“He be a’ight. So the feds have two motel rooms next to each other. Both rooms got old-ass A/C units. Now D’s momma used to work as a motel maid, he grew up helping her clean rooms and shit. He knows how easy it is to fuck up the A/C, just cut a line in a hose or coil or whatever. He does that outside one room with a pair of pliers, takes five seconds. The A/C dies. A motel room in Atlanta in June with no A/C? Pretty soon the feds inside are sweating, call the front desk for a repairman. D already at the front desk, pays the manager to tell the feds he’s sending someone up right now. D goes up there in a old jumpsuit carrying a box of tools, looks like a repairman. The two feds let him in the room, D pulls out a piece from his toolbox and covers them while Billy and the rest of the crew come in. They knock out the feds, go through the connecting door into the next room where Tane is, and surprise the other two. They tie them all up and drive off with Tane.” His grin widens. “Whole thing took like two minutes. Didn’t even have to pull a trigger.”

“Let me guess who the agent in charge was.”

“One bald-headed asshole named Kevin Scott.” Peaches takes his feet off the desk and plants them on the floor. “Billy said the dude was pissed when they tied him up. He lucky they didn’t put a pillow over his face and shoot him in the back of the head. We took Tane to the airport right then to hand him off to your uncle. When he didn’t show, we came back here. Then you rode up on your motorcycle like the girl-with-the-dragon-whatever, and you know the rest.”

I don’t know the rest, not by a long fucking shot, but I know more than I did earlier. No wonder Agent Scott was pissed, having his prisoner snatched right out of his hands. But none of this tells me where to find Tane. “And you have no idea where Tane might be now?” I ask.

“Nope. I’m more interested in who told the feds about your ass.” Peaches stands. “And I intend to find the fuck out.”

I stand, not to measure up to Peaches but because it looks like our meeting is over. “Did my uncle tell you where Tane lives?”

“Nope,” Peaches says again. “But with his last name, I’m guessing a Pacific island.” He nods at Billy, who glares once more at Caesar and then follows his boss out of the room. I listen to their footsteps recede, followed by the side door to the outside opening and then closing.

“Now what?” Caesar asks.