Layne rounded the desk, pulled out his gun and set it on the desktop, close, as he sat down.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Thought we could go out, get a beer, play some pool,” Ryker replied and Layne stared.

Then he asked, “Come again?”

“Pool. Beer. Women. We both got hot babes but that don’t mean we can’t look.”

“Not sure what keeps you in motorcycle boots and leather jackets but it’s four o’clock in the afternoon and I got two growin’ boys so I gotta work for a living,” Layne replied.

Ryker smiled his big, ugly smile again and stated, “Yeah, been askin’ ‘round about you. You’re like King Dick. The top of the Private Dick Heap. What you charge, bro, you could work three hours a day and still feed those two powerhouses.”

“I worked three hours a day, Ryker, wouldn’t have clients to pay those fees,” Layne returned.

Ryker shrugged, “Suit yourself.” Then he leaned forward and asked, “So what we workin’?”

Oh shit.

“We?” Layne asked back.

“Yeah,” Ryker lounged back in his seat, “we.”

“I think I told you already I work alone.”

“Now you work with me.”

“I skipped a part,” Layne informed him. “How’d that happen?”

“Baranski’s out of your old old lady’s house. That happened because of me. You think I do somethin’ for nothin’?”

Fuck.

“And payback is we partner up?” Layne asked.

Ryker shrugged again. “Sure, when I’m bored and I’m bored,” he answered. “So what we workin’?”

Layne heard the bathroom door open and Ryker shot out of his chair, his hand going behind his back, he pulled out his .45.

Fuck!

“Honey?” Vera called.

“In here, Ma,” Layne called back and then said low to Ryker, “Stand down.”

Ryker relaxed and shoved his gun back right before Vera hit the door. She looked up at Ryker and her mouth dropped open.

“My,” she breathed, “you’re a big boy.”

“Ma, this is Ryker. Ryker, Vera Layne,” Layne introduced.

Ryker grinned his ugly grin and stuck out a meaty hand. “Ma’am.”

Vera took it and shook it, placing her other hand on top, saying, “Ryker. Is that your first name or your last?”

“Both,” Ryker replied and her eyebrows shot up.

“Both? You’re a one name man?” she asked and Ryker let go of her hand.

“Yep,” Ryker answered and Vera’s eyes shot to Layne.

“How neat!” she exclaimed. “I’ve never met a one name person before!”

Ryker turned his ugly smile to Layne.

Layne sighed.

Then he suggested, “Ma, how ‘bout you get your coffee, get your ass to the grocery store and buy a beef tenderloin for dinner.”

Vera stared at him and then stated firmly, “Beef tenderloin is for special occasions, Tanner, you know that.”

“Like you makin’ up for bein’ a bitch to Roc for the last week, an occasion like that?” Layne replied. “It’s her favorite, or, when you used to make it, it was.”

Vera was silent before she whispered, “Oh, right.”

Layne smiled at her to take the bite out of his earlier words. “Don’t forget the horseradish sauce and you can come in tomorrow and do my books.”

He watched his mother’s face light up. “Really?”

Jesus, only his mother, the nutcase CPA, would be excited about doing books.

“Yeah,” Layne said.

“Fantastic!” she cried then turned to Ryker and announced, “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she leaned in, grinned and said like she and Ryker shared an in-joke, “Ryker.”

Then she disappeared.

Layne looked to the monitors to watch his mother walk down the stairs as Ryker resumed his seat.

“Your Ma was a bitch to your babe?” Ryker asked and Layne’s eyes cut to him.

“Long story,” Layne mumbled.

“Bro,” Ryker grinned.

You understand my vision of justice, Ryker had said.

Layne stared at him but he didn’t spend much time doing it before he made a decision.

“You know TJ Gaines?” Layne asked.

“Who?” Ryker asked back.

“Youth Minister at the Christian Church,” Layne answered and the grin faded from Ryker’s face and Layne watched it go scary.

“Don’t know what that is,” Ryker said quietly, his voice lethal. “Just know that shit ain’t right.”

“Have you heard something?” Layne asked.

“Everyone in the ‘burg is whisperin’ about it,” Ryker responded. “No one likes it but no one’s got a handle on it.”

“Well, I’m lookin’ into it and now you are too.”

Ryker’s grin came back. “What you got?” he asked.

“Nothin’. Just an apartment at The Brendel. Don’t know if he lives there or if he visits someone there. Unit K. Apartment three. I need to know when I can get in so I need someone watching it. You need to get me intel on who the occupants are, how many there are, when they come, when they go and when I can get in to do a clean sweep. I don’t wanna toss the place. I need time to do it right but I gotta know when that time’ll be.”

“Brendel’s the ‘burg’s Fort Knox. Even pads on The Heritage don’t have that kind of security. And even if I manage to hang out and take notes which, bro, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m not exactly the kinda guy who fades into the woodwork, especially at a place like The Brendel, ain’t no way you’d get in.”

“They sensor the windows not the doors,” Layne replied.

“Hunh?”

“If they f**ked the security at Gaines’s place like they f**ked the security at Roc’s place, they sensored the windows on his balcony, not the doors.”

“Roc?”

“My woman.”

“Her name is Roc?” Ryker shook his head. “Bro, I got a good look at her and she don’t look like no rock to me. Nothin’ hard on her, all curves and soft.”

“Her name’s Raquel and, just a head’s up, maybe after I have a few beers and a game of pool, I might be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that but…” Layne hesitated and gave him a look. “Wait, no, I’ll never be okay with you talkin’ about my woman like that,” Layne warned.