“I don"t like this at all, Smokey,” Mulrooney said to his partner as he looked at his cell phone. Killackey had texted him to say that Anya Gallien had called to say she needed to speak with him urgently. Wanting to meet with her adversaries was odd enough, Mulrooney figured, but now she was not answering her phone. Mulrooney immediately dialed again as he and Clarke sat in traffic with the rest of the late-day commuters as they neared the entrance point to the Vincent Thomas Bridge, which connects San Pedro to Long Beach.
Mulrooney was exasperated. And he wanted a drink. His brain sadistically reminded his taste buds of the flavor of a cold Guinness. He chased away the thought and chewed on his knuckle while he waited for Anya to pick up.
Mulrooney hung up again and sighed loudly. His w
