The reaction was immediate. Ramón lowered his hand. His jaw clicked loose and his expression darkened. He stuttered something, then regained composure with a deep breath.

“Never heard of you,” he said.

“Maybe you’ve heard of my wife.” Luke’s voice stiffened with emotion. “Lisa Hayes.”

Ramón shuffled his feet and shrugged vaguely. “No, man, sorry.”

A lie, of course, but it made no difference. Luke knew he had to act, either by playing it cool, backing off, and bringing in the police, or by acceding to his elevating rage and pummeling some answers out of this sketchy motherfucker.

The decision was taken out of his hands; Ramón bolted, his left shoulder dropping as he swiveled, sneakers kicking up dust. His intention was clear. He wasn’t heading left for the house or straight ahead for the barn, but for the patch of yard directly between them.

He was going for the dogs.

Luke considered the snub-nose tucked into the back of his jeans. Putting one in Ramón’s leg was a decent option, and he was a good enough marksman—thanks to his prep for A Bullet Affair—to nail a moving target. He didn’t have a clear shot, though. Ramón darted between the junked vehicles on his way to the cages, moving in and out of sight. His haste was such, however, that he stumbled into a stripped-down Pontiac, bounced off it, then recovered his feet and staggered on.

Luke, giving chase, saw his opportunity. He didn’t go around the Pontiac, he went over it. His stuntman, Rocco Villeneuve, had pulled off this move in Out of Midnight—one foot on the hood, one on the roof, then launching himself through the air to bring down the perp from above. Rocco had done it in one take and made it look easy. Luke was less adept. He landed short of his target and twisted his ankle as he touched down. Momentum carried him forward, though. He lunged, whipped out one hand, and managed to snag Ramón’s ankle. It was enough to knock him off balance, and he sprawled to the ground just in front of the dogs’ cages.

“Son of a bitch.” Luke pushed himself to one knee, then scrabbled forward and jumped on Ramón from behind. This accelerated the dogs’ mania. They thrashed and snapped. They boomed and clawed. Luke was all too aware of how close they were, but his focus was on Ramón, who wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Me cago en la madre que te parió.”

“Fuck you, motherfucker!”

“Vete a la chingada.”

“Fuck you.”