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confidential. Attorney-client privilege,” Black said, his voice serious even as he made it up on the spot. “So what’s it going to be?”
    The elevator slid open with a hiss and she turned to face him, hands on her hips, trying to decide. He shrugged and pressed the lobby button.
    She stepped out. “Fine. Let me call Bobby and see what this is all about.” Black followed her, his authority now established. He trailed her down the long corridor, admiring her fluid stride, to where three sumo-sized men stood with arms folded across their chests, dressed head to toe in black, about as subtle as charging rhinos.
    “Mr. Black. Could you have a seat? This won’t take more than a moment.” She walked past the men, down the hall, and made a quick call on her cell before returning to him, her body language more relaxed. “All right. Everything’s cleared up. Sorry if I came off overly protective.”
    “Not a problem, Miss Obrador. We all have our jobs to do.”
    “Yes, we do. And it’s Genesis.”
    “Biblical, huh?”
    “No, actually. My mom’s favorite singer at the time I was born was Phil Collins. I’m lucky I’m not named Phyllis. Or Collie.”
    “Genesis is a beautiful name.”
    “Thanks. Do you want to go inside and meet our leader?”
    “That’s what I’m here for.”
    Genesis escorted him to the door under the baleful gaze of the three muscle men, twisted the handle, and pushed it open for him. Black entered and immediately smelled the sweet tang of marijuana. Four young men sat lounging on the two chairs and the couch. All eyes swiveled to the new arrival. B-Side glared at Black, interrupted in the middle of a joke.
    “You must be B-Side. I’m Black. Bobby sent me,” Black announced.
    The entourage burst out laughing, and the closest one to Black fixed him with a malevolent stare. “You about as black as Jay Leno, homie. Whatchou talking about, you black? You got a death wish, coming up here dressed like dat an saying you black?”
    Black gave him a humorless smile. “Black’s my name. Jim Black.” He stepped forward to B-Side and handed him a business card. “Like I said, Bobby asked me to drop by.”
    B-Side glanced at Black’s information and tossed it aside. “What you thinkin’ you gonna do my homies ain’t? You got mad kung fu skills, gonna keep my ass safe?”
    “Well, for starters I make my living as a private investigator, and I’ve been alive about twice as long as you and your buddies, and I’m not lit up on weed all day long, so between the experience and being straight, I’d say I’m your best shot. But hey – if you think everything’s cool and you’re all good, that’s fine. I’ve done Bobby the favor he asked, and I can find the exit, no harm done. Your call.” Black paused. “I’d just stay away from eating or drinking anything for the rest of your life. Or have one of these guys taste everything, and if they’re not dead within an hour, it’s probably fine. You fellas wouldn’t have a problem with that, would you?”
    The largest of the four made to get up, and for a moment Black thought he might have a real problem on his hands. Then B-Side started laughing and the tension in the room abated. “Yo, you a real hard-on, ain’t you, coming up in here dressed like the Exorcist or something.” His attention shifted to his friends. “Everybody, I needs some time to consultate with my man Black here. Gimme a little privacy, okay?”
    The youths grumbled and postured, but dutifully left – B-Side paid the tab, so he got what he wanted. When the door closed, he raised the back of his bed a bit more and studied Black with clear eyes. Black looked around the room, snagged a chair, removed his hat, and sat down facing the rapper.
    “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, so I understand what I’m up against here?” Black said.
    B-Side nodded, and stared at a faraway point on the ceiling before picking up a plastic cup and sipping some water through the