“About what?”
“About what your detective friend said,” Petra says, “about not being able to protect Tammy. We should let her go, help her disappear, and God bless.”
Boone's shocked. This isn't the ambitious, career-oriented, ruthless lawyer talking.
“What about your case?” he asks. “Making partner?”
“It's not worth another life,” Petra says. “Not hers, not yours. Let it go.”
He loves her for saying it, thinks a whole lot more of her that she made the offer. A totally cool, compassionate thing to do. But he says, “I can't.”
“Why not?”
“It's too late,” Boone says. “A woman's been killed, and someone has to do something about that. And…”
“What?”
“There's something else,” Boone says. “Something that's not making sense. Something's really wrong here and I can't figure it out. I just know I can't let it go until I do.”
“Boone-”
“Let it go, Pete,” he says. “We have to ride this wave out.”
“Do we?”
“Yeah.”
Boone leans down and kisses her. Her lips are a surprise, soft and fluttering under his. Nice, more passionate than he would have thought.
He breaks off the kiss.
“What?” she asks.
“I have to go see someone.”
“Now?”
“Yeah,” Boone says. “Right now. You'll be safe. Tide's guys are all over it and there's a cop over there. Just lie low and I'll be back.”
He starts to go, then comes back and says, “Uh, Pete. I liked the kiss.”
So did I, she thinks as Boone disappears into the mist. Actually, I wanted more. But whom could he be going to see at this time of night?
87
“Daniels is here?” Danny asks.
“Make yourself gone,” Red Eddie says.
Shouldn't be a problem-Eddie's house has, like, eight bedrooms. But Danny doesn't move. Instead, he says, “Do him.”
“Did you just give me an order?” Eddie asks.
“No,” Danny says. “It was more of a… suggestion.”
“Well I ‘suggestion’ you get your fat ass somewhere else,” Eddie says, “before I remember how much aggro you've caused me and turn you into a supersize dog biscuit, you dumb, wrong woman-killing fuck.”
Eddie's a little irritable.
Danny withdraws.
“Let him in,” Eddie says to the hui guy. “Don't keep him waiting.”
Boone comes in, steps down into the sunken living room. The air reeks of dope-very rich, expensive dope. Eddie is wearing an imperial purple silk robe, black sweatpants, and a black beanie.
“Boone Dawg!” he hollers. “What brings you to my crib?”
“Sorry it's so late.”
“The aloha mat is always out for you,” Eddie says, proffering a joint. “A taste?”
“I'm good.”
“I am surprised to see you, Boone Dawg,” Eddie says. He lights the joint again and takes a hit.
“You mean you're surprised to see me alive, ” Boone says.
“If I wanted you dead,” Eddie says, “you'd be dead. In fact, I laid down very specific rules of engagement to our friend Danny; to wit, Boone Daniels is to be considered a civilian, a big red cross flying over his head, not to be touched.”
“I was shot at,” Boone says.
“And missed,” Eddie replies. “You want some Cap'n Crunch?”
“Yeah.”
“Crunch!” Eddie yells. “Two bowls! And open some fresh fucking milk!”
He looks at Boone and shakes his head. “Entourages these days, you have to tell them every thing.”
He gestures for Boone to sit down in a chair shaped like a palm frond in front of an enormous flat-screen plasma TV showing The Searchers. A minute later, a hui guy comes in with two bowls of cereal and hands one to Boone. Eddie digs in like he hasn't eaten since he was in seventh grade.
“This is good,” Boone says.
“It's Crunch,” Eddie says, putting the DVD on pause. “So, Boone-baba-doone, what do you want?”
“Anything in this world.”
“That's a little vague, bruddah. ”
“‘Anything in this world,’” Boone repeats. “Remember?”
“Riiiiight,”Eddie says. He sets the bowl in his lap and opens his hands wide. “Anything in this world. What is it you want?”
“Tammy Roddick's life.”
“Oh, Boone.”
“She testifies and she walks,” Boone says. He has a spoonful of the cereal, then wipes his mouth with his sleeve. “She gets a lifetime pass.”
“I take you to Cartier,” Eddie says, “and you choose a Timex. I offer you any car on the lot, you pick out a Hyundai. I sit you down at Lutиce, you order a burger and fries. You're selling yourself cheap, Dawgie Boo, cashing in this chip for a stripper.”
“It's my chip,” Boone says.
“It is, it is,” Eddie says. “You sure about this, bro?”
Boone nods.
“Because you are my friend, Boone,” Eddie says. “You gave me back the most precious thing in my life and you are my friend. I'd give you anything. You want the house next door? Yours. You want this house? I move out to night; you move in. So as your friend, Boone, I'm begging you, don't waste this gift. Please, brah, don't throw my generosity away on some cheap gash.”
“It's what I want.”
Eddie shrugs. “Done. I won't lay a hand on the bitch.”
“Thank you,” Boone says. “Mahalo.”
“You know this is going to cost me.”
“I know,” Boone says.
“And it means I'm throwing Danny to the sharks.”
“You leave him to his own karma,” Boone says.
“One way of looking at it.”
Boone asks, “Did you have that woman killed, Eddie?”
“No.”
“Truth?”
Eddie looks him square in the eye. “On the life of my son.”
“Okay.”
“We good?”
