“Around.”
“Around where?”
She didn’t want to tell him, but she knew he would get it out of her sooner or later. “I had a little encounter this afternoon.”
“What kind of encounter?”
“The kind where people are shooting at me, and I’m shooting back.”
He set down the sketch and stared at her. “Are you okay?”
“Not a nick on me. It was no fun, though-as I guess you know. You been in many shootouts?”
He frowned at the question. He was doing a lot of frowning all of a sudden. “I’ve been in zero shootouts.”
She found this hard to believe. Wyatt had worked out of Hollywood for years, and despite extensive efforts at renovation, much of the area still wasn’t safe after dark. “None?”
“I’ve never fired a shot in the field. I’ve hardly ever had to draw my piece. Which makes me no different from about ninety-eight percent of the cops in this town.”
“Huh.”
“I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re looking at me like I wear a skirt.”
“No, I’m not.” She considered it. “Maybe a little.”
“Thanks. So how serious was this situation?”
“It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“That’s not exactly an answer.”
“Minor dust-up. No big deal.”
He grunted skeptically. “Which division is covering it?”
“LAPD isn’t involved. It was in San Fernando.”
“I can’t help you there.”
“You couldn’t help anyway. The FBI took the case.”
“The FBI? How the hell did they get involved?”
“Hey, you know the federales, always horning in on the action.”
Wyatt stepped closer to her and put his arms around her waist. His touch was unexpectedly gentle. “These days the feds are more concerned with terrorists than street criminals. You weren’t shooting it out with Al Qaeda, were you?”
“Nothing that dramatic.” She was surprised at how good it felt to be embraced, how much she needed it. “They were pros, though. One of them was wearing the body art. I was hoping it might mean something to you.”
“It does. It’s the logo of the Scorpions.”
“The Scorpions. Scary name.”
“Scary guys. You sure you’re okay?”
She slipped free of his grasp and let him study her from head to toe. “Do I look incapacitated?”
“No.”
“All right, then. So who exactly are the Scorpions?”
“Biker club out of Santa Ana. They all have tats like this.”
“If they’re in Santa Ana, how did they come to your attention?”
“They get around. Santa Ana is where they started. They have a few satellite clubs in L.A. If you got into it in San Fernando, you’re probably dealing with someone local.”
Abby thought about Reynolds’ trip to the barrio. “No, I don’t think so. I think Orange County is a better bet. You wouldn’t happen to know where in Santa Ana these gentlemen can be found?”
“I don’t, but I can talk to somebody who does. If you give me a reason why I should.”
“They fired bullets at my head.”
“That’s what concerns me.”
“It concerned me, too.”
“I mean, it concerns me that you might be thinking about revenge.”
“What I’m thinking of is bringing these folks to justice.”
“Street justice? Or the regular kind?”
“The regular kind. Trial by jury, innocent until proven guilty, Miranda warnings, the whole nine yards.”
Wyatt reached out and stroked her hair thoughtfully. “I know I ought to believe you.”
“Come on, Vic, what do you think I’m gonna do? Track down these guys and get into another pissing match?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“A pissing match is one contest I know I can’t win. Besides, although I may be occasionally a tad reckless, I’m not suicidal.”
“Not normally. But you seem pretty jazzed, Abby. Kind of…”
“Hopped up? Like I’m on speed?”
Wyatt squinted at her. “Well, yeah.”
“Someone else made the same observation. So I guess it must be true. I mean, not the speed part. But I am a little jumpy. Can you blame me?”
“Not at all. But you know, there’s a reason police officers aren’t sent back into the field right after a shooting incident. The aftereffects-”
“I studied psychology, Vic. I know all about posttraumatic stress.”
“Then you’re aware that you’re showing some of the symptoms. You’re on an adrenaline high. At some point you’re going to come down. You could come down hard.”
She took his hand. “You’ll be there to break my fall.”
“How can you know that?”
“You always are.”
He looked away, embarrassed. “I really think you’d be better off taking some time to get yourself together. Deal with what you went through. Get it out of your system.”
“Oh, hell, I’m not a newbie. I’ve been shot at before. And I’ve shot back. I killed a man once, and I didn’t lose a damn bit of sleep over it.”
“Maybe it would be better if you had.”
She pulled her hand away. “Are you going to help me or not?”
He thought about it. “Tell me what you intend to do.”
“Find this guy. Then bring in the feds.”
“How are you going to tip off the FBI without involving yourself?”
“I have a contact in the Bureau.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“They don’t know the city like you do.”
Wyatt pursed his lips. “Nice compliment.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I know you’re manipulating me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Your lips are moving.”
She bristled. “Somebody woke up on the cynical side of bed.”
“It’s hard not to be cynical with someone who uses you.”
“Look, Vic, if my being here is a problem-”
“It is. You know it is. We can’t be seen together. It’s risky enough for me to come to your place. The damn doorman and those guards at the desk could pick me out of a lineup with their eyes shut by now.”
“How would they be able to pick you out if they had their eyes shut?”
He ignored the question. “I’ve taken a lot of chances for you, Abby. And, let’s face it, it’s pretty much a one- way street.”
“I take, but I don’t give. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s what you said.”
