I said, “This is why I didn’t call. We were trying to get this straightened out before I brought you in.”

Peter said, “Jesus Christ.”

“If Karen goes to the police, she’ll have to cut a deal with the states and the feds. She can do that, and her testimony will put Charlie and probably Sal away, but then she’d have to go into witness protection.”

Karen said, “We’d have to change our names. We’d have to move and go into hiding. I won’t do that to Toby or to me.”

Peter said, “But the guy’s here threatening our kid.”

I said, “Charlie did what he did today to get a message across. He won’t do anything else if Karen makes the pickups that he tells her to make and continues to launder the money.”

Karen said, “I’ve asked Elvis and Mr. Pike to move in here until this is over.”

Peter blinked at me. Surprised. “I didn’t know you were staying here.”

“I wasn’t staying here. I’m going to stay here now”

Peter frowned, thinking about it and not liking it. “How long is this going to take?”

I told them about Gloria Uribe and the Jamaican named Santiago, and that maybe Charlie was going to meet with Santiago sometime tomorrow.

Peter was shaking his head. “You’re gonna follow him around and hope you see a connection? Christ, that could take years.”

“It’s what we can do.”

Peter went to the window. Outside, Toby passed the ball to Dani, who shot and missed. She laughed when she missed and said something that I couldn’t understand. Peter said, “All right. If that’s the way things are, that’s the way things are. I’ll take care of it.” He was looking sort of pleased with himself.

Karen said, “What do you mean, you’ll take care of it?”

Peter made a little no-big-deal gesture with his right hand. “I’ll talk to the guy. I’ll pass a little cash and smooth him out. I’ll take care of you, Karen.”

The skin beneath Karen’s right eye began to jump. “You’ll take care of me.” Her voice was soft.

“Sure. We don’t need all this running around and following.”

I said, “Peter, this isn’t some mid-level union fixer looking for a payoff.”

“I know what this guy is.” Annoyed.

I said, “No, you don’t. This guy is a professional nut case who made his bones when he was sixteen years old by killing a man. This guy is not going to do what you want because you’re from Hollywood. He’s capo of the largest crew in the DeLuca family, and one day he’s going to be boss of all the other capos. If he wants to pal around with people from Hollywood, he’ll buy a studio.”