rat him out to the police, that’s on you.”

  She glanced at Tyson and looked even more sullen.

  I said, “They won’t be able to find you. You’ll be safe. We’ll figure out who these people are, and we’ll stop them.”

  I glanced at Tyson.

  “Your mother will be there.”

  I looked at Amber.

  “Your mother is traveling. I called her. When she gets back, you and she can do whatever you want. Go, stay, whatever.”

  She frowned, and suddenly looked younger.

  “She’s coming home?”

  “I left a message. I haven’t spoken with her.”

  Her frown deepened, but now she seemed thoughtful.

  Tyson said, “They’ll kill us, Amber. Please.”

  Amber glanced at Pike, and the glance turned into a stare. She finally turned back to me.

  “You’re really private detectives?”

  “Impressive, isn’t it?”

  She glanced at Pike again.

  “He doesn’t look like a detective.�
��

  Pike’s head moved, just enough to acknowledge he heard her. His shades were so dark, they looked like twin doors to nowhere. He considered her, but said nothing. He turned back to the peephole.

  Amber grinned.

  “This is kinda cool, like we’re in a movie.”

  Amber was cooperative once she got on board, and Tyson was docile. We grabbed Tyson’s backpack and toiletries, and Amber stuffed a few clothes and toiletries into a tote bag. I watched what they packed, and checked their bags. Amber moved quickly once she got going, and didn’t whine or complain. Tyson said nothing, and avoided eye contact. I grabbed two towels from Amber’s bathroom on the way out, and tossed a towel to Joe. He draped it over his gun.

  Once we were ready, I collected their phones and keys.

  Amber looked unhappy for the first time since we started.

  “But why do you want my keys? I need them.”

  “We’re leaving your cars. Tyson’s riding with me. You’ll ride with Joe.”

  Amber studied Pike, all arrows and muscles and merciless black shades. She grinned so wide she beamed.

  “Oh, man, this is so frickin’ cool. I’ll take two, please.”

  I grinned at Pike.

  “Isn’t this cool?”

  Pike didn’t grin back.

  I drew the Dan Wesson, and wrapped my gun with the towel.

  “Joe will go first. You two stay with me.”

  Amber held Tyson’s arm, and huddled behind him. Her eyes were so bright they twinkled.

  “How cool is this? I mean, really? They could be outside. They could shoot us!”

  Tyson didn’t share her pleasure, and probably didn’t think this was cool or exciting.

  I touched his shoulder.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Tyson didn’t respond.

  Joe opened the door an inch, checked the landing, and stepped out. I hung back, keeping Tyson and Amber behind me.

  Pike peered over the rail, and moved to the head of the stairs. He glanced back, nodded, and went down. I stepped out with Tyson and Amber, and locked the door. Pike reached the walk below, signaled, and we followed quickly.