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you’re here now. I’ve been demoted to second-to-last hope. Make the calls.”

CHAPTER 7
    It took three calls, Burch driving around with a closed moonroof and the lights in the backseat off. Four if you count the one to Gil to tell him we weren’t picking him up.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI’ll explain later.”
    â€œOh, fuck me.”
    â€œWhat’s that mean?”
    â€œAre you still with Eddie?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDon’t say or do anything else. Just get dropped off and let me deal with him tomorrow.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œI’m going to sleep. Please,
please
don’t let me wake up to bad news.”
    â€œSweet dreams.”
    â€œI mean it. Don’t trust him.” Gil hung up.
    Burch said, “You’ll explain this later, huh?”
    â€œI’ll come up with something.” I looked out the window and caught a weak reflection. We were both disgusted and looked away.
    Eddie was glazed, staring through the windshield and rubbing his throat.
    â€œNeed me to dial?” Burch said.
    I poked the first number in and wondered what would happen to Burch’s head if I punched and kicked it at the same time. The phone rang while I considered the shape of his skull, where it might come apart. The first two calls were a few minutes each of catching up, apologizing, convincing that I was actually very sorry for whatever it was I did.
    Really, I mean it.
    The third went to Walt Burrell, head of Vegas operations for Gauntlet Security. Gauntlet specialized in close-quarters VIP protection—moving sheiks and princes and celebrities around without any grubby civilian fingers getting near them. Walt was close to fifty, a retired Marine with lines on his face from years in the weather and thinking just about everything he said was hilarious.
    I apologized to Walt, then went through the dialogue that drew a blank from the first two calls. “You know I’m fighting for Warrior now?”
    â€œYeah,” Walt said, “congrats on that. You got the face for it, might as well.”
    Eddie watched me. He knew the next line.
    â€œHeard some talk they might be under new management soon.”
    Walt spent a few seconds breathing into the phone. “I heard that too. Pisser, huh? All our jobs are going overseas.”
    â€œMy phone’s about to die. You at the office?”
    â€œYou’re coming by?”
    â€œI can be there in twenty minutes.”
    Burch held a finger up.
    â€œMake that one hour,” I said.
    Burch nodded.
    Walt’s breathing stayed slow and level through the phone. “You and who else?”
    â€œI’m with a couple buddies. They won’t break anything.”
    â€œWhere’ve I heard that before?”
    â€œI said I was sorry.”
    â€œSee you in an hour.”
    I put my phone away.
    Eddie sipped his water. “Who’s this guy?”
    â€œI worked security for him. Off the books, protecting assholes his company wanted to bill but didn’t want to be seen with.”
    â€œWhich company?”
    â€œGauntlet.”
    Eddie kicked the dashboard. “Fuck that.” It sounded like skin was flapping inside his throat. “I called them after the whole thing with Kendall. Did everything but beg them for security. They said they couldn’t help me.”
    â€œNot even off the books?”
    â€œNo. Same shit as all the other companies.”
    â€œMan. All the scumbags I had to protect—one of ’em turned out to be wanted for genocide—and Walt won’t come near you.”
    â€œHey, fuck you and fuck Gauntlet.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll call back, tell him to forget it.”
    â€œNo,” Burch said. “Mr. Takanori, if it helps me keep you alive, we need to talk to this man.”
    Eddie pouted into his water. He closed his eyes and worked on breathing through his bloody nose.
    I leaned forward and looked at Burch. “What are we