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I was shocked to see Mike when I arrived at the LA airport. He had always been a powerful man, six feet tall and a rock-hard 170 pounds. Now, he looked gaunt and older. He was 30 pounds lighter, his face was drawn, his skin sagging and sallow. The chemotherapy had caused him to lose his hair, although he always kept his head shaved so that was no big change. Most of all he had a tentativeness about him. Mike had always been so confident, now he had a tic in his cheek and a distracting habit of pursing his lips while he talked. But he was in good spirits. "Chemo over," he said, with a show of heartiness, "And I'm on the road to recovery."Mike had been divorced for many years and, like me, he had hopped in and out of a lot of beds. I could see the attraction women had for him. He had a way of giving a woman 100 percent of his attention – flattering, and also a bit intimidating. But, this time, as we met at the airport, and talked in the taxi enroute to his apartment it was clear to me. Where is it?”“Southern Road and Robert E Lee Street.”Steele buckled his belt and put on his shirt. While tucking it in, he said, “If you see me in town, you can’t let on that you know me. I’m a stranger to you. Understand?”Sally nodded. “What are you going to do?”“What I do best.”Steele sat on the side of the bed. “Will you be okay?” he asked.“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I was in a scary place, but I’m fine now.”Steele leaned over, kissed her forehead, and left. He drove back to the motel in the neighboring town.Wilks crossed his arms when Steele entered the motel room. “I thought I had two missing persons.”“Got some shut-eye at Sally’s. Didn’t want to leave her alone.”“How’s she doing?”“Better. I need to buy a pickup.”“What! Why?”“I need to blend in. And I’m changing motels so we’ll need two cars. We can’t be seen together.”The two visited three used car lots before finding a five-year-old black Ford pickup. The sales manager balked at a personal check so Steele had his bank wire the.
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