LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
May 1992
Staccato pops of rotor blades on the helicopters above us twisted and tangled my innards. LAPD’s helicopters didn’t seem to bother Leland the way they did me. His surroundings had him too busy to notice either the copters or my gritted teeth. Leland stood silently mesmerized by the panorama of ruin surrounding his lime green Buick LeSabre: blackened cars, burned-out swap meets, fast-food restaurants, and crowded apartment buildings, hollowed
