The Narrows - Michael Connelly [97]
She waited until they were up and staring at her with malevolent eyes. She dropped her gun down to her side and spoke calmly to them, as if this was the way she normally got to know people.
“Where are you guys from?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I’m trying to get to know you. I’m deciding whether to arrest you.”
“For what? He started it.”
“Not what I saw. I saw two big men assaulting a smaller man.”
“He was trespassing.”
“Last I checked, trespassing was not a valid defense of assault. If you want to see if I’m wrong then keep —”
“Pahrump.”
“What?”
“Pahrump.”
“And do you own these three operations?”
“No, we’re just security.”
“I see. Well, I’ll tell you what. If you two find the other two whose bikes are out front and go back to Pahrump, then we’ll let bygones be bygones here.”
“That’s not fair. He was in there asking —”
“I’m the FBI. I’m not interested in what’s fair. Take it or leave it.”
After a moment the bigger man broke from his stance and started walking toward the trailer. The smaller big man followed.
“Where are you going?” Rachel barked.
“We’re leaving. Like you told us.”
“Good. Make sure you put on your helmets, gentlemen.”
Without looking back the bigger man raised a brawny arm and shot us a bird as he walked. The smaller big man saw this and did the same.
Rachel looked at me and said, “I hope this works.”
32
THE WOMEN IN THE BACKSEAT were angry but Rachel didn’t care. This was the closest she had been—the closest anybody had been—to Backus since that night in Los Angeles. The night she had watched him crash backward through the glass and into the void that seemed to swallow any trace of him.
Until now. And the last thing she was going to let bother her were the protests of the two prostitutes in the backseat of Bosch’s car. The only thing that bothered her was her decision to let Bosch drive. They now had two custodies and were transporting them in a private car. It was a security issue and she wasn’t sure yet how they were going to handle the stop at the sports bar.
“I know what we’ll do,” Bosch said as he drove away from the three brothels at the end of the road.
“So do I,” Rachel said. “You’ll stay with them while I go in.”
“No, that won’t work. You’ll need backup. We just proved that we shouldn’t split up.”
“Then what?”
“I turn on the child locks on the back doors. They won’t be able to open them.”
“And what’s to stop them from climbing over to the front seat and getting out?”
“Look, where are they going to go? They have no choice, right, ladies?”
He looked up into the rearview mirror.
“Fuck you,” answered the one named Mecca. “You can’t just do this. We’re not the ones who committed any crimes.”
“Actually, as I explained before, we can,” Rachel said in a bored tone. “You have been taken into federal custody as material witnesses in a criminal investigation. You will be formally interviewed and then released.”
“Well, just do it now and get it over with.”
Rachel had been surprised to learn when she looked at the woman’s driver’s license that her name really was Mecca. Mecca McIntyre. What a name.
“Well, Mecca, we can’t. I already explained that, too.”
Bosch pulled into the gravel lot in front of the sports bar. There were no other cars. He lowered all the windows a couple of inches and turned off the car.
“I’m going to put the alarm on,” he said. “If you climb over and open the door it will set off the alarm. We’ll then come out and chase you down. So don’t bother, okay? We won’t be gone long.”
Rachel got out and closed the door. She checked her cell phone again and was still not getting service. She saw Bosch check his and shake his head. She decided she would commandeer the phone in the sports bar, if there was one, and call the Vegas FO to report what she had. She expected Cherie Dei to be very angry and pleased.
“By the way,” Bosch said as they came to the ramp leading up to the door of the trailer, “do you carry an extra magazine for your Sig?”
“Of course.”
“Where, on your belt?”
“That’s right, why?”
“Nothing, I just saw back there behind the trailer