a bar that used to be in this neighborhood?” She recited the address. “It burned down around 1986. Called Tory’s.”
“Eighty-six?” The speaker wore a do-rag and a large tat on the right side of his throat. “Man, I wasn’t born ’til ninetyone.”
She slanted a look at Nate. “Geez, they’re all fetuses.” He’d tensed. A moment later she noticed why.
The stranger approaching them was at least a decade older than the ones on the stoop in years, far more in experience. It was in his eyes. In the flat, hard expression with which he regarded them. “You don’t got business here.” The stranger wore a thigh-length black leather jacket and low-brimmed hat and held sunglasses. She’d lay odds he was carrying.
“Now, how would you know that?” Nate asked, the slightest edge to his voice. “You have a name?”
“They looking for Juicy,” one of the stoop sitters offered. “They already been inside and talked to Jasmine.”
The man’s head jerked toward the speaker. “Nidge you better shut it before I bust a cap in your ass.” The crowd on the porch went silent again.
“Tell Juicy I want to talk to him. My card’s inside.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” The stranger spit on the sidewalk, narrowly missing Risa’s shoe.
“No, I’ll bet you take orders from Emmons, though.” She smiled at him, mockery dripping from her words. “I’ll bet you jump through every hoop he holds out.” The tightening of his lips was evidence that her words had found their mark. “The longer he takes to come in, the more company you’re going to be getting in this neighborhood. That can make it difficult for things around here to get back to normal.” She shrugged. “If that’s what Juicy wants, no problem.”
They moved away toward the car. Got in. As they drove off, the unidentified man on the sidewalk was still staring after them. “No matter how high he is in the organization, it’ll be Emmons making the decision about whether to come in or not.”
“I’m guessing they’re starting to think about what constant visits from the force will do to their ability to conduct business. At least we can hope so.” She turned to cock a brow at him. “What’s next?”
He was silent for a moment. Then, “How about we make the rounds in a radius around the convenience store and collect any security tapes we can find before heading back for the briefing?”
“Only if you promise to let me run into the convenience store for a hot sandwich and restroom break.”
“I’ll do better than that.” He shot her a grin as he nosed the vehicle through a green light. “I’ll buy you popcorn for when we go over the security tapes later.”
Risa leaned her head against the seat rest and smiled. “I have a feeling that’s the best offer I’m going to get all day.”
He’d waited for the old lady to leave the house. Drove behind her for a couple blocks and saw her sitting at the bus stop. Once she’d actually gotten on the bus, he circled around and parked in back of her block. Cut across the yards and headed for her back door.
It was just past dusk, but Chandler’s car wasn’t out front yet. He had time. Just enough for a peek inside the house, a quick look through her things. He hadn’t decided yet if she posed any particular threat. Had almost dismissed her. She didn’t seem like anything special. But he’d never been caught because he didn’t overlook anything. So he’d be thorough.
The security system was better than decent but his skills were outstanding. He wasn’t standing outside any longer than someone having difficulty with his key. Still he resolved to be quick inside, in case one of the neighbors got nosy.
The first bedroom was the old lady’s. He swiftly went to the next. Found the tailored suits and bright tops in the closet and knew he had the right place. He looked around for a computer and realized disappointedly she’d probably have it with her.
There wasn’t much else to see, but he went through her drawers, checked her closet to be sure. Found nothing of interest, because she was of no interest. No threat. Not even worth the time wasted thinking about her.
He grinned, cocky now. His plans were set and neither she nor McGuire could prevent the inevitable. In an effort to be meticulous, he opened the drawer of the bedside table. Whistled soundlessly when he saw the holstered weapon there. It was impossible to