The Boxster finally stopped orbiting the light pole and headed back to the loading bays, its tail end smoking and swishing around like a snowboarder riding powder.

“I mean it, Cal. Don’t think I’m just telling you to try and behave. I’ve got more skin in this than all Dearborn’s payin’ and time’s a’rollin’.”

The two of them faced each other. Cal snorted. “It’s your call.”

“That’s right, Cal. And if it turns out it was a bad one, I’m sure you’ll let me know. Now take him to the plaza drop. Give him what he needs. It doesn’t matter if it’s dirty cash. He won’t be using no dealership.”

The Porsche pulled up, and Spencer killed the engine. The loading bay filled with the acrid smell of burning brakes and rubber. Spencer got out and slammed the door.

“Can’t beat midengine for spinnability, Cal, but you know this is the girls’ Porsche, right? Underpowered. Nine eleven’s a better choice for a guy. Nice interior though.”

The assessment caused everyone except Cal to smirk. Talent.

Suddenly, the barrier went up and a sedan drove across the lot toward them. As it slowed, Spencer found himself locking eyes with the passenger. It was something to do with the “who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing here” look he was getting.

Eddie watched Spencer and Cal get in the Boxster, Cal in the driver’s seat this time.

Seeing Eddie and the Yo-Yo arrive seemed to give McGrath a thought. He leaned into Cal’s window and spoke quietly.

“And while you’re there, tell them we’ve located our problem. Dealt with it. So they can stop worrying.”

Cal, still seething, barely managed a nod before driving off. McGrath watched them go before walking over to where Eddie and the Yo-Yo were leaning against their car.

“Nothing,” said the Yo-Yo.

“What, you mean he’s been moved?” asked McGrath.

“I mean he gave us nothing.”

McGrath chewed it over for a moment. “Tougher sonofabitch than I gave him credit for.”

The Yo-Yo shrugged.

“What?”

“I don’t think he knew anything.”

“You sure?”

Eddie jumped in. “Fuck that. He just knew we’d whack him if he fessed up.”

McGrath thought about it. It kind of made sense. When the Yo-Yo came calling, it could take more than just the truth to save you.

Not long after, Eddie went looking for the Yo-Yo. He found him saddling up on his Ducati.

“Yo-Yo, you headin’ home?”

“Bar.”

Eddie nodded, deliberating. “What was the ‘other stuff’ you was askin’ Rosso about? About whether he told the cops?”

The Yo-Yo fastened his chin strap. “Dom’s got an opportunity. Something big.”

“Like what? Doing what he’s doing right now?”

“Nah. Different.”

“Who’s Max?”

“Only me and the guy drivin’ need to know.”