Page 45 of The Proving Ground

“I think I’ll pass. I won’t be staying long anyway.”

“Okay, so what’s up?”

“Is Maggie here?”

“No, she’s still at work.”

“Good. I wanted to talk alone.”

I could tell there was something tweaked about him. Cisco was a stoic man, but that meant he let stuff build up inside until he had no choice but to let it out. I sensed this was one of those times. I closed the front door but we remained standing in the entranceway.

“What’s going on, big man?” I said.

“Look, Mick, we go back a long time,” Cisco started. “I mean, you stood as best man at my wedding to your ex. We’ve been through it. So I just want to say, if you want me to quit, just say the word and we’ll shake hands and go our separate ways.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want you to quit. We have a major trial coming up and another case lined up after that. Why would I want you to quit?”

“Because maybe you don’t need me. This whole move to civil means I’m doing less and less PI stuff for you. You now got McEvoy running lead on the discovery stuff. Lorna tells me you’re calling Bamba Bishop. I mean, I don’t know what that’s about, but I’m beginning to wonder where I stand.”

In that moment I knew I had messed up with him. This was Employee Relations 101 and I had blown it.

“Tell you what, let’s have that beer,” I said.

I led him to the kitchen, where I took two tall cans of GuinnessZero out of the fridge and two tulip pint glasses out of the freezer. Before I said a word, I took the time to slowly pour the first glass, carefully building the head, then handed it to him.

After the second pour we clinked glasses and drank. There was no place to sit in the kitchen. I leaned back against the counter while Cisco stood in the middle of the room.

“Holy shit,” Cisco said, foam in his mustache.

“Like the real thing, huh?” I said.

“Fucking A. How do they do it?”

He held up the can and looked at it as if the answer might be written on it.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But they know what they’re doing. Just like you, Cisco. I don’t want you to quit. Are you nuts? I need you, man. The workload may be lighter these days but it will pick up once we win this. McEvoy is here for the one case and I’m tapping his expertise. But it doesn’t take away from your value. And Bamba was nothing. I just wanted to see how he was doing. I apologize if I made you feel like you’re second string. You’re not—far from it.”

Cisco nodded. I think he’d heard what he needed to hear. There was a small hint of a smile on his face.

“Okay, Mick,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

He drank down half his glass in one long gulp, then set the glass down on the counter.

“Okay, I’m gonna go, then,” he said. “Thanks for the beer.”

I liked how he didn’t linger. He’d gotten the answer he was looking for and now he was moving on.

“Anytime,” I said.

I walked him out to the front deck, carrying my beer. He started down the steps to the street. I saw his Harley parked down there.

“Hey, Cisco, do me a favor,” I called after him. “Coast down the hill before you start that machine up.”

He waved a hand over his head, which I took as a signal that he had heard me and would do as requested. I moved to the corner of the deck and leaned my elbows on the railing. I sipped my beer and looked out at the city lights. The Sunset Strip glowed like a dream. There was still a slight scent of smoke in the air from the Runyon Canyon fire, but I wondered if I was just imagining that.

I looked down and watched Cisco glide silently down Fareholm on his old panhead. I could make out the orange flames painted on the gas tank and wondered if that was still a good look, considering recent history. He took the curve to the right and disappeared. That was when I heard the V-twin rumble to life. I smiled and was happy we’d had the conversation we’d just had.

I stayed out there in the chill evening air until Maggie came home. She had apparently changed at the office from her work clothes, and was wearing blue jeans, Doc Marten boots, and the sweatshirt I had gotten at one of the World Series games in October. It reminded me of what the city had been through in just a few months, from the high of a World Series championship to being laid low by the fires of January.