There was a trick that she meant to play on me at the last minute. I was sure of that. Roxanna Coors had the information that would save me from my own case. But she was also probably the greatest danger I faced.

“Okay,” I said. “But how can I help if I don’t know what to do?”

“You’re going to have to trust me, Easy.”

“Just looking for you I’ve come across two dead men. That’s the kind of path you wreak. What’s there to trust in that?”

“I just want my money,” she declared. “And I need a man I can trust to accomplish that goal.”

“And why aren’t you out there trying to do that?” We were talking but the words meant nothing.

“I never leave this house except to go to the Safeway to buy food and wine. Brock would snap my neck in a minute. And you better believe he’s out there looking too.”

“What about my neck?” I wondered out loud.

“You got to risk something, baby.”

I truly admired this woman. It felt like she was the child of evolution, a being who had mastered survival skills that most other human beings couldn’t even imagine. That appreciation must have shown on my face because she made a little bow using her head and left shoulder.

“Give me your phone number and I’ll call you within the next three days,” she said.

“I take it you’ll be in a different place.”

“Don’t worry, Easy. You aren’t like Alonzo or Ketch, because I know I can trust you. And you’re not like Craig, because you know how to survive.”

I found myself hoping that the lies she told me were truth.

37

37

“Hi, honey.” I’d called Feather down at Jackson’s house.

“Hi, Daddy. Are you home?”

“Right now I am.” Sammy was licking my fingers and Frenchie was watching, mumbling something in Dog.

“Can I come up?”

“I’m still pretty busy on this case. And lots of the work is at night.”

“Can’t I just stay there by myself? I’m old enough.”

“Why don’t you want to stay at the Blues’? Is anything wrong?”

“No, Daddy, I just wanna be in my own room and in my own house so my friends can call me.”

“I don’t know, little girl. I’d be so worried about you up here all by yourself.”

“I’m not a little girl and I worry about you every night you’re out working. But I can’t tell you to stop.”

I grunted a couple of times and sighed.

“What does that mean?” my daughter asked.

“I’ll be down to get you in about an hour.”

Feather fell asleep in the passenger seat. I drove and she snored. That’s a song I’d never tire of.