![]() ![]() I still couldn’t get a fix on him, but he dressed like a big spender. The kid settled onto my ratty, floral-print sofa, and I opened two Yanjings, thinking maybe he was used to the fancy stuff. It wasn’t much cooler in the office, but there was beer and shade. “And you already want to go outside.” I grinned. I didn’t know what to make of him, and I didn’t like that I didn’t know. Skinny, clean-shaven, all done up in slacks and suspenders and a white, sweaty shirt. But the boy had a pressed, conservative look to him. He wasn’t the roughneck sort who usually came around looking for a guide. Across the yard, someone cranked up a saw. He took the hint, nodding with absurd gratitude, and I led him down past the line of old rigs, all waiting to be stripped. I wiped grease on the front of my jeans, closed the hood of the 4Runner, and gestured for the kid to follow me. He looked relieved then lowered his voice. “I’m looking for Ez,” he said, and I said yeah, I was him. Right away, I knew he’d brought me a problem. You didn’t find many folks without feeds in the city. He glanced over his shoulder and scratched the back of his head, and I saw there was nothing in his neck. ![]()
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