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glass.
     
    “What do you think about this gig?” he asked his father. “You trust her enough for this?”
     
    Hoosier took a long swallow of his whiskey before he answered. “I think we’ve been working with her for a year and a half, and she’s been straight up with us. She’s earned some trust.”
     
    “To ice a guy without knowing why, though. That’s an assload of trust.”
     
    His father turned and considered him. “You got qualms?”
     
    He didn’t, actually. He trusted La Zorra enough. She was too savvy and careful to go after a high-pro guy like this DA without an excellent reason, and if she was keeping that reason close to her chest, she had a good reason for that, too. He’d never known a cooler customer. “No. But others at the table will. She is asking a lot. The money won’t turn all their heads.”
     
    “Yep. Got some work to do.” His father narrowed his eyes and examined him. “The money turning yours?”
     
    Connor lit a smoke and took a drag, blowing it out before he answered. “No. The money’s great, yeah. But it impressed me more because it feels like respect. She needs a job done, and she pays to get it done, instead of throwing her weight around in threats. I like working with this woman. She has all her marbles. She gets that this is a job.”
     
    “Yeah, agreed. She’s pulling more and more power, though. At some point, they all start to believe their own legends. That’s when the shit meets the fan.”
     
    As his father tipped his glass to his lips again, Maria, one of the more established girls, came up behind Connor and slid her hands over his shoulders. “You hanging around tonight, Connor?” she purred in his ear.
     
    He liked Maria; she was a good girl, and she took care of the Horde, in any way they needed. She was hot, too. Normally, on a night like this, when he wasn’t planning to go out and catch himself a little bunny, he’d turn right around and take Maria up on her offer.
     
    But tonight, he wasn’t into it. He guessed his head was too full of this La Zorra business. And he was restless. He couldn’t put his finger on why. It was like he was lonely, or something. But not for the company of Maria.
     
    So he patted her hand. “Don’t think I am, puss.” When she kissed his cheek and headed off to find company elsewhere, he turned to his dad. “I think I might go to the house, see what Mom’s got in the fridge.”
     
    Hoosier drained his glass and pushed it away. “Now that sounds like a good night. Let’s roll.”

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    About eight years earlier, when Pilar was just coming into the department, during a period of relative prosperity for the state of California and with a big tax boon, the county had done a massive restructuring of emergency services. They’d opened new stations, eliminated the use of private ambulance services, and expanded platoon numbers.
     
    But prosperity always cycled with penury, and the state was now coming off a tight couple of years. Many public services had been curtailed and workers furloughed.
     
    That hadn’t been the case for emergency services. They’d avoided furloughs, and all the new fire stations had survived, but platoons had been cut and the work schedules at the fire stations had been adjusted to include a thirty-six-watch. After a thirty-six-hour watch, a platoon got three days off. The schedule was a mix of twenty-four and thirty-six-hour watches, with two or three days off between. A thirty-six hour watch could really be a bitch.
     
    There were plenty of watches that were mostly served in the station, doing maintenance and busy work, getting a good night’s sleep, eating good meals, working out, taking down time, maybe answering a couple of calls for a fender bender or some dope who’d gotten his arm caught in a fence or something. But there were also times, especially during the wildfire season, where the platoon spent almost all thirty-six hours in turnout gear, neck deep in