He and the other officer—izzo—exchanged a smile. Tera nodded. She lifted the left side of her jacket to show that her gun was safely holstered, then gently removed her wallet from the back pocket of her jeans. She opened it and handed Officer Cardona her PI license.

“Tera Montecino. I worked this case—or part of it—when I was with the LAPD. My former partner, Adrian Kraemer, called it in.” She returned her license to her wallet. Her hands were steady, despite her cartwheeling emotions. “I assume reinforcements are on the way?”

“There’s a fleet incoming,” Izzo said. “We’re here to establish a perimeter.”

“That’s good,” Tera said. She looked from one officer to the next, mirroring their neutral expressions, then continued toward her Buick. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

Cardona: “Where are you going?”

“I have a situation to unfuck.” The words raced out of Tera’s mouth before she had a chance to hit the brakes. She cupped the back of her neck, inhaled deeply, and glanced back over one shoulder. “I have . . . other business.”

“You should probably stay,” Cardona said, regarding her from beneath a deeply lined brow. “The detectives will have questions. You know how it works.”

“Yeah,” Tera said. “I do. And trust me, they’ll still be here in the morning. With any luck, I’ll be back long before then.”

She got into her car before they could say anything else, started the engine, and backed out of the driveway at speed. Within seconds, Ramón’s degenerate property was in the rearview, with God-only-knew-what waiting beyond the headlights.

27
The Cali Viking

The hotel was aptly named. Luke looked over Johan’s shoulder and watched a rattlesnake—a Mojave green—glide from the dark restaurant into the lobby. It moved smoothly, beautifully over the faux-marble tile, the light glimmering across its scales. Luke drew a stuttering breath. His eyes filled with tears and the snake tripled, then faded to a blur before snapping back, clear and long. It slithered behind an overturned luggage cart, where its tail administered a faint warning. Had it caught Xander’s animal scent? Had it seen the light reflect momentarily off the head of Johan’s ax? More tears welled in Luke’s eyes. He blinked them away and watched the rattlesnake emerge from behind the cart, then slip toward the back of the lobby and out of sight.

Luke lowered his head and imagined doing the same: to slide away, unnoticed—just a flick of the tail and gone. He envisioned the cool tile beneath his belly, the taste of freedom on his tongue, and for one vivid second it was there, it felt real, then Johan’s tattooed fist connected with his jaw and he dropped into a world of red.