Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
“Well, yeah, I know how much you love that shit. Don’t know how you can sit on your ass all that time, though.”
“You should know, sitting on that chair at your desk all day.”
“At least it reclines. And shit, I do get out on occasion. This gig you’re working, though. You sure it isn’t something that might interfere with a homicide investigation?”
“Come on, Al,” I say so I don’t have to lie. “Any news at your end?”
“They got some of our boys assisting with the drug angle.”
“You mean at the club?” I ask him with a bit of apprehension.
“I know you know, ’cause I talked to Hurley. That boy found dead on the fourteen hundred block of Rhode Island is a known drug dealer. Couple of the guys here are familiar with him.”
Fucking hope it doesn’t lead to the house on Riggs.
“You identify any of the other players yet?”
“Not that I heard.”
“You keep me in the loop, though, right?”
“Yeah, brother. I gotcha. No worries.”
“Thanks, Al.”
“Be safe. You need anything, call.”
“I will.”
Fuck. I’m gonna have to be a little more careful, make sure no one from NSID is on these boys, too. That’s all I need.
Thirty-Nine
Thirty-Nine
At around 2:00 a.m., the boys exit the club with a group of other people. They hang out, talking and smoking what appear to be blunts. The two then break off from the others and walk toward their car.
I follow them back the way they came but continue driving when they make that left turn onto Riggs from 13th.
Still wired when I get home. No television to watch, which is probably a good thing, ’cause it just makes me want more coke. I decide on stripping down to my shorts and getting into bed. First I down two Klonopins with a double shot of vodka. But even that isn’t enough to take the edge off a restless mind.
So I wait.
I don’t know when I fell out, but the buzzing iPhone snaps me up to a sitting position like I got springs in my back.
It’s dark, but the phone casts a beacon of light from the nightstand.
Fucking Diamond, and at fucking five in the morning!
“Marr,” I answer.
Diamond starts to rattle off something about office burglaries and a bunch of stolen laptops he has to help transport.
“Is it Biddy?” I ask, because that’s all I really care about.
He says, “No,” and goes off again.
“Calm yourself, Diamond. Start from the beginning. The quick version.”
He does.