More silence while I imagined Darius shrugging.
“Don’t tel Smithie any of this shit. He’s told you he’s ready to cal in his marker for Jet, I don’t want him to take that offer you just gave me,” Eddie said.
You could have blown me over with a feather.
Darius was the “brother” that owed Smithie a favor.
How smal was Denver? And if it was that smal , why couldn’t I find my Dad?
Then Eddie asked the same question. “Any hint of McAlister?” Eddie asked.
“The guy’s slippery. I know he was at a table the other night, did well , not well enough to pay off Marcus but he paid him al the same. I’m guessin’ with whatever he stole from King.”
King?
Who the heck was King?
He had to be the guy who shot at me.
“What’d he get from King?” Eddie asked.
“The cops don’t know?” Darius sounded surprised.
“He’s shut tight. Not sayin’ anything. Asked for an attorney immediately.”
“Not smart, shootin’ at a cop’s girlfriend,” Darius remarked.
Yes, it was the guy who shot at me.
And there it was again, someone cal ing me Eddie’s girlfriend.
Dear Lord.
“Whatever it was, it was worth twenty large. That’s al I know.” Darius said.
Twenty large?
Holy cow.
I’d probably shoot someone if they stole something from me that was worth twenty thousand dol ars.
Wel , probably not, but I’d consider it.
“Slick stil in the picture?” Eddie went on.
“Slick’s taken to ground. Slick’s got the DPD and Nightingale Investigations al over his ass. Slick ain’t showin’ his face for a good long time. Thirty K or no.” Final y, a piece of good news.
“Where does Marcus stand in this?” Eddie continued.
“He’s cut Vince loose. Either that, or lose Daisy. Ain’t no way he’s losin’ Daisy,” Darius answered.
I was shocked.
What happened to war?
Not, of course, that I wanted war.
“Vince