Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Then I had to move us along.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
It took visible effort for Javi to turn his head to me.
Whereupon I smacked him in the chest and snapped, “Dude! You scared the shit out of all of us.”
“We can’t be seen talking, and your man would lose his mind if I broke into your house to get a brief,” Javi returned.
Eric would indeed do that.
It was neither here nor there now.
“Raye drove off the road,” I reminded him.
He glanced forward then back at me. “Woman’s got quick reflexes. She got us right.”
“That’s not the point,” I stated.
“I freaked you. You’re fine. Now I wanna know what you found out from the community,” he retorted.
I drew in a breath to get over all that had just happened, and told him, “Nothing. No one has seen anything.”
“Fuck,” he murmured.
“Though some dealer has been sniffing around,” I said.
He refocused on me. “Lotsa dealers plague the camps.”
“Mary and Connie both made note of him because they thought he had ulterior motives,” I shared.
Javi cocked his head to the side. “They give a description?”
“Young, early twenties. Dark hair. White. Skinny. About my height, maybe a bit taller. No facial hair. And he deals Fentanyl.”
Javi stared straight forward, clearly deep in thought.
I let him think then I poked him in the arm.
He looked at me.
“You know this guy?” I asked.
“Not a tight description, but sounds like it might be Lil Clown,” he said.
“Lil Clown?” I asked.
“Lil Clown deals goodfellas.”
“Goodfellas?” Luna queried.
“Opes. Blues. Dance fever. Apache. F. Fenty. Opioids. Fentanyl,” Javi explained.
I made a mental note to brush up on my drug slang before deciding it seemed like maybe Lil Clown was who we were looking for.
“I’ll take it from here,” Javi declared.
He would not.
Not with Jeff in his posse.
“We’ve got this,” I told him.
He turned again to me. “If this involves Lil Clown, you don’t.”
“We’re working with the Nightingale team,” I informed him grandly.
“They don’t know who they’re dealin’ with either,” Javi returned.
“Well, how about you have a sit down with them and share,” I suggested.
Javi shook his head. “They can take care of their business. I got the street.”
“Instead of pissing in corners, maybe we can all work together and get this shit done before anyone else disappears,” I fired back.
“I don’t work with anyone but my crew,” Javi retorted.
“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to hope, while we try to figure out what you already know, and you move forward not knowing what we might find out, someone else doesn’t get…” I finished that by doing what Mary did and drawing my finger across my throat.
Javi’s head cocked again. “You’re kinda a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Why do men always ask that when they know a woman is right?” I inquired.
Javi flashed his megawatt grin. “More proof you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Because I was again right?” I deduced.
He chuckled.
I heard Harlow sigh.
Yeah, his amusement sounded way nice.
“Tell us about Lil Clown,” I demanded.
Javi’s grin died. “He’s in a crew that isn’t gonna last long.”
“Why?” Raye asked from up front.
“Aggressive expansion,” Javi told her.
“Are we talking more product and more customers, or are we talking more territory?” Luna inquired.
“Both,” Javi said. “That’s the aggressive part.”
“So they’re not gonna last long because they’re pissing off other players,” I noted.
“That, and they’re assholes,” Javi stated. “And yeah, you can argue they’re all assholes, and they are. These guys are just bigger assholes.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
“What do you think they’re doing to the people they take?” Harlow asked.
Javi turned to her, and it might have been because there was so much of him to give off a vibe, or it might have been the strength of his emotion, but it felt the whole atmosphere in the car turned gentle when he did.
And…
Damn.
I needed to give more than a split second to this Javi/Harlow gig.
“No clue, lil’ mama,” he said softly. “But it isn’t good.”
“Yeah,” she said softly back.
They lapsed into sharing another moment.
This moment was broken when Raye turned us around and headed back to where we came.
Javi noticed and said, “You can drop me anywhere. I’ll make my way.”
“We’re going back to drop Harlow. She’s on a surveillance shift in ten minutes,” Raye told him.
“Which one is Harlow?” he asked.
So, Super Street Man didn’t know everything.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t introduce everyone. Raye, the driver. Luna, front passenger seat. And Harlow’s sitting to your left.”
Javi didn’t even glance at Harlow.
He kept his gaze locked on the rearview mirror.
“Surveillance of what?” Javi asked Raye.
“The camp,” Raye said.
We all silently suffered the tectonic plates shifting as he processed this before he said, “The fuck she is.”
“I am,” Harlow piped up cheerily. “It’s my shift.”
Javi slowly turned his head toward her, and my eyes bugged out at Luna, who was still twisted around in her seat.
They were thus at the pounding displeasure filling the cab. Luna’s eyes were bugged out again too. A quick glance at the rearview mirror said Raye was having the same reaction.