wouldn’t stay in his head long enough to focus on. The pages blew over, back and forth, and soon the image fractured into a million pieces, leaving nothing behind. Shug felt the blood go from his arms. The floor lurched away from him as the coppers brought him to his feet. His dead legs buckled under his weight, the two uniforms holding him up. The copper who’d brought him to the deck moaned about the state of his trousers. The other copper leaned in nice and close and whispered a dull threat of revenge. Shug didn’t hear him. He stared at the travel guide, willing the image back into his head. He was still looking at it when they shoved him into the back of the police car. But he still couldn’t remember what California looked like.