I nodded.
“Okay, and you can’t think of any reason you might be on his radar in regard to Gloria Dayton, right?”
“No, no reason.”
“You told me yesterday that one of the services you provided was to bring cocaine. Gloria and Trina got theirs from Moya. Where did you get yours?”
Kendall slowly finished the piece of California roll she was eating and then put her chopsticks down on the little stand next to her plate.
“I really don’t like talking about this,” she said. “I think you brought me here so I would feel cornered and have to answer.”
“No,” I said quickly. “That’s not true and I don’t want you to feel cornered. I’m sorry if I’m pushing this too far. I just want to be sure you’re in the clear, that’s all.”
She wiped her mouth with her napkin. I had a feeling the dinner was over.
“I need to go to the restroom,” she said.
“Okay,” I said.
I stood up and pushed my stool back so she would have room for egress.
“Are you coming back?” I asked.
“Yes, I’ll be back,” she said curtly.
I sat back down and watched her as she made her way to the hallway in the back. I knew she could leave through a rear door and I wouldn’t know it for ten minutes. But I had faith.
I pulled out my phone to see if my daughter had answered my text but she hadn’t. I thought about texting her again, maybe sending her a photo of the California roll from Katsuya but decided not to push it.
Kendall returned in less than five minutes and slid silently back onto her stool. Before I could speak, she made a statement that she had apparently worked out in the restroom.
“I got the product that I brought to clients from Hector Moya but it was indirectly from him. I bought it from Gloria and Trina at their cost. I never once met their dealer or crossed paths with a DEA agent while I was in that life. It’s something I’ve left behind and I don’t want to have to talk about it with you or anybody else again.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Kendall. I under—”
“When you asked me to dinner I was very happy. I thought . . . I thought it was for a different reason and I was excited. So that’s why I reacted the way I did when you asked about the drugs.”
“I’m sorry I messed things up. But believe me, I was excited, too, when you said you would meet me. So why don’t we forget about all the work stuff and eat some sushi?”
I gestured toward the platter. Most of our order was still there. She smiled tentatively and nodded. I smiled back.
“Then we need more sake,” I said.
25
On the way back home I decided to let the cab take me all the way to my door. I was tired from the work and news of the day and the hike up the trail at Fryman Canyon. I figured even if someone was watching my house and car, he would only be able to puzzle over where I’d been for the last four hours. I paid the fare, got out, and climbed the stairs to the front door.
At the top I paused to look out across the iridescent landscape. It was a clear night and I could see all the way to the lighted towers in Century City. It reminded me that somewhere near those towers in the lowlands was where Sly Fulgoni Jr. made his pitiful stand in the land of law.
I turned and looked over my other shoulder toward downtown. Farther away, the lights seemed less vibrant, having to fight their way through the smog. I could, however, see the glow of lights from Chavez Ravine—a home game for the Dodgers, who had started the season abysmally.
I opened the door and went in. I was tempted to put on the radio and listen to the ageless Vin Scully call the game but I was too tired. I went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, pausing for a moment to look at the postcard from Hawaii on the fridge. I then went directly to my bedroom to crash.
Two hours later I was on a black horse galloping out of control across a dark landscape lit only by cracks of lightning when my phone woke me.
I was in bed, still fully clothed. I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember the dream when the phone rang again. I reached into my pocket for it and answered without looking at the display. For some reason I expected it to be my daughter, and a tone of desperation infected my hello.
“Haller?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Sly Fulgoni. Are you all right?”
The deeper timbre in the voice told me I was talking to Sly Sr., calling in from Victorville again.
“I’m fine. How’d you get this number?”
“Valenzuela gave it to me. He doesn’t like you too much, Haller. Something about unfulfilled promises.”
I sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the clock. It was two ten.
“Yeah, well, fuck him,” I said. “Why are you calling me, Sly? I’m coming up to see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, not so fast, smart guy. I don’t like you threatening me. Or my son, for that matter. So we need to get a few things straight before you make the long drive up here.”
“Hold on.”
I put the phone down on the bed and turned on the bed lamp. I opened the bottle of water I had retrieved before going to sleep and drank almost half of it down. It helped clear my head.
I then picked up the phone again.
“You there, Sly?”
“Where else am I gonna go?”
“Right. So what things do we need to straighten out?”
“First of all, this co-counsel bullshit you laid on young Sly. Not going to fly, Haller. Moya’s ours and we’re not sharing.”
“Have you really thought this out?”
“What’s to think out? We’ve got it covered.”
“Sly, you’re in prison. It’s going to reach a point where the paper on this is finished and somebody’s got to go to court. And do you really think young Sly is going to walk into federal court, go up against government lawyers and the DEA, and not have his head handed to him?”
There was no immediate answer, so I pressed it further.
“I’m a father, too, Sly. And we all love our kids, but young Sly is working off of the scripts you provide him right now. There is no script when you get into a courtroom. It’s do or die.”
Still no response.
“I didn’t have an appointment when I dropped by the office today. I don’t know exactly what he was doing but it wasn’t lawyer work. He’s got nothing on the calendar, Sly. He’s got no experience and he can’t even answer questions about this case. Those depos you want scheduled for next week? My guess is he’ll get the questions—every question—from you.”
“Not true. That’s not true.”
His first objection to anything I had been saying.
“All right, so he’ll write some of his own questions. It’s still your depo and you know it. Look, Sly, you’ve got a credible cause of action here. I think this could work but not unless you’ve got somebody going in there who knows his way around a habeas hearing.”
“How much you want?”
This time I paused. I knew that I had him and was about to close the deal.
“You’re talking about money? I don’t want any money. I want cooperation on my guy. We share information and we share Moya. I may need him on my case.”
He didn’t respond. He was thinking. I decided to jump in with my closing argument.
“Speaking of Moya, you really want him sitting next to young Sly if this thing goes the wrong way in court? You want him looking at your son when he wants someone to blame after a judge sends him back to Victorville for the rest of his life? I heard some stories today about Moya back in his Sinaloa days. He’s not the kind of guy you want near your son when things turn south.”
“Who told you those stories?”
“Agent Marco did. He visited me, just like I’m sure he visited Young Sly.”
Sly Sr. didn’t respond but this time I didn’t interrupt the silence. I’d said all I had to say. Now I waited.
But it didn’t take long.
“When will you get here?” Sly Sr. asked.
“Well, it’s the middle of the night. I’m going to go back to sleep now and sleep late. Maybe eight o’clock and then I’ll head up there. I’ll process in when I get there, maybe get in to see you before lunch.”
“Lunch around here is at ten-fucking-thirty. I used to have a one-o’clock table every day at Water Grill.”
I nodded. The little things are missed most.
“Okay, then I’ll see you after lunch. First you, then Moya. You remind him that this time I’m on his side. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“See you then.”
I disconnected the call and switched over to the message app. My daughter had still not responded to the message I had sent her almost six hours before.
I set the alarm on the phone for seven and put it on the nightstand. I stripped off my clothes and this time got under the covers. I lay on my back, thinking about things. My daughter, then Kendall. She had kissed me again when we’d separated outside the door of Katsuya. I felt as though things were changing in me. As though I was closing one door and opening another. It made me sad and hopeful at the same time.
Before drifting off I remembered the black horse racing across the field of lightning. I had been holding on to its neck because there were no reins. I remembered holding fast and hanging on for dear life.