“So then this kid appears at the end of the alley, lookin’ like he’d just been runnin’. Not winded, right? Just still ready to move.”
Longarm took a long pull on his Bud. A gulp and a swallow followed, and then he continued. Cali just waited, knowing he’d get to it when he got to it.
“He’s got sunglasses on, that kinda hug his face, but he’s not wearin’ a costume or gear. Just a beat-up leather jacket, and faded jeans.”
“What did he have on his feet?”
“On his feet? What do I look like, some kinda metro-sexual-in-the-city? He’s wearin’ runners, he’s wearin’ frickin’ Manolo Blah-niks. Like I know what shoes he’s got on.”