you.â
âNo one got to me.â
âThis last case they threw at me,â Tino said. âThat bullshit extortion rap. They were talking twenty years.â
He touched his chest. âHere I am, sixty-six years old, only one lung. They figured Iâd take the five they were offering, be happy about it. I said, âFuck you, take me to trial.â And they did and they lost, because it was a bullshit case to start with. Thatâs the way they work, they try to scare you.â
Eddie looked at the TV screen. Nicky and Rio were standing outside the back door, smoking cigarettes, looking at the El Camino.
âWhoâs that you brought with you?â Tino said.
âMy partner.â
âI know him?â
âMaybe. Terry Trudeau. We celled together in Rahway a few years back. Heâs a good kid.â
âYou trust him?â
âYou donât need to worry about him.â
âYou got a place to stay. You need anything else?â
âWork.â
âWeâll do what we can, get you earning again,â Tino said. âA good man is always valuable. And youâre the best. Thatâs what I said to Nick. I told him, you canât find a better man than Eddie the Saint. No matter what it is you need done.â
Eddie said nothing.
âGot some sad news the other day, though. You hear about our friend Casco?â
âWhat about him?â
âSomeone jumped him in his office, cleaned out the safe. Killed him right there. Two in the back of the head.â
âSome junkie probably. They catch who did it?â
âNo, not yet. To be honest, I doubt they will. You had some money with him, didnât you?â
âA little. Not much. Guess itâs gone now.â
âHe 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
âYou want me to look into it?â
Tino shook his head.
âNo need. You just got home, Iâm sure youâve got other things on your mind. Besides, what good would it do anyway? Heâs gone.â
âThatâs right.â
On the screen, Nicky and Rio finished their cigarettes, tossed the butts away, came back inside.
âDo me a favor,â Tino said. âOpen that door. That way theyâll know weâre finished.â
Eddie leaned back, twisted the knob, left the door ajar. Nicky and Rio came back in.
âYou got a cell?â Tino said.
âNo.â
Tino pointed to Nicky, who took a cell phone from his jacket pocket, held it out. Eddie took it.
âMy numberâs already in there,â Nicky said. âIn case you need to reach me.â
Eddie looked at Tino.
âNick gives me messages,â Tino said. âCalling him is like calling me.â
âItâs prepaid, untraceable,â Nicky said. âWhen itâs used up, just toss it. Iâll give you another.â
Eddie stood. âAll right.â He put the phone in his coat pocket.
âItâs good to see you,â Tino said. âGood to have you back.â He rose, put a hand on Eddieâs shoulder for support, embraced him again.
âWeâll talk soon,â he said. âLook after yourself. Have some fun. You should be enjoying your freedom.â
âI am,â 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. Sheâd 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 sheâd 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 theyâd