Gave him the creeps. He hoped he’d have the wherewithal to swallow the business end of a Tec-9 before he got like her.

“I’m warning you, Janey!” she shouted.

“Who the hell is Janey, Ma?” he said softly.

“It’s her latest imaginary playmate,” said a voice behind him.

Oh, shit, Baker thought. Karen.

He turned to see his older sister standing in the doorway. And she took up most of that doorway. Christ, his sister the eternal hippie had really let herself go to hell lately. She’d had a second chin for some time, but now it looked like she was well on her way to a third. And if she was going to dye her hair, at least keep it up. Long gray roots and long red ends—was that a look for aging hippie chicks?

Karen said, “You’d know all about Janey if you visited more often.”

“Lay off,” he said. “I get here when I can. I don’t see you coming up with a check every month.”

It was an old argument, and he was sick of it. The nursing home was in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Karen lived in the next town. Baker had to trek out from the city.

She pointed to his seltzer bottle. “You on a diet or something?”

Yeah, he thought. I bet you know all about diets.

“No. I’m just thirsty.”

He wasn’t about to tell her that he was treating a badly bruised kidney. He kept drinking because it kept him running to the head. And every time he took a leak, he saw red—in the water and in his mind. He hadn’t checked with a doctor but he figured anything that flushed the blood out of his aching right kidney couldn’t be all bad.

Karen stepped closer and stared at his face. “What happened to your nose?”

Broken—for about the fifth time. But this was a bad one.

Another thing he owed that guy, that cabbie or whatever he was. He’d done a real number on him.

Serves me right for letting myself get caught flat-footed, he thought, but it won’t happen next time. And there will be a next time.

Baker would make sure of that.

And then his little filleting knife would come into play…

“Ran into a door.”

“No, Sam. You got hurt.” Her face showed concern, but he knew it wasn’t for him. “What about Kenny? Did he get hurt too?”

“Kenny’s fine.”

In fact, Baker wished Kenny had been driving the van instead of Chuck. Kenny wouldn’t have gotten suckered by that cabbie.

“He’d better be. I don’t know what you’ve gotten him into this time, but if anything happens to him…”

I cut him in on a sweet deal, Sam thought. Because he’s family. Because you look out for your own.