if that last guy reported it to the sheriffs or not. We have to stay clear a there awhile. They're probly watching the place from the same parking lot we did."
Sharkey knew they were right. He just thought that being out on Santa Monica on the queer stroll was getting too close to the real thing. Next thing, he guessed, the two dopers will not feel like charging in. They'll want him to go through with it, get the money that way. That was when he would split these guys, he knew.
"Okay," he said, stepping off the curb. "Don't fuck me up."
He started to cross the street. Arson yelled after him, "BMW or better!"
As if I need to be told, Sharkey thought. He walked a half block toward La Brea and then leaned against the door of a closed print shop. He was still a half block from Hot Rod's, an adult bookstore that offered twenty-five-cent all-male peeps. But he was close enough to catch the eye of somebody walking out. If the eye was looking. He looked back the other way and saw the glow of the joint in the darkness of the driveway where Arson and Mojo sat on their bikes.
Sharkey hadn't been standing there ten minutes when a car, a new Grand Am, pulled to the curb and the electric window glided down. Sharkey was going to blow this one off, remembering BMW or better, until he saw the glint of gold and stepped closer. His adrenaline kicked up a notch. The wrist the driver had draped over the steering wheel was adorned with a Rolex Presidential. If it was real, Arson knew where they could get $3,000 for it. A grand apiece, not to mention what else the meat might have at home or in his wallet. Sharkey looked the man over. The guy looked like a straight, a businessman. Dark hair, dark suit. Mid-forties, not too big. Sharkey might even be able to take him alone. The man smiled at Sharkey and said, "Hey, howya doin'?"
"Not bad. What's up?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just out for a ride. You want to take a ride?"
"Where to?"
"No place special. I know a place we can go. Be alone."
"You got a hundred dollars on you?"
"No, but I've got fifty dollars for night baseball."
"Pitching or catching?"
"I'm a pitcher. And I brought my own glove."
Sharkey hesitated and glanced toward the driveway where he had seen the glow from the Kool. It was gone now. They must be ready to move. He looked back at the watch.
"That's cool," he said, and got in the car.
The car headed west past the alley driveway. Sharkey held himself from looking, but he thought he heard the revving and popping sound of their bikes. They were following.
"Where we going?" he asked.
"Uh, I can't go home with you, my friend. But I know a place we can go. Nobody will bother us."
"Cool."
They stopped at the light at Flores, which made Sharkey think of the guy from the other night. They were near his place. Arson was hitting harder, it seemed. This would have to stop soon or they would kill someone. He hoped the man with the Rolex would give it up peaceably. There was no telling what those two would do. Stoked on PCP, they would be ready for battle and blood.
Suddenly the car lurched through the intersection. Sharkey noticed the light was still red.
"What's going on?" he said sharply.
"Nothing. I'm tired of waiting, is all."
Sharkey thought there would be nothing suspicious about looking back now. He turned and saw only cars waiting back at the intersection. No motorbikes. Those bastards, he thought. He felt a dampness beginning on his scalp and the first tremblings of fear. The car turned right after Barnie's Beanery and up the hill to Sunset. Then they went east to Highland and the man with the Rolex steered north again.
"Have we been together before?" the man asked. "You seem familiar. I don't know, maybe we've just seen each other around."
"No, I've never—I don't think so."
"Look at me."
"What?" Sharkey said, startled by the question and the man's sharp tone. "Why?"
"Look at me. You know me? Have you seen me before?"
"What is this, a credit card commercial? I said no, man."
The man turned the car off the street into the east parking lot of the Hollywood Bowl. It was deserted. He drove quickly and without saying another word to the darkened north end. Sharkey thought, If this is your quiet little spot, then