Southtown (Tres Navarre #5)(75)

Maia gently pushed away from me. She said, “I won’t ask if you understand what you’re getting yourself into. I know you better than that. But if you need any help with the legal stuff . . .”

“I’ve stil got a hotshot attorney in Austin?”

She looked down at the grimy sidewalk, the same brick path San Antonians had been walking since the 1800s. “You can’t get free of this place, any more than Sam Barrera can. I might as wel admit that.”

“Where does that leave us?”

“Long-distance,” she said. “I’ve got to go now.”

“I don’t have a car.”

She kissed me once more for the road. “You don’t need one, Tres. You’re home.”