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Chapters (57)
  1. Welcome to the Game
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Six months later . . .
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. Back Cover

Ever so gently, Milt’s fingers twitched against Spencer’s. Still the same ads played on the TV. A zero gravity chair could be his for two hundred tokens. Loyalty here sure paid off.

“I can’t leave him.”

“The guy’s injured, been shot you say? So tell me, are you some kind of expert on gunshot trauma? You an ER doc when you aren’t selling fancy cars and shit?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought. And seeing as the guys who are experts in this kind of thing are currently hightailing it to that place, the very place where you’re doing diddly-squat, then it would seem like you’ve done all you can. Am I right?”

“I guess.”

“So get your ass out of there.” He hung up.

18

18

Ash in the Night

From the street corner, Spencer watched the medics roll their gurney toward the ambulance. A blanket covered Milt’s face. The flashing blues of the ambulance and cop cars seemed washed out by the gas station’s dazzling lights. The medics moved through the strobe lights like painted figures in the spinning drum of one of those old zoetrope toys.

“Time to move on, Spencer.”

He turned to see a dark-suited Dominic McGrath emerge from the shadows like some spectral mortician. Spencer hadn’t even heard Johnny Boy’s Merc SUV pull up. Now its engine purred softly in the dark, the Yo-Yo at the wheel. Johnny Boy held the rear door open for Spencer.

A few minutes later they were driving south on Woodward. The atmosphere in the car was weirdly calm, as if this were just something that could happen in their line of work, a little unpleasant, sure, but not unheard of. Spencer could tell that all three of them had had other plans that evening. They’d come together to take care of this “little situation” as McGrath referred to it. He sat in the back with Spencer, asking him about his day. He seemed genuinely concerned about the watch.

“No shit. Up on Gallagher and Davison?”

“Yeah, where you leave the freeway. Big guy in a Tigers cap.”

“Sentimental value?”

Spencer was too exhausted to equivocate. “Last thing my wife gave me.”

McGrath nodded, knowing when to drop something.

In the front, Johnny Boy peered at a satellite map on his iPad. He muttered instructions to the Yo-Yo, who obeyed in silence.

“You put AtoB in the loop?” asked McGrath.

“Yeah,” said Johnny Boy. “Sheila’s rearranging for tomorrow, depending on how this pans out.”

“You got anything for Spencer’s face? Our guy’s taken a pounding for us here.”

Neither Johnny Boy nor the Yo-Yo even looked around. Johnny Boy opened the glove compartment, took out a pack of tissues, and passed them back, barely taking his eyes off his screen the whole time.