KaneThe next day, Sanderson and Mahoney – the two detectives who’d hassled us earlier – were waiting for me at the clubhouse when I got there. I got off my bike, took off my helmet, and tried to keep the irritated expression off my face.
“Mornin’, officers,” I said, walking toward them. “Can I help you with something?”
Neither one looked too pleased to see me, but then again, when did cops ever look happy to see men like myself. Rarely did we bring good news. The same could be said about cops, too, though. I was just trying to be pleasant and as cooperative as possible, hoping they wouldn't hook me up and cart me away today. The last thing I needed was a couple of cops taking me in again. That would only serve to give the Incas even more reason to be suspicious of us. And all I wanted t
