Page 450 of Devil’s Disciples

Crip released the dead man’s wrists, dropping him to the asphalt with a thud! “Fucking great.”

While Crip peered over my shoulder, I poked my knife into one of the cellophane-wrapped packages. I dug the tip of my finger into the densely packed powder and then poked it into my mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Crip asked.

I winced at the taste. “That’s what they do on TV.”

His arched a brow. “What the fuck is it, Einstein?”

I tried to spit the taste from my mouth. “Cocaine.”

“Good work, detective,” he said with a laugh. “You sure as fuck didn’t need to eat that shit to find out what it was.”

My mouth went so numb that I couldn’t feel my lips. I had about as much experience with cocaine as I did in going to the moon, but I didn’t have to be an astronaut to know the drugs were uncut, and expensive.

Cholo pulled the duffel back out of the back of the truck. “It’s got maybe two grand in it,” he said, rifling through it. “Change of clothes, a notepad, and a pistol.”

“My guess is they were on their way to sell this shit,” Crip said. “Someone is gonna be pissed off as hell.” He gave me a shitty look. “Who are these two fuckers?”

I glanced toward the restaurant. Carma was nowhere in sight. “Load ‘em in the back and shut that cover. I don’t know who they are,” I said, forcing out a sigh as I spoke. “But I’m gonna go find out.”

165

Carma

My entire body tensed at the sound of pounding on the front door. Either El Pollo wanted in, or Reno was successful at getting them to leave. If the latter was true, I wondered how long it would be before the two men returned.

I hated the thought of forcing my family to flee Chula Vista but if El Pollo knew where I was, so did Angel. I pushed the kitchen door open just a little and peeked through the crack. Reno was standing at the front door. A sigh of relief shot from my lungs.

I rushed to the door and let him in.

He didn’t have to say a word for me to realize something went wrong. I’d seen happier people at a funeral.

“What happened?” I asked.

He glanced around. After satisfying himself that we were alone, he looked right at me. “We’ve got a situation,” he said. “A really awkward one.”

“We?”

He nodded. “The two of us.”

I peered over his shoulder, toward the parking lot. The men were gathered around their motorcycles. Nothing seemed awkward. In fact, Pee Bee looked like he was telling a funny story.

“Can you be more specific?” I asked.

“I had a situation in the parking lot with your two friends,” he replied. “I need to know who they are. Why they’re really here.”

“First of all, they’re not my friends. The one with the tattoos is here to kidnap me,” I said. “It’s not the first time he’s done it. Believe me. I don’t know who the other one is. Why? Are they gone?”

“How well do you know him?” He wrung his hands together. “The guy with the tattoos?”

I took another look into the parking lot but couldn’t see the truck. Pee Bee’s story continued. He was stomping across the parking lot with his arms outstretched, like a zombie. Everyone was laughing.

Contrary to Reno’s serious nature, everything must have gone better than I thought. Well enough that everyone was happy. Everyone but him, anyway.

“I’ve known him since I was seventeen,” I said, shifting my attention from Pee Bee to Reno. “I know him a lot more than I want to, that’s for sure. Is he gone?”

“Who is he?”