eyes turned to stone when she saw me through the screen.
“How did you find us?” she asked in a whisper.
“Why’d you lie to me, Etta?” I replied.
“Who is it?” Mouse called from somewhere in the house.
“Nobody,” Etta said.
“It’s me,” I said, raising my voice.
“Come on in, Easy,” Mouse said.
Etta stared death at me a moment more and then stepped aside.
Raymond was sitting at the dining table playing solitaire, dressed in a soft gray shirt and dark gray pants. These colors made his gray eyes spark like fire.
Etta moved to a corner and stared at me like Feather’s little yellow dog does sometimes.
“Don’t be gettin’ all mad, Etta,” Mouse said. “I told Easy I was here. You know we gonna need him if we want Dom to get out from under that police investigation.”
Etta turned on her heel and strode from the room. We could hear her slamming pots and pans around in the kitchen.
“What you know, Easy?” Mouse asked.
“Too much,” I said.
“It’s them books, brother. Readin’ ain’t all that good, you know. It softens up your brain.”
“We can’t kill ’em, Ray.”
His teeth were smiling but he was staring gray-eyed death.
“Really, man,” I said. “If you kill ’em then Dom will go down for the murder.”
“Okay, baby. I got ya. No killin’ ’cause it’s for Dom. Okay.”
“I need an out-of-town car,” I said. “That and the money bag.”
“We could keep the money, though,” Mouse said. “Right?”
“Most of it. Hopefully they got more money at the house.”
“What house?”
“Down in Venice.”
Mouse grinned again. “You’re good, Easy. Damn good.”
WE PICKED UP A CAR from a friend of Raymond’s. It was a purple Chrysler, from San Diego we were told. We headed out for Venice at about nine-fifteen. On the way we decided that Mouse should approach the family, to make sure that Dean and Doreen were there. I tried to think of something better. Putting Mouse in the face of the enemy more often than not ended up in a war. But I made him promise that he’d keep his gun in his belt loop and his knife in his pocket. That didn’t mean much, though. Mouse had killed people with his hands, feet, and once with his teeth.
I waited down the block while he approached them with the promise of good weed that he could procure. He was gone over an hour and a half.
I sat in the car worried that the men got suspicious and overpowered my friend. If he died this time there’d be no solace for me. I was just about ready to take the eight-chambered .38 and rush the houseful of long-haired white men.
But then Mouse strolled up.
He was singing a song. “Feelin’ Good.”
Once next to me again I could see that he was pretty high.
“Damn, Easy. If them boys wasn’t all up against Dom I’d like ’em pretty good. You know I offered ’em my weed but they had golden hash. Damn. Wow. That shit twist up your mind.”
“Dean and Doreen there?” I asked.
“Sure is. Both of ’em. But they headed out to Canada tomorrow morning. Leavin’ the country—‘just in case,’ they said.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.”
“Shit.”
“What we gonna do, brother?” Mouse asked.
He was grinning, looking at his face in the rearview mirror.
“Wait here.” I took out the Wells-Fargo bag and made it down the street.
I went into a driveway two houses down from the house of the motorcyclists and jumped over three fences. This brought me to a stand of fruitless banana trees that separated Dean’s brother’s house from his neighbors. There was loud rock and roll music playing from the open back door.
I took a deep breath and made my way across the cement patio and to an open window. Inside the window a balding man with a beard was kissing Doreen. It was a long, slow kiss. They were lying on a mattress on the floor, pressed up into a corner. The bald man put a hand up under her dress and she made a grunting sound that surprised me.
