Ann said, as I walked her toward the Cigarette. “I even got us a driver for the night,” I told her, so she wouldn’t spook when I opened the back door for her. “And got all dressed up, too,” she tossed back, making an approval-face at my dove-gray alpaca suit. Michelle had made me buy it before I went hunting for the man who’d changed my face with a bullet. It had cost a fortune, but everything she’d said about it was right. Maybe it didn’t transform my appearance, but it sure answered any questions about my financial standing. Flacco was behind the wheel, Gordo in the front passenger seat. Neither of them said a word, looking straight ahead. As soon as they heard the door close, they took off, slow and smooth. The big SUV rode like a taut limo. “Do you think—?” Ann started to ask, before I cut her off with a finger against her lips. She nodded that she understood. Flacco and Gordo had end-played me perfectly. Anytime a man offers to back your play, you’re cornered.
