Behind the counter the wall was covered with liquor bottles, and the liquor bottles were covered with dust. The only ones that weren’t encased in grime were the strong, vile brews favored by those with deep thirsts but shallow pockets. The cheap corn whiskeys, the Bulgarian fortified wines, and the “malt beverages” made from grain alcohol sweetened with Kool-Aid twinkled brightly from a shelf the man behind the counter could reach without having to turn his back on the customer.

Not that he looked like he had any intention of turning his back on his customer. He stared across the counter at Gus, his ancient face crumpled into a permanent squint, one hand holding on to the tarnished register, either to keep it from walking out the door or to keep his knees from buckling, and the other just out of sight under the counter, undoubtedly fingering the shotgun hidden down there.

“You want something?” The owner’s voice was as cragged as his face.

This was the moment Gus had been dreading. The clues he’d been following had brought him here as surely as the Yellow Brick Road took Dorothy to Oz. But like that lemon-colored highway, this path held dangers at every turn. And so far not one of them had been as benign as the Scarecrow or the Lion. The only person he’d met who acted at all welcoming was a young woman in hot pants and a halter top, who’d offered to party with Gus in an adjacent alley for a mere forty dollars. Gus wouldn’t have been tempted to accept her offer even if he hadn’t seen the shadowy figure lurking just inside the alley’s mouth.

That danger recognized easily, he moved on as quickly as he could, stopping only to pick up a brick and smash the window of a Porsche Cayenne that someone had left at the curb. A note on the driver’s seat gave the address of this liquor store, and he ran here as fast as he could.

But now that he faced the withered shopkeeper across the grimy countertop, he wasn’t sure what he should do next. His first instinct was, as always, to be as friendly as possible and simply ask for help. But he’d already tried that once in the emergency room. It made him sick to think of what had happened next.