I smiled, waved, fluttered all five fingers like an idiot, then sighed again as though I would rather be anyplace but here. I turned to catch Buddha staring at my behind. Seriously, he was three hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce. He couldn’t possibly be Leon’s idea of muscle. All you’d need to do is whack him in the kneecaps and he’d topple over like a redwood.

Leon kept his eyes on me; they narrowed suspiciously. “Shoulda called first, though. I got business being done.” He slid a chubby hand into his pocket. There’d be a gun inside. Buddha had one somewhere, too. “Don’t let folks I don’t know just walk up in my place like this.” He slid an angry glance toward Buddha, who didn’t have the good sense to realize he had a chewing out coming later.

“Look, Leon, I said she was cool, all right? She’s with me, and you know me. Would I barge up in here bringing you trouble?”

Leon didn’t look convinced. I pictured my gun sitting all nice and comfy in my lockbox at home. My decision not to bring it was purposeful. I couldn’t have it on me, in case I was searched, and I couldn’t leave it in the car, in case someone decided to hot-wire it and take a joyride at my expense. So here I was, gun-less, and if Leon didn’t lighten up quick, Whip and I were going to have a problem. I struck an impatient pose, foot tapping, arms folded, eyes wandering. Hopefully, Leon would assume I was bored and impatient to go, but I was really looking for a way out of here in case we had to make a run for it. Buddha stood blocking the front door. There didn’t appear to be a back exit. Great.

Leon still wasn’t buying it. He was a career criminal, who didn’t trust nobody, no time. I rolled my eyes, turned my back to him to pace around a bit, but I didn’t go far. I stayed close.

“So what do you want?” Leon asked.

“Got me a little issue, brah,” Whip said, his grammar devolving with each passing exchange. “I picked up a shadow gig, some player’s sidepiece. I saw one of your cars hanging on her. I need to know who rolled out of here in it.”

Leon’s brow furrowed. “One of my cars.” It was not a question.

Whip scanned the dingy garage, specifically the cars sitting in the bays. “I saw the decal. It said ‘Fleet’ right on it, plain as day.”