Los Angeles, California
April
Nate wlked out of Vincennti's and slipped the claim check for his BMW through the window of the valet hut. Carlo, who'd been parking cars here for as long as Nate had been coming to the renowned bistro, grabbed his keys from among dozens hanging on the board behind him and joined Nate in the sunshine.
"How was your lunch, Mr. Shelton?" he asked.
Seeing no point in answering truthfully, Nate swallowed the first symptom of indigestion and said, "Just fine, Carlo." He glanced nervously over his shoulder to the restaurant entrance. "I am kind of in a hurry, though."
"Sure, I understand. Isn't everybody in this town?" Carlo jogged across the circular drive, the keys jangling in his hand, and zigzagged through a maze of vehicles.
Nate needed Carlo to return with his car before Brendan Willis and his associate finished the last of their pricey merlot and came outside. It was bad enough that Nate had paid the hundred ... read full excerpt from Return of the Wild Son ebook

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