Lorenzo:Something Raya related?
Me:When are you coming back?You’ve been in LA over two weeks now.WTF are you doing there?
Lorenzo:I’ll take that as a yes then.
Me:She’s here.I can feel it.
Lorenzo:Sure, whatever.Long as you don’t go running off for weeks again.Standing in for you sucks.Hate all that diplomacy and socializing.
Me:Nah.I’m done chasing.
Lorenzo:Good.I’ll be back on Sunday.
As I pocket my phone, the dashboard clock catches my eye.
4:44 AM.
“Oscar, how long’s that dash clock been stuck?”
“Oh, uh, it got like that a few hours ago,” he replies.“I’ll get it fixed in the morning.Sorry about that, boss.”
A silent chuckle shakes me.“You’re listening in on me, aren’t you, little liar?Well, hear this, there’s only room foronenarcissist in this relationship.And that’s me.I’m not playing your game anymore.When you’re ready, come home.”
Oscar gives me a concerned glance in the rear-view mirror.“Uh, you okay, boss?”
A deep laugh rolls out of me, full and real.I’m feeling more and more energized by the second.“Fuckingdelighted, Oscar.Take me to Black Gold.”
I pull out my phone and fire off a text to Sanders.
Me:Cancel Kyle Canyon visit.
I already know who our new city friends are.
~
DAWN’S CREEPING INby the time I get home from a long but eventful night at Black Gold.But I’m far from tired, wired with energy.Fuckinggreatthings have been happening over the last few months.Big wins that should’ve had me feeling on top of the world, but never did.
Now, all of a sudden, I can feel my pulse again.Strong and steady, thrumming under my skin, reminding me I’m alive.
My phone rings.
Lucy.Again.
I send it to voicemail, same as the last twenty times she’s called tonight.She knows how this works.When I need her,Icall.Not the other way around.
I shrug off my jacket, roll up my sleeves and pour myself a stiff finger of whiskey.Then settle onto the couch with a hard-boiled mystery, the kind where the world’s black and white, the rules are simple, and every bastard who crosses the line pays for it.
My phone buzzes on the side table.
A text from Jenkins, head of surveillance.
Jenkins:Ran routine check on Lucy Rainford.Thought you would want to be notified of this…
There’s a video attachment.I hit play.
Overhead surveillance footage view of Lucy’s living room fills the screen.She’s on her couch watching TV.Two figures in black burst in.Fast and precise, one grabs and restrains her, holding her in place.The other drags up her shirt, exposing the “Castello’s Property” tattoo inked on her side, then presses a small device against the ink and holds it there for several minutes.
When they’re done, they straighten, look directly at the camera, and salute.Then walk out, leaving Lucy in a crumpled heap.
