Free Cold Shot to the Heart by Wallace Stroby

you.”
    â€œNo one got to me.”
    â€œThis last case they threw at me,” Tino said. “That bullshit extortion rap. They were talking twenty years.”
    He touched his chest. “Here I am, sixty-six years old, only one lung. They figured I’d take the five they were offering, be happy about it. I said, ‘Fuck you, take me to trial.’ And they did and they lost, because it was a bullshit case to start with. That’s the way they work, they try to scare you.”
    Eddie looked at the TV screen. Nicky and Rio were standing outside the back door, smoking cigarettes, looking at the El Camino.
    â€œWho’s that you brought with you?” Tino said.
    â€œMy partner.”
    â€œI know him?”
    â€œMaybe. Terry Trudeau. We celled together in Rahway a few years back. He’s a good kid.”
    â€œYou trust him?”
    â€œYou don’t need to worry about him.”
    â€œYou got a place to stay. You need anything else?”
    â€œWork.”
    â€œWe’ll do what we can, get you earning again,” Tino said. “A good man is always valuable. And you’re the best. That’s what I said to Nick. I told him, you can’t find a better man than Eddie the Saint. No matter what it is you need done.”
    Eddie said nothing.
    â€œGot some sad news the other day, though. You hear about our friend Casco?”
    â€œWhat about him?”
    â€œSomeone jumped him in his office, cleaned out the safe. Killed him right there. Two in the back of the head.”
    â€œSome junkie probably. They catch who did it?”
    â€œNo, not yet. To be honest, I doubt they will. You had some money with him, didn’t you?”
    â€œA little. Not much. Guess it’s gone now.”
    â€œHe was a good man, a good friend. He handled a lot of things for me. Made me a lot of money. Whoever killed him did me a disservice.”
    â€œYou want me to look into it?”
    Tino shook his head.
    â€œNo need. You just got home, I’m sure you’ve got other things on your mind. Besides, what good would it do anyway? He’s gone.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    On the screen, Nicky and Rio finished their cigarettes, tossed the butts away, came back inside.
    â€œDo me a favor,” Tino said. “Open that door. That way they’ll know we’re finished.”
    Eddie leaned back, twisted the knob, left the door ajar. Nicky and Rio came back in.
    â€œYou got a cell?” Tino said.
    â€œNo.”
    Tino pointed to Nicky, who took a cell phone from his jacket pocket, held it out. Eddie took it.
    â€œMy number’s already in there,” Nicky said. “In case you need to reach me.”
    Eddie looked at Tino.
    â€œNick gives me messages,” Tino said. “Calling him is like calling me.”
    â€œIt’s prepaid, untraceable,” Nicky said. “When it’s used up, just toss it. I’ll give you another.”
    Eddie stood. “All right.” He put the phone in his coat pocket.
    â€œIt’s good to see you,” Tino said. “Good to have you back.” He rose, put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder for support, embraced him again.
    â€œWe’ll talk soon,” he said. “Look after yourself. Have some fun. You should be enjoying your freedom.”
    â€œI am,” Eddie said.

NINE
    She hated Texas.
    As the 747 swung around on final approach, the lights of San Antonio began to emerge through the thin clouds. Her stomach tightened. She’d spent eighteen years of her life in Texas, spent another fifteen trying to stay out.
    She and Wayne had been living in Wilmington, Delaware, when the work had come up, a jewelry wholesaler outside Houston. The middle of February, and she’d been down with the flu, weak and hollow-eyed. She stayed behind when he left.
    It was supposed to be a give-up by the owner, the guns for show. Wayne had gone in with Larry Black, a pro from St. Louis they’d