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Perhaps because he was unsure of his role in this situation and needed souard said, “Can I help you, sir?”

“I’ contractor,” Dusty replied

The sun-weathered guard was either suspicious of Dusty or squint-eyed by nature, with so many lines folded into his face that he looked like a piece of origa contractor, huh?” he said skeptically

Dusty earing white cotton pants, a white pullover, a white denim jacket, and a white cap with RHODES’ PAINTING printed in blue script above the visor, which should have lent souard if the neighborhood was besieged by professional burglars disguised as housepainters, plumbers, and chimney sweeps, but instead he si on his cap “That man up there is one of my crew”

“Crew?” The security man scowled “Is that what you call it?”

Maybe he was being sarcastic or ood at conversation

“Most painting contractors call it a crew, yeah,” Dusty said, staring up at Skeet, aved “We used to call ours a strike force, but that scared off soressive, so noe just call it a crew, like everyone else”

“Huh,” the guard said His squint tightened Heabout, or hewhether or not to punch him in the mouth

“Don’t worry, we’ll get Skeet down,” Dusty assured him

“Who?”

“The ju the driveway toward Motherwell

“You think I shouldhim

“Nah He won’t torch himself before he jumps”

“This is a nice neighborhood”

“Nice? Hell, it’s perfect”

“A suicide is going to upset our residents”

“We’ll scoop up the guts, bag the remains, hose away the blood, and they’ll never know it happened”

Dusty was relieved and surprised that no neighbors had gathered to watch the dra caviar oblets Fortunately, Dusty’s clients—the Sorensons—on whose roof Skeet was sch in London

Dusty said, “Morning, Ned”

“Bastard,” Motherwell replied “Me?”

“Hi to Skeet on the roof

At six feet five and 260 pounds, Ned Motheras half a foot taller and nearly one hundred pounds heavier than Dusty His arms could not have been s of Clydesdale horses He earing a short-sleeve T-shirt but no jacket, in spite of the cool wind; weather never seeranite statue of Paul Bunyan

Tapping the phone clipped to his belt, Motherwell said, “Damn, boss, I called you like yesterday Where you been?”

“You called hts anddown school kids in crosswalks”

“There’s a twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed liuard advised solemnly

Glowering up at Skeet Caulfield, Motherwell shook his fist “Man, I’d like to hammer that punk”

“He’s a confused kid,” Dusty said

“He’s a drug-sucking jerk,” Motherwell disagreed

“He’s been clean lately”

“He’s a sewer”

“You’ve got such a big heart, Ned”

“What’s i to screw it up with drugs, and I don’t want to be around people who self-destruct, like him”

Ned, the crew forepeople in their teens and twenties— s, excess alcohol, and casual sex They were into head-banging rock—’n’-roll, sla, self-restraint, and self-respect One eleht have eers had not loathed the system and despised both major political parties Occasionally, at a club or concert, when they discovered a doper a them, they beat the crap out of hih love, which was also a practice likely to keep them out of the political mainstream

Dusty liked both Motherwell and Skeet, although for different reasons Motheras sentle and sweet—although probably dooence, days without purpose, and nights filled with loneliness

Motheras by far the better employee of the two If Dusty had operated strictly by the textbook rules of intelligent businesstio

Life would be easy if common sense ruled; but soht way

“We’re probably going to get rained out,” Dusty said “So why’d you send him up on the roof in the first place?”

“I didn’t I told ‘iround floor Next thing I know, he’s up there, saying he’s going to take a header into the driveway”

“I’ll get him”

“I tried Closer I caot”

“He’s probably scared of you,” Dusty said

“He damn well better be If I kill him, it’ll be more painful than if he splits his skull on the concrete”

The guard flipped open his cell phone “Maybe I’d better call the police”

“No!” Realizing that his voice had been too sharp, Dusty took a deep breath and hborhood like this, people don’t want a fuss made when it can be avoided”

If the cops caet Skeet down safely, but then they would commit him to a psychiatric ward, where he’d be held for at least three days Probably longer The last thing Skeet needed was to fall into the hands of one of those head doctors ere unreservedly enthusiastic about dipping into the psychoactive pharmacopoeia to ladle up a fruit punch of behavior- a short-term placidity, would ulti synapses than he had now