walk.
Induma was still laughing. 'You had a drunk former weatherproofmg salesman perform maxillofacial surgery on you.'
'Faulty intel. It happens to the best of us. Besides, I was high on cocaine at the time. Impaired judgment.'
'Especially this week. Homer's vocational history came from the same woman who sold you that 'Godfather's with Firebird' line?'
'You try getting wrapped up in a government conspiracy. It can wear a person down.'
'I just hope she shows you the secret handshake next time.'
'There's an obvious joke I'm not gonna make.'
'Hey. Chivalry isn't dead.'
We were at the counter, me on a stool, Induma leaning. Our old positions. We'd showered and squared away the living room. Then, when we realized we were starving, she'd whipped together some vadai-which, to her chagrin, I characterized as Indian falafel. Now we sat and drank green tea.
She followed my eyes to the chip of Charlie's bone, in a Ziploc on the counter next to the chutney. I said, 'I wonder what bone it's from.'
'Sacroiliac, I'm thinking. I'll run it in right now. That all you care about, or you wanna do a DNA, too?'
I couldn't help but grin. We sipped our tea some more, enjoying the sun-warmed room, prolonging the inevitable. 'Might as well while they're at it.'
'Okay. Two days to process. And no, there is no quicker way.'
'Baby, I take the Jag.' I thought it wasn't a bad Alejandro. 'I bring it in for the service.'
She snorted. 'You sound like Ricky Ricardo. Where to?'
'I want to see if I can flush out who's on my tail.'
'Just don't leave cocaine in the glove box. It's becoming a pet peeve.' She pushed back from the counter. 'I have to get ready. Handro's taking me out.'
'Right. The anniversary.' I cupped my hands around the warm mug, stared into the tea like it held something fascinating. 'He's a lucky man.'
'Yes,' she said, 'he is.'
I watched her walk up the stairs.
Chapter 34
With its throngs of UCLA students, Westwood has even more coffee shops per block than the rest of Los Angeles. At a sidewalk cafe table, I found a dark-skinned guy tugging on a hookah and slurping a boba drink with tapioca balls.
I said, 'Want to make a hundred bucks easy?'
He said, 'Okay, but I'm the top and it's another fifty for a reach-around.'
'Let me rephrase.'
'Please.'
'Here's my credit card. The hundred bucks is just to walk across the street to that Starbucks, charge a cup of coffee, and bring it back here.'
'Where you get the card?'
'It's mine.' I showed him the name and my driver's license. Then I peeled five twenties off my roll.
'What if they ask for ID?'
'They don't ID for three-fifty.'
He took another toke. 'You think I look like somebody name Horrigan, you smoke more than I do.'
'I'm paying you a hundred bucks to try.'
He shrugged and rose, snatching the bills from my hand. He took two steps away, then came back. 'What kind of coffee?'
'A Mocha Valencia.'
'What?'
'A Toffee Nut Latte.'
'Huh?'
'A cup of coffee.'
'Coulda just said so.'
I waited for him to scurry through the slow traffic and get into line, and then I crossed the intersection, entered a little jewelry store with tinted windows and a good view. The cut in my cheek radiated pain when I shifted my jaw, but I didn't want to leave to get more Advil.
The kid came back across the street with the coffee, found the table empty. After looking around, he sat down again and resumed smoking and checking out girls. Another few minutes passed. Then he started drinking my coffee.
I'd been perusing the same cabinet for too long. The clerk came over with an aggressive smile. 'Maybe I can help you decide on something?'
'Sure, I'm looking for my girlfriend.'
'Earrings?'
I looked down. Earrings. 'Yes.'
'Do you know what she likes?'
Two sedans screeched up to the curb by Starbucks, and Sever and three agents I didn't recognize hopped out and rushed inside. I'd figured Bilton's crew had put a flag on my credit card, and I'd wanted to note the faces of some of the other involved agents. As a branch of the Treasury Department up until the Homeland Security shuffle, the Service knew money and how to track it. It had been nailing counterfeiters since the end of the Civil War. And now those considerable resources were pointed at me. This was bigger than just Sever and a few agent cronies. Bilton's crew was using the system against me. They wanted that paternity test and ultrasound. Maybe they even thought I could lead them to Baby Everett.
The clerk cleared her throat. 'Is she fair or dark?'
'Oh, sorry. Her skin color's caramel. A little darker, maybe. Beautiful black hair. Dark brown eyes.'
'Rubies are nice.'
'Yeah, but she has an emerald stud in her nose. I'm worried it'd look like Christmas.'
The agents emerged from the Starbucks and looked around. Sever locked eyes with the kid across the street. The kid was holding the mouthpiece at the end of the hose a few inches from his open mouth.
The clerk leaned across the counter. A little tenser. 'Pearls, maybe?'
'Sapphire's her birthstone. The gold settings?'
'Yes. Those are chips, not full sapphires.'
Sever crossed the street. The kid gave him my credit card, gestured around. Sever listened for a while and then laughed, the gleam of his white teeth pronounced against his tan face. He spoke into his radio, and the agents reconvened.
'Should I wrap them up? Sir?'
The agents climbed back into their cars and drove off.
'Sir? '
I offered her a smile. 'Do you take cash?'
Induma was sitting on the couch in the dark when I came through the back door an hour later. The clock on the Blu-ray player showed 9:30 P.M., but it felt later than that. As I neared, I saw that she wore a black tank top and a pair of men's Calvin Klein briefs. One night when we were dating, she'd put on my underwear on her way from bed to bathroom and found them so comfortable she'd made a habit of wearing them to sleep. I couldn't help but stare at her smooth, brown legs.
'Glad you're back safe,' she said. But she looked upset.
'What's wrong?'
