“Nance,” I hissed, cutting him off. Anger roiled inside me at the mention of Turk Nance. We went
back a ways, Nance and 1, and it wasn?t a friendly trip. “They?re here too,” I said. “I?ll give you
odds.”
“Maybe so, but this isn?t a vendetta. Nance is just a tinhorn shooter. Forget him.”
“Right.”
“Forget him, Jake.”
“1 heard you”
“What are you so edgy about?”
“Oh, nothing at all. I?ve been hound-dogging this mob for what, four, five years?”
“Closer to five,” he sighed.
“I?m just a little burned that the iceman beat me to it.”
“Understandable. Just remember why you?re here. I want information. Where are you now?”
“Morehead?s war room.”
“A good man,” Cisco said. “A little short on procedure, maybe.” That was the understatement of the
year.
I said, “So far he?s treating me like I just broke his leg.”
“Cautious,” said Cisco. “Give him a little time.”
“What happens if things pick up speed arid I need some backup?” I asked.
“Mickey Parver will help you,” he said.
“He the one they call Stick?”
“Right.”
“I felt a little like an idiot. How come I never heard of this guy before now?”
“Because you never read the weekly report, that?s why,” he snapped. “He files a report every—”
I cut him off, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, yeah, I do seem to remember—”
“Don?t bullshit me,” said Cisco. “You haven?t read the weekly poop sheet since the pope was a
plumber.”
“How long?s he been in the squad?” I asked, trying to avoid that issue.
“He?s been in the squad for a year or so,” Cisco said, with annoyance. “You?ll like him. He?s young
and not too jaded yet. Please don?t spoil him by getting lost out in left field someplace. He?s a lot like
you, a lone wolf. You two can be good for each other.”
“I don?t have time to baby-sit some—”
“Who said anything about baby-sitting? Did I say that?”
