A hand grabbed his shoulder as he started down the courthouse steps.
Rennie spun him around and said, “What was that stunt?”
“No stunt,” Steve said.
“Explain it to me.”
“No,” Steve said. He could feel incipient rage dripping off Rennie, like sweat from a bull.
“Your ice is getting thin,” Rennie said.
“Where’d you get that? Buford’s Book of Insults?”
“You are in this up to your neck.”
“What page is that on?”
“Shut up.”
Steve turned and took the steps two at a time.
“Johnny’s gonna be in touch with you,” Rennie called after him. “Bet on that.”
He didn’t have long to wait. He was back in his office when Johnny called, a little past ten. “You in your office?”
“I’m right here,” Steve said.
“Then you stay there.”
Johnny arrived fifteen minutes after the call. Didn’t bother knocking before he came in.
“You want to tell me what you’re doing?” Johnny said. He was not in a smiling, good-brother mood.
Not that Steve expected it. He was sitting at his desk and offered Johnny a chair. Johnny didn’t move.
“I’m not repping Cullen,” Steve said. “That’s all.”
“Why not?”
“Because he and that goof Rennie are the worst liars I’ve ever seen.”
“Come on.”
“And I’ve seen some pretty bad ones.”
“Yeah?”
Steve just stared at him. Until he got it.
“Oh,” Johnny said, “you’re calling me a liar now. Is that it?”
“What else am I supposed to think?” Steve stood, walked around his desk. “When have you been up front with me?”
“I never lied to you.”
“Really? How about just holding back the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“Back off, Steve.”
He realized he was almost literally in Johnny’s face.
Johnny said, “Didn’t I tell you to be patient? Didn’t I tell you to trust me and wait? Why didn’t you come to me before pulling this?”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“How do you know? You don’t even know how much you don’t know, do you?”
“You want to run that by me again?”
“Haven’t I been looking out for you?”
“Have you?”
Johnny slapped his sides. “See that? See how you’re talking? I haven’t even told you about that little problem you had with a former client.”
“What former client?”
“The former client who won’t be sending around people to bother you anymore.”
Steve went cold. Mendez.
He sat on the edge of his desk. Light-headed. “How?”
“You don’t think we know guys in the joint? Steve, look at me.”
Steve turned away.
“If you would’ve just waited, Steve. There’s so much I want you to know, but at the right time.”
“The time is now, Johnny. Otherwise, I’m outta here.”
“Come on — ”
Now Steve faced him again. “I mean it. No more hiding. I want to know exactly why you tracked me down and pulled me in.”
“I told you. The feds are breathing down our necks.”
“Why?”
“Why do they do anything? Because they can.”
“Maybe they care about ritual murder.”
“What?”
“Do you know anything about gang murders in LA? Where certain gang members were treated like bananas?”
“What’s that mean?”
“Skins removed.”
Johnny’s face stayed impassive. “Steve, who have you been talking to?”
“Why don’t you answer my question first?”
“What are you doing this for? Isn’t the money good enough? Have I done you wrong in any way?”
“I don’t know what you’ve done, that’s the problem.”
“It doesn’t have to be a problem.”
But it was. And the bigger problem was located at Beth-El, sitting in a wheelchair, working Johnny like a puppet master. This couldn’t end well.
“Johnny, listen to me. You think about this. Come to LA. Walk out of this whole thing, come out and we’ll get a place together and I’ll help get you a job. We’ll start all over again.”
“Are you nuts?”
“Why not?”
“I’ll just be another ex-con in LA. What I’ve got here is what I’ve waited my whole life to get. There’s a lot of money that’s going to be made, Steve, and you’ll have a big share.”
“Money made how? Not from church offerings. What enterprises have you got going that I don’t know about?”
“This is where I have to ask you to trust me again, Steve.”
“That’s not good enough anymore.”
“It has to be,” Johnny said.
Steve shook his head. “Come with me, Johnny. Please.”
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes.” At that moment, he decided. He had to get out. Even if it meant losing his brother again.
Johnny didn’t speak for a long time. He walked to Steve’s window, looked out.
“Do me one favor,” Johnny said. “Just one. Think about it for one night. Talk to me again in the morning. Will you do that much for me, Steve?”
“It won’t make any difference.”
Johnny turned around. “It might. That’s all I’m asking.”
Well, he wasn’t going to be leaving in the next ten minutes anyway.
“All right,” Steve said. “One night. But I can’t promise I’ll change my mind.”
Johnny smiled. “That’s my brother. You’ll see. It’ll be better tomorrow.” He paused, then nodded and went out the door.
Better tomorrow? Not likely. Not better, ever.
Steve loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and fell on the sofa. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that everything was normal again. That he was a good lawyer at last and didn’t have recurring hunger for drugs or liquor.
And had a brother he could trust.
At some point he dozed off.
When he awoke he wanted to see Sienna. Right away. And Gincy. And Nick Nolte. He missed his cat. Was anybody feeding it?
He could go find out right now. Why not? He had no pressing engagements. Not now. All he had was four walls closing in.
Sure. He’d drive to his old building and say hello to Mrs. Stanky and go to the drugstore for her. He’d buy some milk and feed Nick and unload his troubles.
He’d call Gincy and Sienna. Maybe have dinner with her. Maybe she’d be glad to this time.
Whatever happened, the drive itself would do him good. Get him out on the road and feeling that sense of motion.
And not let anything gain on him.
He grabbed his keys.