fridge, sat in the living room, and tried to pull his thoughts together. He had trouble simmering on all burners. It seemed a reasonable assumption that Crip and Blood gangsters would research Amac's family, his girlfriends and lovers, looking for any leverage they could use against him. His aunt had gone back to Mexico, but Delfina stayed behind, and now she was missing. Amac had told Shane he didn't think she'd been abducted, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew that was probably bullshit. The last thing Amac would want right now was police interference in his personal revolution.
Shane dreaded the idea that Chooch might be driving around South Central asking questions, searching for her. But right now, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He didn't know how to find his son, couldn't even talk to him. All he had to ease his fears were the messages on the answering machine in Venice.
Suddenly Franco jumped into Shane's lap and walked up his chest until he was standing up, nuzzling his face. Shane could smell cat food on Franco's breath. Then, with Carol's cat purring in his ear, Shane's thoughts turned once more to her tragedy. Carol had paid the ultimate price. More depressing still, nobody had claimed the earthly remains of the prettiest girl from Teaneck, New Jersey. As a teenager she'd been sought after and adored; now she was just another dead junkie whore. The cop assigned to investigate her murder regarded it as a troublesome nuisance. Nobody wanted to pay for her funeral. Her value had slipped to zero.
Suddenly the doorbell rang.
Shane didn't move; he was bone tired and didn't want to answer it. The bell rang several more times. He had a sinking feeling he knew who was out there. He put Franco down, got to his feet, and crossed the room, again reholstering his 9mm Beretta Mini Cougar from his ankle to the handier spot at the small of his back. When Shane opened the door, Silvio Cardetti was on the porch cutting an ominous, garlic-breathing hole in the view.
'I figured it was one of you guys,' Shane said.
'Mr. Valentine wants you should go to a sit-down.' Only he pronounced it 'siddown.'
'I just saw Mr. Valentine an hour ago.'
'He wants t'see you again.'
'Mr. Valentine oughta start scheduling regular business appointments instead of sending you guys out to ring my bell in the middle of the night.'
'Mr. Valentine don't like scheduled appointments.'
'Yeah, well, I do, and right now I'm in for the night.'
'Here's the deal on that,' Silvio said softly. 'If Mr. V sends me out to do a job and I fuck it up, then I'm in the shitter. This is not good for my career, or my health. If you cause me this embarrassment, I will be forced to hold you personally responsible, which won't be good for your career or your health.'
'You threatening me, Silvio?'
'Fuckin' A. Now, come on, don't make this into something we can't get over.'
Shane heaved a deep sigh. 'Can I get my coat?' 'You look fine to me. Let's go.'
'Do I follow you?'
'Not this time.'
He led Shane over to a new blue Mercedes four-door. Two overdeveloped steroid cases in suits were standing in front; a third, even larger man was on the far side of the car. All three of these American buffaloes were on the balls of their feet, ready to rumble. Silvio opened the rear door, stepped back, then moved several feet away.
This felt bad to Shane-like a ride he wasn't coming back from. Maybe Dennis had figured him out, maybe he had someone down at Parker Center who had blown Shane's cover.
Everything told him not to get into the car. Nobody knew where he was going; he could disappear without a trace. Shane was still ten feet away from the two guys by the driver's door when Silvio made a tactical mistake. He passed between those two gorillas and Shane. In that second, he was vulnerable. Shane was tempted to push Silvio into his backup and take off, try to get away, slip between houses. But some instinct stopped him.
Then the moment of Silvio's vulnerability passed. Shane had to take the ride.
He smiled, then turned to get into the car. As he did, Silvio reached out and plucked the gun from Shane's belt, disarming him. When Shane spun back, Silvio was holding the Mini Cougar. 'We're all friends. You ain't gonna need this.'
Shane was pushed into the backseat of the Mercedes, crushed between Silvio and a three-hundred- pounder.
The driver of the Mercedes put it in gear. As they pulled away, Shane saw Franco watching from the windowsill in the front hall, and he wondered if he would ever see Carol's marmalade cat again.
Chapter 31
The three gunsels that Silvio brought with him all used cute nicknames. The driver was called 'Cheese.' Next to him, in the passenger seat, was 'Terminal Tommy.' The guy on Shane's right was 'Little Mo.' If there was a 'Big Mo,' Shane sure didn't want to meet him. Silvio Cardetti was 'Silver.' These handles would probably render the bug in his StarTAC useless, but on the hope that they might slip and use real names, Shane reached down and surreptitiously turned on the cell.
They were on the Pasadena Freeway heading east. As they drove, his abductors kept up a constant flow of complaints about L. A. They were Jersey transplants who were pissed off about being stuck in a town they thought was full of faggots and butt-boys.
Then they were off the freeway, driving in Pasadena. In the front seat, a map-reading dilemma was unfolding. The driver was trying to find the Devil's Gate Dam, while Silvio was looking in the Thomas Street Guide. They both frowned and scratched their heads like monkeys working on a puzzle.
Eventually the blue Mercedes was winding down into the arroyo. The Rose Bowl slid past on the right, then they were heading north toward the mountains.
'Supposed t'be up here somewhere. Supposed t'be like a little gate or something… takes you up to the dam,' Silvio said.
'Does Mr. Valentine always hold his business meetings in wilderness areas?' Shane was thinking his body wouldn't be discovered until summer.
'Nobody's talkin' to youse, so shut the fuck up,' Silvio growled.
Climbing up out of the arroyo, they entered a wooded area where Shane saw a sign that read DEVIL'S GATE DAM.
'Mr. Cardetti, why are we going up here?' he asked, identifying Silvio for the StarTAC. Shane was beginning to panic.
'I'm tired of all the questions,' Silvio barked.
They were on graded gravel that quickly turned into rutted dirt. The car bounced and rocked over the uneven surface before finally coming to a stop by a pumping station.
'Guess we're here,' Silvio announced.
All the enforcers opened their doors and Shane found himself alone in the car, dreading what was about to happen.
'Get out,' Silvio ordered.
Shane reached down to his belt and felt the StarTAC-it was warm and transmitting. He reluctantly got out of the car.
'That way.' Silvio pointed toward a narrow walkway that led across the top of the dam.
As Shane started toward the path, he again sensed that he had a chance to take off. None of his four escorts seemed to be paying close attention, and he thought he could make it into the woods bordering the path. But for some reason, he didn't try. Some instinct held him back. It was almost as if Silvio was making it too easy. Shane climbed the few stairs, then walked out onto the lip of the dam.
His mouth had turned to paste. A light breeze ruffled his hair and cooled the sweat on his forehead. Off to his left he could see a small dammed lake. A bright three-quarter moon lit the entire basin. As he neared the center of the walkway, he could see the outlines of two men looking at the twinkling lights of Pasadena. Silvio was lumbering
