I smiled, started walking. “It’ll work. By the time we hit the door, I’ll have lost several IQ points. Let’s go.”

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The front door was locked. We had to be buzzed in. The wide, brown face peeking through a tiny peephole in the reinforced door did a quick survey before unlocking it. The man who peered out at us from the doorway was massive. He looked as though he weighed three hundred pounds or more. He stood there, wheezing, ratlike eyes taking a slow and thorough survey, like a black Buddha standing at the temple door, waiting for baskets of tribute.

“I’m a friend of Leon’s,” Whip said, his voice a few octaves lower than his usual tone. “Name’s Charlie Mayo.” He paused for a moment when Buddha’s eyes slid my way. “This here’s my girl, Brandi.” I let out a deep sigh, checked my nails, the very picture of disinterest. I gave the gum a couple of pops.

Buddha stood there for a time, then turned his head ever so slightly and bellowed. “Leon. Door.”

The garage smelled of old rags and even older dust, and there were only two cars parked in the bays, neither of them the SUV I saw at the marina. I kept my cop eyes to myself, to all outward appearances, but I’d already scoped out the garage and everything in it, finding nothing outwardly illegal. I bopped to music that wasn’t playing from Whip’s phone in my pocket.

“We got to make this quick, Charlie,” I said, an annoying whine to my voice. “I’m starving and the White Palace is clear across town. I want my chicken and waffles.”

Whip frowned. “Hold your horses, will ya? I got business to take care of. Cop a squat or go play with a tire iron, or something.” He pointed to a greasy folding chair sitting in a dark, oily corner. I shot him a look. Like hell I would. These were good jeans.

A fat man in blue overalls waddled out of a back room and walked our way. He recognized Whip halfway to us and began to grin through a row of crooked yellow teeth. “What the hell? Old Charlie Mayo? What the fuck you doing here, man?”

Whip and Leon hugged like they hadn’t seen each other in ten to twenty, each backslapping the other like they were long-lost brothers. Nothing bonds men like sharing a communal prison urinal. Leon saw me and the smile disappeared quick. “Who’s this?”

Whip grabbed me around the waist, squeezed. “This here’s my gal, Brandi. Don’t mind her. Had to bring her. She wouldn’t fit in the trunk.”