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“I didn’t kill Bandy.”
“See? I don’t think they buy that, Griff. You were so pissed at him for ratting you out to the FBI, of course you killed him. You had a right to. Almost an obligation. Look, I understand. And so do they. A rat’s a rat. If you hadn’t snuffed him, Bandy might have given them up next.”
“So what’s their gripe?”
“They’ll never know for sure whether or not Bandy would have betrayed them. While you,” he said, poking Griff in the chest with his index finger, “you actually named names to the FBI. Their names. You see the problem? Their thinking is that Bandy
would have remained loyal to them if it hadn’t been for you. Regardless of how it all came down, they blame you for fucking up their smooth operation.”
“Gee, this is a sad story.”
Ignoring the remark, Rodarte went on. “You were bad for their business. For years after you got sent to Big Spring, they found it harder to entice a professional athlete anywhere in the southern United States. Players of every sport were nervous, afraid that if they cheated, they’d get caught like you did.”
Rodarte took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “The Vista boys, as you affectionately call them, haven’t fully recovered from the grief you caused them.”
“The grief I caused them?” Griff finally gave vent to the angry pressure that had been building inside him. “None of them served a day of time.”
“Only because the FBI was building their racketeering case around your testimony alone.” Rodarte gave a rueful shrug over the flaws in that strategy. “Your story didn’t fly with the federal grand jury. They figured you were trying to point the finger at others to take the heat off yourself.”
He poked Griff again. “That’s the only reason the Vista boys weren’t also indicted. But they came close. They haven’t forgotten how close. And all thanks to you. They’re sorta holding a grudge.”
“The feeling is mutual. Now, get out of my way.”
When Rodarte failed to back away, Griff tried to go around him. Rodarte sidestepped, blocking him. “But basically these are nice guys we’re talking about. They might welcome you back into the fold—on one condition.”
“Are you their recruiter now?”
Rodarte winked. “Let’s just say a word from me could grease the skids for you.”
“I’m not interested in getting back into the fold.”
“You haven’t heard me out.”
“I don’t need to.”
Rodarte dusted an imaginary speck off the lapel of Griff’s jacket. If the man touched him again, Griff thought he might have to break every bone in his hand.
“Take a piece of advice, Griff. Think about it.”
“I had five years to think about it.”
“So you won’t be working with them again?”
“No.”
“What about their competitors? The Vista boys are businessmen, after all. They’re nervous—just a little—over what you might do now that you’re out.”
“I’m thinking of opening a lemonade stand.”
Rodarte’s frown said that crack was unworthy of him.
“It’s none of their goddamn business, or yours, what I do,” Griff said.
“They beg to differ. Especially if you’re planning to link up with one of their competitors.”
“Relieve them on that score. They’ve got nothing to be nervous about. See ya, Rodarte.”
Again Griff moved away, but Rodarte scrambled and planted himself in his path. He moved in close and lowered his voice again, this time to a conspiratorial whisper. “Then there’s the matter of the money.”
