Jag felt that in his throat.
So much, something he was not allowing himself to lock onto,he locked onto.
Hewasdealing with some shit.
Some major shit.
And Archie triggered it.
“I know,” he said to Dutch.
But that was all he could say.
For now.
“You’re always welcome, Jag.Look forward to meeting Archie.And it’ll be cool,” Dutch assured.
“Thanks, brother.”
“See you in a while,” Dutch said.
“Yeah.Later.”
“Later.”
They disconnected and Jagger took in a big breath, becausehe didn’t know what was up with him, he didn’t know if he wanted to know whatwas up with him.
But he had a feeling whatever it was, it was about to comeout.
Before he left her at her shop, Archie told him thatthe way to her place was the door to the side of the store.
So when he showed at six thirty, he went there.
There was a call box with four buttons, and Jag guessed theone that had a picture of Grace Jones next to it was Archie’s.
In other words, he was grinning when he hit the button.
There was a speaker on top of the call unit, and through itcame Archie’s voice.
“I’m door number two, brother.”
And then the door buzzed.
He opened it and it was heavy, no window, steel enforced,which was good, considering it was on Colfax.
He went in and was in the outer vestibule that was cut offfrom the inner by a code-lock door.
He saw color-block floors in big squares of white, black,gray and yellow, and the mailboxes were there, built into the wall.Fouracross, tall, but narrow with a large USPS lockbox underneath for the postmanto lock bigger packages.
His phone buzzed with a text that was from Archie.
9768, it said.
The code for the inner vestibule door.
He punched it in, the lock clicked, and he moved beyond thesecond secure area, seeing more color-block flooring, an orange tub with someumbrellas sticking out of it, and under the stairs was caged storage that had acouple of bikes locked behind it.
The walls were white, as were the stairs.The treads black.So were the doors.
