“What’s goin’ on, dawg?”

“I need you out here to my place on Yuma. Bring that extra magazine for the Sig with you, man. I lost the one you sold me. I’m alone right now; I’m not even strapped.”

“I can get it to you tomorrow. Or you can send someone out here -”

“I wanted it tomorrow I would have called you tomorrow. Now, you gonna damage our business relationship over this?”

“You got no call to take a tone with me.”

“Just bring it, hear? Or maybe your woman would like to bring it out herself.”

McKinley listened to dry air. Foreman’s voice, when it returned, was strangely calm.

“Ain’t no need for you to bring my woman into this, big man.”

“You gonna bring it?”

“Yeah, I’ll come out.”

“And stop by the CVS store for some gauze, and that surgical tape stuff, too. I’ll get you for it later.”

“You have an accident?” Foreman’s tone was almost pleasant.

“Never mind what I had,” said McKinley. “I expect to see you soon.”

McKinley cleaned his chest up over the sink. The cut started to bleed again, and he pressed a rag to it to make it stop. While he held it there, he tried Mike Montgomery again.

“Goddamn you, Monkey,” said McKinley when he got the recording. “Where the fuck you at?”

ULYSSES Foreman got his leather shoulder holsters from out of the closet and put them on. He found his 9mm Colt with the bonded ivory grips, checked the load, and slipped it into the left holster. From the nightstand he withdrew Ashley’s.357 LadySmith revolver holding jacketed rounds. He holstered the LadySmith on the right. He stood in front of the bedroom’s full-length mirror and cross-drew both guns. He holstered the weapons and repeated the action. The revolver was a little light.

Foreman got into a leather jacket. It was warm for any kind of coat, but necessary to wear one in order to conceal the guns. In the basement he found the Sig’s extra magazine and put it into a pocket of his leather. He clipped his cell to his side, got a few cigars out of the humidor, and a cold beer out of the refrigerator, and went outside to the back deck. He lit a cigar, drank off some of his beer, and looked up into the sky. It was a clear night, with most of a moon out and a whole burst of stars.

Foreman phoned Ashley Swann on her cell. She answered on the third ring.

“I’ve been waiting for you to call,” she said.

“Told you I would,” said Foreman. “Wanted to get up with you, ’cause I got to go out and do some business for a while.”

“Everything all right?”

“Fine,” he said, closing his eyes. “Tell me where you’re at.”

“I’m out beside the soybean field. My daddy hasn’t cut the grass yet. It’s tickling my toes, long as it is. It’s wet from the dew.”

Foreman tried to imagine her then. In his mind she had on that pair of salmon-colored pajamas and she was barefoot, holding a glass of chardonnay in one hand, holding a Viceroy with the other. Smiling ’cause she was speaking to her man. Standing under the same moon and stars he was standing under right now. Not beautiful like a model or nothin’ like it, but his. And he was smiling now, too.

“I love you, baby,” said Foreman.

She chuckled. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

“No,” said Foreman. “Wasn’t hard at all.”

“Can you come down here? Daddy would like to see you.”

“I will,” said Foreman. But even to his own ears his voice sounded unsure.

“Tell me you love me again, Ulee.”

He told her so, and ended the call. He stood there for as long as he felt he could, thinking of all he had and what he’d do to keep it. Smoking, drinking, and admiring the sky.

WHEN Strange had cleared out of the immediate neighborhood, he pulled the Caprice over to the curb and phoned Quinn.

“Terry, it’s Derek. You at Devra’s place?”

“I am.”

“I got Montgomery’s address. I don’t know how we’re gonna handle this -”

“Derek, it’s all right.”

“What is?”

“Mike Montgomery’s right here, in Devra’s apartment. So’s the boy. Everything’s all right.”

Strange felt his grip loosen on the wheel. “I’ll be right over. Don’t let Montgomery go nowhere, hear?”

“Figured you’d want to talk to him,” said Quinn. “We’re waitin’ on you now.”

Chapter 31

QUINN met Strange at the door and let him into the apartment. Quinn was smiling and so was Devra, the boy at her side. He was holding on to the tail of her shirt and did not let go of it when she moved to embrace Strange.

“Thank you,” she said. “You okay?”

“I’m real good now,” said Strange. “We alone here?”

“My roommate hasn’t been home for a couple of days. She’s been layin’ up with her boyfriend ever since I told her I don’t want that man burning smoke in front of my son.”

“Montgomery’s in the kitchen,” said Quinn. “Devra hooked him up with a soda.”

“What happened?” said Strange.

“Montgomery said he took Juwan to his place, but the boy couldn’t stop crying. Montgomery figured, he brought the boy back here, he could pick up some of his toys, might make him feel better.”

“He could have bought the boy some toys at a store,” said Strange.

“True,” said Quinn.

“How’d they get in?”

“Lady across the hall, a Mrs. Roberts, has a key. Devra reminded Juwan of that before they got split up.”

“Smart boy,” said Strange, and Juwan smiled.

“I’ve been getting our things together,” said Devra.

“Good,” said Strange. “I’m gonna call my wife, have her get a bed ready in our guest room and a sleeping bag for the boy. You can stay with us for a few days until Ray Ives figures out a better arrangement. You’ll like Janine, and she’ll like having a woman around for a change. I got my stepson, Lionel, he’s kid-friendly, too. And a dog. You into dogs, Juwan?”

“Will he bite me?”

“Nah, old Greco’s a boxer. Boxers love kids.”

“I’ll just finish packing up,” said Devra.

Quinn and Strange watched her walk down a hall, Juwan holding her shirttail tight.

“Let’s go talk to Montgomery.”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” said Quinn. “He doesn’t want to admit it, all that bullshit

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