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PART I
CHAPTER ONE
LOS ANGELES
1996
HE GOT THE CALL AT AROUND NINE PM
“Unit 8A73 Come in, please”
“Yeah, this is 8A73”
The patrolhtthe rounds in West Hollywood and he was ready for his bed “What’s up?”
“We got a 911 Female Hysterical”
“Probably ot our anniversary yesterday She wants my balls in a jar”
“Your wife Spanish?”
“Nope”
“Then it ain’t her”
He yawned again
“Address?”
“Four-twenty Loma Vista”
“Nice neighborhood What happened, the h caviar on her toast?”
The operator chuckled
“Probably a DV”
Domestic violence
“Probably?”
“The lady was screa We’re sending backup, but you’re closest How soon can you guys be there?”
The patrolman hesitated Mickey, his partner, had ducked out of their shift early to hook up with yet another skank on Hollywood Boulevard Mickey got through hookers the way that other h socks He knew he shouldn’t cover for hiuy was like trying to swiainst a riptide What to do? If he adet canned But the alternative—showing up solo at a DV—wasn’t an appealing prospect either Violent husbands were not usually the LAPD’s biggest fans
Fuck it
“We’ll be there in five”
Mickey’s skank had better be worth it