Hideout

Once you've had a gun pointed at you, there's no turning back.

I've been lying low today. Safe in the confines of my office, with The Twins watching my back, I'm bullet proof. Nothing could go wrong. Thompson wouldn't dare try to take me down on my own turf. I was convinced that I'd seen the last of him for a while. But then the phone rang.

Heart beating like some sick carnival parade, I answered. It's another new case. Perfect timing, it'll give me an excuse to stay low. Between Baltams nagging and Thompson's bullets, I like the idea of some downtime.

I headed out to meet the new client, some guy calling himself Seth. I took The Twins with me, of course. Faith & Providence felt cool inside my jacket, a reassuring weight. Seth was a tall man with shifty eyes. I didn't trust a word he said, but his cash was as good as any. He wants me to dig some dirt on a cousin of his. Nothing to do now but run some routine background checks.

I walk back into the office, one hand resting on Providence. The place is still standing. Even the mail doesn't explode when I open it.

4C07 runs through my mind. I write it on the back of my hand, on my files, scratch it into the desk. It's a clue, if only I can figure out what it means.