groundbreaking back in the day, you know. Like when one of the guys accidentally joined the Black Panthers? That was hysterical.”

“I don’t think groundbreaking is the way to describe it,” Gil said. “It was just stupid.”

“No way, dude. Now her second sitcom, in the eighties, that one was stupid,” Joe said, then took a large drink of his Mountain Dew. “She was, like, this single divorced mom who had a kid, but when the kid wasn’t cute anymore they did a Cosby Show and brought in a younger kid for the cute factor.”

“What was the name of that show?”

“It was called Word to Your Mother, like from the Vanilla Ice song,” Joe said. “She did some movies, too. I think she was in one of the Conan movies with Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Joe’s voice went down an octave, and he said with a fake German accent, “What is best in life? To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.”

“Is that from the movie?”

“Dude, that’s like a classic line,” Joe said.

“Oh please, a classic movie line is like ‘What is your major malfunction?’ ” Gil said.

“You pull out a Full Metal Jacket line on me? Well, I’ll take some of that action, ‘Only steers and queers come from Texas.’ What do you say to that?”

“A day without blood is like a day without sunshine,” Gil said, smiling.

“Damn, Montoya, I never had you figured for a war movie guy,” Joe said, actually impressed. “What about having a wife and kids? You can’t watch Full Metal Jacket with your little girls around.”

“I can when they go to bed,” Gil said.

“Oh, I am finally learning all about the secret life of Detective Gilbertito Montoya,” Joe said, laughing. “What else do you do when your family is in bed? Make crank phone calls? Or maybe you call up that pretty girl from the newspaper?”

Gil said nothing but was annoyed. “Oh, dude,” Joe said as he saw Gil’s look. “It was a joke. I don’t really think you’re porking her. I can’t even joke about it?”

Gil said nothing and hoped that, for once, Joe would do the same.

Gil turned onto a dirt road and drove another quarter mile. He expected to see a mansion covered in huge windows that would allow the occupants to admire the beautiful vistas of the valley below. Instead, they came upon a large gate set in an eight-foot-tall razor-wire fence. At the gate was a guard shack painted white. There was nothing to be seen but woods. No house. No cars. No nothing.

A woman came out of the shack and headed toward their car. She was dressed in a cobalt blue turban and pajama-like shirt and pants in the same color. Around her waist was a burnt orange cummerbund with a small jeweled dagger tucked into it.

Gil heard Joe say next to him, “Well, what the hell is this?”

The woman came up to the driver’s side of the car, and Gil rolled down the window. The woman, who was Anglo and looked to be about forty, smiled and said, “Blessings and victory upon you.”

“Umm . . . thanks,” Joe said.

“We’re here to see Donna Henshaw,” Gil said, showing his badge. The woman smiled again and went back to the guard shack, where she got on a walkie-talkie. They were too far away for Gil to hear what she was saying.

“Is that an AR-15 on the wall?” Joe whispered just as Gil noticed a black rifle with a collapsing stock, laser sight, and pistol grip hanging in the shack.

“I think it’s an FAR-15, not an AR-15,” Gil said. He unsnapped his paddle holster but didn’t take out his .45 caliber Smith & Wesson. Joe hit the release of the shotgun bolted to the dashboard but left it sitting in its mount, then pulled out his own sidearm and held it down by his right side, where it couldn’t be seen. Gil watched the woman on the walkie-talkie, ready to unholster his gun the second she made a move toward the FAR-15.

Joe, staring intently at the rifle, said, “I think you’re right. My guess is it’s a clone. That would mean it has a ten-round magazine and fixed muzzle. I’m also going to guess it has a forward assist, which personally I’m not a fan of.”

Gil was watching, but also thinking of where he would put the seven rounds he had in his Smith & Wesson and whether the car door would stop the high-velocity