The Good Daughter by Jean Brashear Page A

three rounds? Bet I can take you, not like when we were kids.”
    “Cut the crap. Tell me why you’d do something as stupid as sending me a postcard. To my house, man. What the hell were you thinking?” And how did you know where to find me?
    Tino’s feet stopped dancing. His arms dropped to his sides. “Hey, don’t worry about that. That wasn’t no prison thing. I found out from Leticia. You told her how to get in touch if she needed you.”
    Leticia. Tino’s old girlfriend, mother of his child. Vince had checked in on her and Tino Junior periodically to make sure she was all right.
    “Leticia wouldn’t give you the time of day,” Vince said.
    “She does now. She still loves me, man.” Tino scowled. “You been trying to move in on me, Vince?”
    “You know better than that.”
    Tino’s eyes still glittered too brightly. “Do I?” Menace trembled in the air, and Vince could feel how far away from their boyhood bond Tino had moved.
    Then Tino laughed. “Yeah—” He socked Vince on the shoulder, harder than strictly affectionate. “You wouldn’t poach. Leticia wants us to be a family now, her and me and little Tino Junior.”
    “That’s good,” Vince said. “Every boy needs a father.”
    “’Cept you and me, eh? We don’t need those rotten sonsabitches who ran out on us. You had it best—yours left before you knew him. That way he wasn’t knocking you around, you or your mama.”
    Their eyes met, and Vince knew Tino was thinking about the battered boy Vince had first met on the streets.
    Tino’s voice softened. “You were mi padre, Vicente, young as you were. You were the one who showed me how to make it on the streets.”
    Vince shook his head. “But I didn’t save you from them.”
    Tino’s juking and jiving stopped cold. “You could do that now, bro.”
    At last they were at the heart of why Tino had written.
    “I didn’t leave anything on that postcard that could tie it to me, so no one would make the connection. I was watchin’ your back, Vince. Just like always.”
    Vince didn’t argue, though he could have. Tino had been a skinny, scared kid who, more often than not, started the fights Vince had to finish to rescue him. “I appreciate that you were careful.” He studied Tino, already a bad feeling in his gut. “So what is it you need now?”
    “This ain’t for me. It’s for you. I got your dream operation, man. You’d be a hero for sure.”
    “Heroes are for comic books.”
    His friend leaned closer, the jittering under way again. “No, listen to me, man. This can work. See, I got my assignment from my area commander. The D.A.’s office is pushing the cop shop to turn up the heat on Los Carnales. Crackdowns are a pain in the ass and just make it harder to do business.”
    Los Carnales. Moreno’s bunch. Tino’s gang. Though his every nerve leaped to attention, Vince managed a simple shrug. “In case you haven’t heard, I’m not on duty right now.”
    “Oh, I know that. The boss knows that. He’s got a proposition for you.”
    A proposition from Moreno, the man he wanted to take down more than breath. Vince nodded for Tino to continue.
    “See, the boss hears you’re not getting much appreciation for the job you do. You put a lot of the boys in jail, but your own people ain’t givin’ you your propers for that. Word on the street is that your job is on the line. We can help you out.”
    The little prickle that always alerted Vince to danger zipped up the back of his neck. Adrenaline followed itwhenever he neared the center of the action, and already his heart rate was speeding up. Vince battled back the urge to let any of it show on his face. “I won’t be out of the game long. Just routine procedure.”
    Tino shifted on his feet. “Not what the boss is hearing. IAD’s after you, compadre. That’s why this is a great thing for you. Hear me out, man.”
    “I’m not promising anything, but go ahead.” For a moment he wished that he hadn’t met Tino in