On The Grind

Chapter 43

I exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and glanced out a window that overlooked the street. No white Kscaladc. No federal backup.

Apartment 456 was in the middle of the top-floor corridor on the courtyard side of the building. I carefully tried the doorknob. Locked.

It had a solid wood core so I didn't think I could kick it in.

I stood in the hallway looking for a likely hide-a-key spot. I checked over the doorjamb. Dust bunnies and spiders. No potted plants or wall art. I checked the fire-extinguisher box down the hall. Nada.

I certainly didn't want to climb up to the roof and try to rappel down onto the balcony like some character in a Bruce Lee movie.

It felt too much like comedy.

I also knew that if Alonzo didn't get the 911 call soon, he and Roulon Green would come looking. With the elevators broken, they'd probably also use the less-traveled fire stairs and would find Horace. I had used up too much valuable time already and knew I couldn't stand around scratching my head.

The damned roof gag boiled down to my only decent choice. I returned to the stairwell and looked down one flight at Velario, who was still cuffed to the railing with my socks in his mouth. His left eye was now swollen completely shut, but the other one was glaring up at me with murderous hatred.

"Comfy?" 1 whispered down at him.

Then I turned and climbed up the one additional flight and came out onto a flat, silver-painted roof. 'There was a half-moon lighting the night and I could see a minefield of hardware-store clutter up here. It looked as if the apartments' residents used this roof for a sundeck. Beach chairs and hibaehis shared space with several flourishing marijuana plants with protective signs that read HECTOR'S BUD or PROPERTY OF JUAN GARCIA-NO TOGA.

I picked my way across this campground of flowering happiness and crossed to the interior edge of the building, then walked along counting apartment windows below me until I got to the spot I hoped was directly above Rocky's balcony. I looked down at the dead citrus trees in the courtyard below. To do this, I was going to have to hang down from the rain gutter, dangling four stories up. I hated it, but there was no other way.

I lay on my stomach and slowly lowered myself over the edge, gripping the rain gutter with both hands and extending to my full five feet eleven inches. Then I searched for the balcony railing with my toes. After half a minute of this, the gutter started to pull loose, coming aw ay from the eaves of the roof with a loud metallic shriek.

It suddenly gave way and I crashed painfully onto the balcony below, landing on some wooden patio furniture, shattering a small glass-top table. Electric pain buzzed up my arm from my funny bone. I felt a sharp stab in my side like a rib had just broken.

I groaned and tried to collect myself. just then the door to the balcony flew open and Rocky was standing there butt-naked, fists up, read}' to kick my ass again. Despite the pain, I scrambled to my feet.

"You!" he said, quickly recognizing me from the jail.

He started to advance. I didn't want to waste any more of my blood on this guy, so I pulled the Para and aimed it at him with the safety still on.

"Stop," I ordered. "This isn't what you think."

Despite the automatic in my hand, Rocky was still advancing, about to deck me.

"juanito, what is it?" a woman's voice called from inside the apartment.

"I need four minutes," I said. "Put on a robe and listen to me."

"You're the cop with that culo Bell."

"Rocky, I'm not with Bell. Fin an LAPD officer working undercover inside the Haven Park PD. Your life is in danger. Not from me, from them. You need to hear what I have to say."

He still had his fists up.

"I was sent here to kill you, but I came to warn you instead. There are others outside the building to make sure I do the job. We don't have any time. I know you have no reason to trust me, but you've got to take a chance."

"You're the one holding the gun, and I'm supposed to take a chance?"

I needed to do something dramatic to turn him, so I handed the Para automatic over and said, "You hold it, then."

He stood there with the small automatic in his hand, trying to decide what to do. Then he turned his head and yelled, "Carmen. Put something on. We have company."