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“So,” she says, sucking her teeth and slamming her palms on the counter, “you need my expertise in the—how should we call it—criminal underbelly?”

I give a short laugh. “Something like that.”

“And I suppose you’ve already asked your biker friends what they know?” She lifts an eyebrow.

I sink my teeth into my lip, thinking of the scene not just a few minutes earlier. “They don’t know much,” I say. Then shake my head. “Well, Pan might. But he’s…not being cooperative. As you can tell.”

“Fucking of course he isn’t,” Zuzu says. “And I probably know better anyway.” She nods. “So. You’re right to call me. What’s going on?”

I fill her in as much as I can on the Wendy situation, gunshot murders, mysterious fire, some kind of shady dealings, and Wendy not wanting to reveal very much to me.

At that last point, Zuzu nods sagely. “It makes sense,” she says. “I can see why.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure,” Zuzu says. “These brothers are her family? She looks up to them. One day she finds out something unsavory and”—she makes an explosion sound and spreads her fingers in the air—“the illusion shatters. She may not want to know much after that, you know. She’s what, twelve years old?”

“Ten.”

Zuzu winces. “Even more so, then. That and—” She tips her head sideways. “Maybe they try to shield her.”

“Sure,” I say. I don’t know these guys from Adam, but I like to think that maybe they were good enough to do that for Wendy. Weren’t taking her along for drive-bys or drops. Just let her stay at home with Nana.

“Downside is,” Zuzu goes on, “that gives you…” She looks down at Wendy’s piece of loose leaf. “Not so much.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Not so much is right.”

Zuzu chews the inside of her cheek, stroking her chin. As she thinks, she glances up, catching Diamond’s eye, and swirls her finger in the air for another.

“Let’s try this,” she says, drink ordered. “From what I know, and just so we’re clear, this is all—” she pauses, searching for the word—“theoretical knowledge. Nothing I’ve seen, personally. We’re clear on this, yes?”

I nod.

“Okay.” Zuzu nods back. “But, yes. You kill someone like this, you want there to be no evidence. It’s not just that they’re dead, but that there’s no way to find out who did it, you see?”

“Sure,” I say. “That figures.”

“So probably not a kind of warning,” she says. “No calling card. Then what’s the point? You got to know who to call if you’re trying to scare someone. Take credit.”

I nod again. “Fair.”

“And also, not so much a killing for debt,” she goes on, “because dead man can’t pay. Only way that works is if maybe you seize some of their assets before they’re dead, and then take them out of the picture. But that’s not so much a negotiation tactic as it is a…”

“Hostile takeover?” I offer, as Diamond sets down the second vodka.

“Yes, exactly,” Zuzu says. She raps her acrylics on the side of the glass, a deep reddish purple set that gleams with magnetic glitter.

“Nice nails,” Diamond says. “You get them done around here? Because I’ve been looking for a new nail girl, and⁠—”

“Do them myself,” Zuzu says. “Look.” She extends a hand, points out a single finger, and digs under the nail bed with the thumb of the opposite hand. The nail pops free, leaving just a little bump on the nail bed itself. “They click in and out. Like so,” Zuzu says. “Handy for when I’m fighting and need short nails. Or”—she glances meaningfully up at Diamond—“other things.”

Diamond stares a bit blankly. “Oh,” she says. “Cool. Um, enjoy your drink.” She sweeps off to where a knot of guys is waiting at the end of the bar.

Zuzu sighs. “Eh, no good. A real girl’s girl would know what I mean by that. If you catch my drift.” She snaps the nail back into place. “But anyway, this is why I keep all of my business in LLCs, disinterested entities. You can kill me, but you will never take my Tigerlily. No matter what those casino bastards think.”

Jesus. “Okay,” I say, trying to steer the conversation away from Zuzu’s prospective murder. “So there’s a possibility, maybe, that they were holding on to something valuable, and whoever the killers are took it, and then…”

“And then,” Zuzu agrees, and draws a line across her throat with a single finger. She nods. “Yes, possible. What kind of business were they in? They own buildings, real estate?”