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Prologue
Frank Falco
Damn California heat.
I didn’t think anything could compare to the sticky humidity of New York. Being there for two weeks had been an exercise in hell. Everywhere I went, sweat melted off me. Thank god that was over. If I never saw the East Coast again, it’d be too soon. I closed my eyes and inhaled the humid-less air of Los Angeles.
“Are you getting in the cab or what?”
I fought an urge to smack the shit out of him as I threw my bag on top of the trunk. “Hill Heights Apartments, and you’d better hurry.”
After storing my luggage, the cab driver slid into the front seat and glanced into the rearview mirror. “Is this your first time in LA?”
I cut my eyes at him. “No.”
Mumbling to himself, he raised his hands. “Sorry for bothering you.”
I stared craters into the back of his head. “I’m meeting someone here.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a surprise. A reunion of sorts.” I chuckled at my own joke.
After an hour of mindless chit-chat that had me ready to slit my own throat, I almost slid off the edge of the seat when he threw the car into park. Twisting around, he held out his hand. “That’ll be forty-six dollars and fifty cents.” He tapped the digital fare meter in front of him.
Pulling a few bills out of my wallet, I threw them at his face. “Pop the trunk.”
With my bag in my hand, I walked to the rental office. It didn’t take long to make eye contact with a young girl sitting behind a mahogany desk. I cleared my throat, forcing the hot blond to look up from her paperwork.
“May I help you?”
“I called about renting a third-floor apartment.”
The pen dangled from her painted red nails. “Your name?”
Wiping the sweat from my brow, the name I’d practiced so many times rolled off my tongue. “Frank. Frank Falco.”
She scanned her computer screen. “Ah, yes, Mr. Falco. I have your paperwork ready.”
Quickly scribbling my new name, I snatched the keys out of her hands, ready to get this show on the road.
“Is that all right, Mr. Falco?”
I turned back to the delicious blond. “Is what all right, darlin’?”
“I asked you if it was still all right to give you an apartment on the third floor. You know, because of your condition.” She looked confused.
I leaned my palms on the desk and licked my lips. “My condition?”
The girl’s face flamed. “Yes, sir, I meant that you’re…that you seem to be…” Instant recognition hit me as she pointed a finger at my calf.
“Oh, that? No problem. I’ll be fine, little lady. Don’t you worry.”
Bitch never seen a bullet hole before?
Fucking Baltimore police couldn’t shoot their way out of a paper bag. They were aiming for my chest.
The blond smiled, revealing perfect teeth. “Then welcome to Hill Heights. If you need anything, we’re here eight a.m. until five p.m., and we have a twenty-four-hour emergency paging service.”
