I got out of the car and stepped on the sunken marker of Bugsy Siegel. Without speaking to me, Lupe hurried ahead of me down a row of monuments to the edge of the trees where they grew next to a muddy artificial lake. There was a great sad gulf between us. She went directly to one of the markers and brushed her hand tenderly across it. Virginia Rappe. One of the actresses Lupe had said she loved. The name was sort of familiar, but I couldn’t really hook it with anything. Sounded like a third league player to me. If I asked Lupe who she was, she would probably tell me one of the sappy bubblegum stories like the one about Lana Turner at Schwab’s drugstore.

“We can see both entrances and the service road from here,” she said, still not looking at me. Lupe sat down on a tombstone to wait. As she watched the roads, I couldn’t tell what she was thinking about, Joey or me.

I paced around, kicking up small clouds of dust. It was like being in the fifth fucking ring of Dante’s inferno. What else had she lied to me about? What was the con? I felt so betrayed. Small. Naked. I kicked at the dirt some more and the silence continued heavy between us.

Finally a small ancient blue car drove by and parked near the Fiat. The person in the car hesitated a moment before getting out. It was Emma Garcia. She tucked an attaché case or large purse under her arm, then came in our direction without looking back. As I was watching her approach, I saw a black car—a Trans Am, I was sure—cruise by in the distance, but it was too far away for me to see the driver. It decelerated slightly as the driver looked at the parked cars, but it kept going toward the main entrance on Santa Monica Boulevard and I saw it exit the cemetery.

“Where’s my boy, Joey?” Lupe called out as she jumped to her feet.

“Who’s Joey?” Emma Garcia was slightly out of breath. Lupe advanced with her hands outstretched toward Emma Garcia. “My son. Give him to me.” Was she begging or ready to fight? It was the first time I’d seen Lupe look like she might lose it. A loose cannon. I knew I shouldn’t have let her act as if she was in charge. She couldn’t handle it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, I brought something to show you two,” said Emma. “So you’ll leave us alone once and for all.”

My hand moved down to my waist, where the gun was rubbing against my skin. “No funny business, and you better tell us the truth about her son. I got a gun.”

Lupe stared at me in amazement.

“Give your bag to Lupe,” I ordered.