Wily refused to give in. 'But the Animal looks great.'
Nick tossed a handful of pretzels into the air, just to get Wily's attention. 'No buts, stupid. The winner is gonna be Evander Holyfield. The casinos in this town have lost more money giving odds against Holyfield than any athlete who's ever lived. Three-to-one underdog against Buster Douglas; five-to-one underdog against Riddick Bowe in the rematch; twenty-to-one against Iron Mike in the first fight, even money the second. Now you're telling me some punk who just got out of prison is gonna win. Holyfield. Let me hear you say it.'
'Jesus,' Wily said. 'Can't I have an opinion?'
'A what?'
'An opinion.'
'No. Now say it.'
'All right already. Holyfield.'
Nick patted him on the shoulder. 'You're learning, kid.'
Through the glass, they saw Longo escorting Nola and her attorney out of the interrogation room. Something important had happened and they'd missed it. Valentine appeared in the doorway with a disgusted look on his face.
'What's going on?' Nick asked.
'Everyone's going out to Nola's house,' Valentine said. 'Nola says she has e-mail letters from Fontaine that will prove she's innocent.'
Nick tossed the pretzels into the wastebasket. The Holyfield fight was two days away. Tomorrow the whales would start rolling into town, deep-pocket guys who knew how to throw money around. All he needed was one to walk into his joint and his financial troubles would be gone. He was sick of Nola, ready to move on to grander things.
'So?' Nick grumbled.
'If the letters are real, Longo will have to let her walk.'
'What about my fifty grand?'
'Kiss it good-bye,' Valentine said.
Nick jumped up, knocking his chair over.
'Over my dead body,' he said, running out the door.
15
Chewing on an unlit cigar, Nick drove his Cadillac Seville through the prefab development Nola Briggs called home. A hundred yards ahead, Longo's unmarked sedan turned down a dead-end street. Nick flipped his turn indicator on, then fiddled with the AC. They'd been on the road twenty minutes and the vents were still blowing hot air.
Valentine rode shotgun, Wily and Sammy Mann in the back. No one had spoken since leaving Metro LVPD headquarters, and it made the ride seem twice as long. Finally, Wily broke the silence. Sponging his face with a hankie, he said, 'Where the hell are we, anyway?'
No one knew. Sammy griped about not being able to find his way around the burbs anymore, the developments choking the desert like weeds. Nick slowed down for a mob of kids on roller blades.
'You still think Nola's guilty?' Wily asked Valentine.
Valentine fanned himself with a magazine. 'I sure do.'
'I don't know,' Wily said, drawing glares from everyone in the car. He quickly added, 'I mean, she's looking at five to ten years. Why doesn't she turn state's evidence and rat on Fontaine? They'd probably let her go.'
Wily was talking like a moron. Valentine tried to explain it to him. 'Because she's in too deep. She's switched sides.'
'How can you be so sure?'
'Because I've seen it a hundred times before.'
'You have?'
Valentine turned around to look at him. 'When the circumstances are right, most people will cheat. It's human nature.'
Wily said, 'Define most people.'
'Most people means everybody who gambles,' Valentine replied. 'Look, my own grandmother used to cheat. I'm talking about family games, mind you. She'd hold her cards in one hand and her rosary in the other. I used to think she was praying, but one day I noticed her lips moving, and I went out of the room, then snuck back in behind her. Guess what? She was using the rosary like an abacus. Granny was card-counting.'
'Your own grandmother,' Wily said, astonished.
'It was a real eye-opener,' Valentine admitted.
Longo pulled his sedan up Nola's driveway. Nola's house was identical to every other one on the block, the sameness giving Valentine pause. How could someone live here ten years, he wondered, and not get angry?
Nick parked across the street. The four men got out and crossed together. Handcuffed, Nola huddled on her front lawn with Longo, Higgins, and her defense attorney.
'Let's make this fast,' Longo said as they converged. He had pinned a silver badge to his lapel to make it clear to everyone that he was in charge.
'I want to see those letters,' Nick said.
'They're real,' Nola told him. 'You'll see.'
A pubescent horde had gathered curbside. Nola raised her manacled wrists and called to them. 'Hey, Johnny; hey, Taylor; hey, Josh. You boys staying out of trouble?'
'Yes, ma'am,' they chorused, heads nodding in unison.
To her attorney, Nola said, 'There isn't a boy on this block that I haven't changed diapers for.'
'It must be hard to have them see you like this,' Underman said.
'It sure is.' Pointing her manacled hands at a potted cactus by the front door, Nola said, 'The key's under there, Lieutenant.'
Longo lifted the plant and retrieved it.
'You have a security system?' he asked, slipping the key into the front door.
'No,' she said, 'and I don't own a dog.'
'Thanks.' Longo opened the front door and went inside. A blast of cold air hit the front lawn, momentarily cooling everyone down. Valentine took a direct hit, the sudden drop in temperature making him shiver. He watched Wily stroll to the curb and pull out his wallet.
'Here,' the pit boss said, tossing each kid a dollar. 'Do everybody a favor and get lost.'
Pocketing the money, the boys sauntered down the street, stopping at the corner to resume watching.
Longo appeared in the doorway. 'House is clean.'
Nola marched inside with her attorney and Bill Higgins on her heels. Nick and Valentine followed. As Sammy Mann and Wily tried to follow them, Longo filled the doorway.
'Six is a crowd,' the lieutenant said. 'You boys wait out here.'
'Why?' Wily asked petulantly. 'We're part of this, too.'
'I know,' Longo said. 'You fingered her. That's why you're staying.'
Then the lieutenant slammed the door in their faces.
Back in Nick's Caddy, Wily said, 'What do we do now?'
Sammy turned on the engine and flipped on the AC. More hot air blew in their faces. Nick's Caddies never worked right, yet he was more loyal to them than he was to his women.
'Hut eeduck be thesuck ou shoufut,' Sammy said.
'What the hell you saying?'
'It's Arabic,' Sammy explained. 'It was my father's favorite expression.'
'I didn't know you were A-rab,' Wily said.
'Well, now you know.'
'So what does it mean?'
