Smoke seeped from under the truck’s hood.
     Milo said, “Pull over.”
     The authentic damier canvas bags for cheap old man turned and watched us. His belt buckle was stippled brass, anoversized oval featuring a bas-relief horse head.
     “You okay, Mr. Bondurant?”
     “Why shouldn’t I be, Mr. Detective?”
     “Looks like an over-heat.”
     “It always does that. Pinhole leak in the radiator, long as I feed it fasterthan it gets hungry, I’m okay.”
     Bondurant shuffled over to the truck, reached in the passenger window, louis vuitton azur canvas bag outlet andtook out a yellow plastic jug of antifreeze.
     “Liquid diet,” said Milo. “You’re sure theblock won’t crack?”
     “You worried about me, Mr. Detective?”
     “Protect and serve.”
     “Find out anything about the girl?”
     “Still working on it, sir.”
     Bondurant’s eyes vanished in a mesh of fold and crinkle. “Meaning nothing,huh?”
     “Looks like you’ve been thinking about her.”
     The old man’s chest swelled. “Who says?”
     “This is the spot where cheapest louis vuitton damier ebene canvas you saw her.”
     “It’s also a turnoff,” said Bondurant. He hefted the antifreeze. Stared atthe brush. “Naked girl, it’s like one of those stories you tell in the serviceand everyone thinks you’re lyin’.” He licked his lips. “Few years back thatwoulda been something.”
     Sucking in his belly, he hitched his jeans. The roll of fat shimmered down,covered the horse’s eyes.
     Milo said, louis vuitton damier azur canvas bags “Know your neighbors?”
     “Don’t got any real ones.”
     “No neighborhood spirit around here?”
     “Let me tell you how it’s like,” said Charley Bondurant. “This used to behorse land. My grandfather raised Arabians and some Tennessee walkers—anything you could sell torich folk. Some of the Arabians made it to Santa Anita and Hollywood Park,a couple of ’em placed. Everyone who lived here was louis vuitton damier ebene handbags into horses, you couldsmell the shit miles away. Now it’s just rich folk who don’t give a damn aboutanything. They buy up the land for investment, drive up on Sunday, stare for acoupla minutes, don’t know what the hell to do with themselves, and go backhome.”