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"West Oakland."

"I know where the Bottoms is."

Dance snapped, "What's this all about, Steve?"

Foster waved her silent. Back to the young man. "Okay, Serrano, here's the deal: You kill me, Lamont will kill you. Simple as that. And he'll kill everybody in your family. And then he'll go back to his steak dinner, because he likes his steak. I know that because I have been to his crib and had a steak dinner with him. A dozen of them, in fact."

Dance turned to Foster. She snapped, "What?"

"Fuck you saying, man?"

"Are you catching on? I'm Lamont's inside man."

Dance stared at him.

"No fucking way."

"Yeah, well, Serrano, I can say yes and you can say no way until you have to take a crap. But wouldn't it make sense just to ask him? 'Cause if you don't and you take me out, Lamont and his crew lose their one connection to CBI and points beyond. DEA, Customs and Border, Homeland. And I wonder which dry well you and your mother and sister will be sleeping out eternity in."

"Fuck. Wait. I hear something. A month ago. Some Oakland crew was getting solids from Sacramento."

"That's me." Foster seemed proud.

Dance looked out the window. Stemple, still looking away. She growled to Foster, "You son of a bitch."

He ignored her. "So, call him."

The Latino looked him over, not getting too close. Foster was much larger. "I no got his number. You think him and me, we asshole buddies?"

Foster sighed. "Look, I'm taking my phone out of my pocket. That's all. My phone." He did. "Ah, Kathryn, careful there."

Her hand had dropped toward a table on which a heavy metal lamp sat.

"Serrano? Could you..."

The young man noted that Dance had been going for the lamp. He stepped forward and roughly pushed her against the wall, away from any potential weapons.

Foster made a call.

"Lamont, it's Steve." He hit the speaker.

"Foster?"

"Yeah."

"What you calling for?" The voice was wary.

"Got a situation here. Sorry, man. There's a hothead, from one of the Salinas crews, with a piece on me. He's out of the..." Foster lifted an eyebrow.

"Barrio Majados."

"You hear that?"

Howard's voice: "Yo, I know 'em, I work with 'em. What's this about? Who is he?"

"Serrano."

"Joaquin? I know Serrano. He disappeared. There was heat on him."


Tags: Jeffery Deaver Kathryn Dance Mystery