“The red flag was King. The DOJ told us they’ve been investigating him for laundering cash through his real estate company. They believe Meesh returned to the States with cartel money to invest with King.”

Bud nodded, arching his eyebrows.

“Upwards of a hundred mil.”

Kline darkened even more, then glanced at the girl’s father.

“The government needs Larkin to link King with a known criminal. With her testimony, they believe they can get an indictment and force him to open his books. Her father and I were against it. We’ve been against her involvement since the beginning, and look at this mess.”

“So King wants her dead?”

Bud said, “King is a money man. He has no criminal background, no history of violence, no connection with anyone in the business short of Meesh. The Justice people think Meesh is trying to protect the cash he’s invested in King’s projects. If King is indicted, his projects will be frozen along with his assets, so Meesh doesn’t want King indicted. King might not even know that Meesh is after the girl. King might not even know where the money actually comes from.”

“Anyone asked the Kings?”

“They’ve fled. Their office says they’re away on a scheduled vacation, but no one at Justice believes it.”

Conner Barkley raked at his hair again.

“It’s a nightmare. This entire mess is a nightmare, and now we’re-”

Bud interrupted him.

“Conner-would you give me a minute with Joe? We’ll meet you at the car. Gordon, please-”

Barkley frowned like he didn’t understand he was being asked to leave, but Kline touched his arm and they left. Bud waited until they were gone, then sighed.

“These people are going through hell.”

Pike said, “I’m not a bodyguard.”

“Joe, listen, the first time they came for her, the kid was at home. That place they have, the Barkleys, it’s a fortress-four acres in Beverly Hills north of Sunset, full-on security, a staff. These people are rich.”

“I get that.”

Bud opened the cordovan briefcase and took out several grainy pictures. The pictures showed three hazy figures in dark clothes moving past a swimming pool at night, then in a courtyard, then outside a set of French doors.

“These were taken by their security cams. You can make out the faces in this one and this one, but we haven’t been able to identify them yet. They grabbed a housekeeper, trying to find Larkin. They beat her bad-choked her out and broke three of her teeth and her nose.”

The housekeeper was in one of the pictures. Her eyes looked like eggplants. Her lip was split so badly you could see her gums. Pike figured whoever beat her had enjoyed it. Had probably kept hitting her even after she was unconscious.

“How close did they get?”

“They made a clean break when the police showed. That first time, the attempt on her life came as a surprise, but then she went into federal protection. The marshals brought her to a safe house outside San Francisco that evening-that was six days ago. The next night, they came for her again.”

“At the safe house.”

“One U.S. Marshal was killed and another wounded. Those boys hit hard.”

Pike heard a car door slam and once more shifted to the window. Larkin Conner Barkley had gotten out of the limo to meet her father and Kline. She had a heart-shaped face with a narrow nose that bent to the left. Copper-colored hair swirled around her head like coiling snakes. She was wearing tight shorts that started low and finished high, a green T-shirt, and had a small dog slung in a pink designer bag under her arm. It was one of those micro-dogs with swollen eyes that shivered when it was nervous. Pike knew it would bark at the wrong time and get her killed.

He turned away from the window.

“The same men?”

“No way to know. Larkin called her father and was back in Beverly Hills by sunrise. They were done with federal protection. Mr. Barkley hired me later that day. I moved her out of their house and into a hotel, but they hit us again in a matter of hours.”

“So they knew her location all three times.”

“Yes.”

Pike looked back at the limo. The dimming light in the church had taken on the color of smoke.

“Your feds have a leak.”

Bud clenched his jaw, like that’s what he was thinking though he didn’t want to say it.

“I have a house in Malibu. I want you to take her there tonight-just you. I don’t want to bring her back to the city.”

“How do the feds feel about that?”

“I cut them out. Pitman, he’s the boss over there, he thinks I’m making a mistake, but this is the way the Barkleys want it.”

Pike looked back at Bud Flynn.

“Did Stone tell you our setup?”

Bud stared at him, not understanding.

“What setup?”

“I don’t do contract work anymore. I owe the man a job. The one job. This is his payoff.”

“You’re costing a fortune.”

“I’m not taking it. That’s not the way I want it or why I’m doing it.”

“He didn’t say anything about that. If your heart isn’t in it, I don’t want you to-”

Pike said, “Officer Flynn-”

Bud stopped.

“Let’s meet the girl.”

Her father and Gordon Kline were talking when Pike and Flynn stepped from the church. Bud gestured to the Hummer, where two men in Savile Row suits began off-loading suitcases and travel bags. The girl put her hands on her hips to study Pike as if she had buyer’s remorse. The little dog, hanging beneath her arm in its pouch, watched him approaching with vindictive eyes.

When they reached the car, Flynn nodded at Gordon Kline-

“We’re good to go.”

– then turned to the girl.

“Larkin, this is Joe Pike. You’ll be going with him.”

“What if he rapes me?”

Barkley didn’t look at his daughter; he glanced at Gordon Kline.

Kline said, “Stop it, Larkin. This is what’s best.”

Barkley nodded, and Pike wondered if Kline’s job was telling Barkley’s daughter what to do.

Larkin took off her sunglasses, making a drama of measuring Pike before she looked at her father.

“He’s kinda cute, I guess. Are you buying him for me, Daddy?”

Barkley glanced at Kline again as if he wanted his lawyer to answer his daughter. Barkley seemed afraid of her.

She turned back to Pike.

“You think you can protect me?”

Pike studied her. She was pretty and used to it, and the clothes and the hair indicated she liked being the center of attention, which would be a problem. The Savile Row suits were still piling up bags.

Larkin frowned at Flynn.

“How come he isn’t saying anything? Is he stoned?”

Pike made up his mind.

“Yes.”

Larkin laughed.

“You’re stoned?”

“Yes, I can protect you.”

Larkin’s grin fell away, and now she considered him with uncertainty shadowed in her eyes. As if all of it was suddenly real.

She said, “I want to see your eyes. Take off your glasses.”

Pike tipped his head toward the growing pile of bags.

“That your stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“One bag, one purse, that’s it. No cell phone. No electronics. No iPod.”

Larkin stiffened.

“But I need those things. Daddy, tell him I need those things.”

The little dog’s eyes bulged spastically and it snarled.

Pike said, “No dog.”

Conner Barkley raked at his hair, and Gordon Kline frowned even more deeply, but no one looked at the growing pile of bags or the dog.