Book Excerpts

Henry stood at the foot of the bed at Los Angeles County Hospital. A sick feeling swept over him. Mac lay flat on his back in a rumpled, blood-spotted hospital gown. He was as close to dead as anyone could be without actually croaking. His lips and cheeks were stitched and bruised. A patchwork of gauze covered his face. His left eye was swollen shut and he was missing at least one front tooth, maybe two. The guys who’d worked him over had done a good job of it.

He had told Henry he thought someone was following him. Now here he was in the hospital. After giving him the pounding, the Mafia goons told him to pass the word along to Dutch that he’d better sell out now or he’d be next.

Mac drew in shallow pulls of air. His words came out fragmented. Henry leaned in to hear him.

“I’m hurtin’ real bad, Henry. I...uh...don’t think I’m going to make it. They wouldn’t stop. I begged them, ‘no more, please... please,’ but...but they just wouldn’t lay off.”

 “Christ, pal. I can’t believe this.”

 Oh shit, it hurts so damned much. What’s going to happen to me? Who’s going to help? Can I count on you, Henry?”

 “You bet,” Henry said. “You name it and I’ll be there.”

 Like hell he would, Henry thought. Mac had no right to even ask for help. He was the one who’d brought Lonnie into Kelsey’s that afternoon and with a mere flicker turned the monster loose on him. If he hadn’t found a way to pay off his gambling debts, he’d be in a wheelchair today. Mac sure didn’t give a damn about him that afternoon at Kelsey’s. In a real sense, Mac had this beating coming. He’d spent years putting the hurt on other guys. Why shouldn’t he take a turn in the barrel?

"Hi, honey,” Phyllis said as she entered the room. “It’s dark in here. May I turn on some lights?”

 “Sure. What are you doing downstairs? I thought I wouldn’t see you till the morning.”

 “Oh, I tried to nap, but a half dozen cups of coffee and chatting with all those people has me wound tight as a new spool of thread.” She took a seat in a chair across from her daughter. “I really like this house, honey. It’s so comfortable. It’s meant to be lived in and used.”

 “Michael loved it. When he bought the old place two years after he’d come to California, he had plans to turn it into a palatial showcase. You know, to impress his Hollywood friends and clients. But for years he barely touched the house. When we decided to make this our home, our goal was to create a highly livable, private getaway away from the craziness of showbiz. Michael always

said he couldn’t care less if we never had visitors, and we rarely did.”

 “That sounds like him. He was a special person, that’s for sure. As a little girl, you always said you’d marry a handsome prince. And you did. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

 “You mean wasn’t I the lucky one,” Lilly said. She glanced down at the wedding ring on her finger and a rueful frown touched her lips.