Billy Bob Holland, attorney, is pitted against an apparently materialistic and immoral "entrepreneur," Earl,who happens to be married to the beautiful woman who deflowered Billy Bob, years prior. Earl's son by a previous liaison, Jeff, is a chip off the old block. Tagging alongside are two Chicano "gang bangers," actually more low riders than gang bangers, Ronnie Cruise (note how he anglicized his name, maybe that's a fad in San Antonio?) and a loco guy named Ramirez who gets boxed to death later in the book. In fact, of these four, only Ronnie remains standing, with Billy Bob, when the final bell rings. There are other women, including Esmeralda Ramirez, who is variously a college student, Jeff's wife, Ronnie's girlfriend, and the girlfriend of Billy Bob's son, not in that order, however. Then there's a corrupt, racist, fat sheriff (what would a Southern town be without one?), and various "white trash" figures who cross back and forth over the criminal line as forces carry them. Well, the result of all this, in my humble opinion, is a three-star book. As others on this website have pointed out, there's a lot to wade through for the action that's delivered, maybe a little too much attention to minor detail. But does this really differ much from Robert Parker describing what his private dick had for breakfast, lunch and dinner? Or from Robert Crais telling us what the sunset in Santa Clarita looked like as the police and FBI surround an upscale single family residence housing three kidnappers? Not really. So, there's something here, but you might have to wade through some of the slower parts, skim it or skip it. Billy Bob's encounter with his deceased crime partner, his ghost, that is, is actually rather interesting, because how often do you get anything even bordering on the metaphysical in this type of fiction? Diximus.