“Santanas were due in a few days, and when those hot dry winds blew in off the Mojave, they would dry up the ooze as fast as it dribbled out the waste pipes of the little factories up the road. It was probably thinking about industrial waste that made him notice the battered old pickup truck, pied with primer and paint stains, that was parked just across the creek. He lingered a bit on the bridge. Two men sat in the pickup, but he really only noticed the driver, who had bright red hair in a buzz... cut. For just a moment the driver had braced a big pair of binoculars on the steering wheel. Jack Liffey had acquired an extra measure of caution after a run-in with a couple of minor heavies who’d worked for Vegas casino money. He was pretty sure he’d got himself clear, but he figured it never hurt you much to whistle when you passed a graveyard. His office was on the second floor of the mini-mall straight ahead, wedged between a CPA and a vacancy that had briefly been a clown-and-juggler service, and the redhead had looked straight at his office door.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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