Whip picked up the card deck, shuffled it a bit. “You’re thinking like a cop. This is the life, for Leon, for Darby, maybe for Spada. They probably all got out of the can and fell right back in with the same crowd they ran with before.” Whip tossed the cards down on the table, eyed the girlie mags, but left them where they were. “Take Leon, because he’s the one I know. He probably got out, got himself a good meal, a woman, two maybe, then he starts looking around for his next move.

“He spreads it around that he’s out and ready to get back into things, so a guy he knows sets him up with a guy he knows, maybe this Spada, and suddenly Leon’s back in the game. This time, it’s cars. Next time, it could be high-end whiskey that falls off the back of a truck, maybe even hookers. It doesn’t matter to Leon. When the profits get split, he’s there to take his cut and the ‘circle of life’ continues.” Whip grinned. “Just like in The Lion King.”

I watched Whip, listening to him explain it, saddened knowing that he’d lived the life he’d just described. That he had once been in Leon’s spot, in and out of prison, heading fast in the wrong direction, that it could just as easily be him headed back to prison now, instead of Leon. “What turned you around?”

Whip sighed, fiddled with the flashlight in his hand. “I got tired of screwing up.” I stood quietly, not sure what to say. “Uh-uh, stop with the sad eyes. Get on with what you’re doing, so we can get the hell out of here.” He turned for the garage. “I’ll check out there and see what I see. My car needs a muffler. I might get lucky and find one lying around.” He looked back, smiled. “See? That look you’re giving me right now? Proves there’s no way you could be a decent crook, you’re too upstanding. Besides, there’s no way I find a Hyundai muffler out there. Leon can’t turn a profit on low-end crap like that.”

I watched him go, thinking about the turns lives take, hoping it was true in Whip’s case that his criminal past was dead and gone, knowing I’d fight to make it true, even if it wasn’t. I turned back to the office, but I didn’t hold out much hope I’d find anything useful. Gangs, I thought, or organized crime. Maybe Spada was connected? Maybe Darby had been? The place didn’t look like it did a high-volume business. There’d been little activity my first visit here, only Leon and Buddha, just a few cars. That wouldn’t have been enough to interest any decent Mob outfit.