'Can you share the source of that information?'
'Oh, agent DeFrancisco failed to mention that the detective has been investigating Mr. Black for years and doesn’t believe that Mr. Black has any involvement in drug traffic. He thinks we’re wasting our time here,' agent Vinnelli said, not hiding his contempt for Kirk and his involvement in this operation. The other agents looked at Kirk, and the grumbles began.
'Settle down, gentlemen. I’m sure that despite his personal opinion about the objective, the detective will give us one hundred percent. Besides, I think that his involvement will give this operation a certain objectivity, as I’m sure the detective will be quite vocal if anything we do doesn’t pass the sniff test. And I want this operation run by the book. Are we all clear on this? That means no shortcuts, no slip-ups. I don’t want this asshole to wiggle out of this because we fucked up,' Vinnelli said to everyone before turning his attention back to Kirk.
'Now, to answer your question, detective, no, I can’t share the source of the information. What I can tell you is that a meeting was held at a club in the Bahamas yesterday. That meeting was between a couple of middlemen from a Peruvian drug cartel and DEA agent Roman Patterson. The meeting was held at a club called Black’s Paradise, and it is owned, as the name indicates, by Mike Black.'
'Was Black present at this meeting?' Kirk asked.
'No, but his wife, Cassandra Black, a.k.a. Cassandra Sims, a.k.a. Shy was present at the meeting. At that meeting, agent Patterson was murdered, along with one of the middlemen that Patterson was able to kill before he was murdered. Now, your job here, detective, is to detail for us everything you know about him and his operation. Where he does business and who he does it with. And I wanna know right here, right now, if we can count on you, detective.'
'You got something you’re tryin’ to say to me, agent Vinnelli?'
'My office, detective.'
Kirk got up and followed Vinnelli to the door. Richards got up too. 'Where are you goin’?'
'He’s my partner. You got something to say, you say it to both of us,' Richards said defiantly.
Vinnelli took a deep breath and opened the door to the briefing room. 'By all means, detective. Why don’t you join us.' Kirk and Richards walked out of the briefing room and Vinnelli followed them out, slamming the door behind him. He led them across the hall to his office and slammed that door as well.
Vinnelli stood face to face with Kirk. 'I’m gonna lay it on the line for you, detective. I don’t want you here. I believe your presence here compromises the success of this operation.'
'And why is that, agent Vinnelli?'
'You’ve been investigating this asshole for drug-related murder after drug-related murder for years, and you’ve never made a case, never even arrested him. Why is that, detective?'
Kirk stepped to Vinnelli’s chest. 'What are you trying to say?'
'I’m not trying to say anything, detective. I already said what I have to say.'
'Fair enough. Now, let me tell you something. I’m gonna do my job, agent Vinnelli. And if it turns out that Black is involved in drug trafficking, I wanna be the one to put the cuffs on him.' Kirk started to walk away, but turned around quickly. 'And if you ever call me out again, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass.'
'Fair enough.'
'Glad we understand each other,' Kirk said and walked out of the office, followed closely by Richards and Vinnelli.
The three men returned to the room, and Vinnelli continued his briefing. Then Vinnelli turned the briefing over to Detective Kirkland, who broke down in more detail than anyone on the team was prepared for, everything he knew about Mike Black.
Chapter Seventeen
Melinda Brown woke up early that morning and rolled out of bed. Still naked, she walked to the window and cracked the drapes. She was twenty-eight years old, the youngest of four beautiful girls. Melinda was tall and fine. Her hair was cut short, oval-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, full lips, and her skin was light brown. Each of her sisters had her first child before turning sixteen. Melinda knew that wasn’t the life for her.
Very early in life, Melinda learned to parlay her looks into getting everything she ever wanted, and for a time, she had it all. Melinda was living the good life. She drove a 500 Benz; she still had the car, actually. Melinda lived in a condo with a view of the Long Island Sound for which she paid no rent. She shopped in all the fashionable places that New York had to offer, and ate in the best restaurants. She went to Broadway shows and traveled the Caribbean. There was even talk of a trip to Europe. She missed going to fights in Las Vegas and Atlantic City. She even missed almost freezing to death watching those damn Jets games at the Meadowlands. Most of all, she missed being Mike Black’s woman.
Melinda had been introduced to Black by Freeze at a strip club. Melinda was trying to get a job as a dancer, but she just didn’t have the patience to deal with the clientele. Melinda and Black were going along just fine, until that bitch Shy came along. Then everything changed. Black used to say one of the things he liked most about Melinda was that she was no trouble at all. But that was then.
After Black dropped her for Shy, Melinda was alone. She went back to her condo and packed her things and waited for somebody to tell her that she had to move, but no one ever did, and no bills ever came. She assumed that the condo was paid for and when the bills came, they were just paid automatically by whoever handled that menial task for Black.
Once Melinda got over the initial shock of her new situation, she began to think about what she was going to do next. She had always been a gangster’s girl and had become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Melinda saw no reason to change that. Why should she?
She quickly gravitated to the first gangster she found. That was Derrick Washington. But it wasn’t the same. At the time, he was Chilly’s top lieutenant. Now, with Chilly dead, D-Train had risen to power. It was his time now. Now he was moving against Freeze.
Melinda looked over at D-Train as he moved around in bed. She didn’t have a lot of respect for Curl, a nickname people called him behind his back. The name was a holdover from the old days, when he wore a very bad Jheri-curl long after it went out of style. D-Train had built his rep on being ruthless, but to Melinda, he was weak and easily controlled. And stupid.
'You’re up early, baby,' D-Train said from the bed. 'You a’ight?'
'I’m fine,' Melinda said as she returned to the bed. She slid between the sheets and reached for his manhood. 'What’s wrong with you?' Melinda asked when it didn’t respond immediately to her touch.
'Nothing, baby. I just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.'
'Like what?' Melinda asked as she continued to stroke him.
'Five of my people are dead, baby. All killed by Freeze. I gotta do something.'
'They’re dead ’cause you aren’t listening to me, or your thugs are too stupid to follow instructions,' Melinda told him, still stroking him until he was hard.
'What you talkin’ bout? You the one who said to post up in their spots.'
'See, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You aren’t listening to me.' Melinda straddled his torso and slid her body down on him. 'That feels good,' she said and began moving up and down on him slowly. 'What I told you to do was send a couple of people into their spots. Check things out, see how things are run, make some friends, build alliances. That’s what I told you to do. Not go in there and try to set up shop.'
D-Train said nothing. He lay on his back and enjoyed what Melinda was making him feel.
'But that’s what they did; ran up in there and started slingin’. The only thing that could happen was for somebody to call Freeze, and what did you expect him to do?'
Again, D-Train didn’t answer. He was in ecstasy, watching her, feeling her. And besides, she was right.
'Exactly what he did, he killed them. That’s what he does, but that’s all he’s good for, killin’. Freeze ain’t that bright, baby, and you can take him out, but you have to take your time. I know how they run things. I know how to
