Not to the Swift

Chapter 7

"Oh my Lord," Kazsinski ranted as he steered the cruiser out of the parking garage. "You believe that load-a-crap the Captain foisted off on us?"

Mason said nothing, watching the shops and houses pass by.

Kaz took on a mocking tone. "She's all 'How many people trust you? How many people want to hug you? How many times do the people in the Twenties bring you flowers?' God. Whadda tool." He laughed and punched Mason's arm. "At least she had a nice rack, right?"

Kaz ignored Mason's silence and kept venting. "I got an idea for how we change things. Throw a few more in prison. Stop pussy-footing around and bring some SWAT gear down here, maybe clean out the gangs. Can't be on the street committing crime if they're in a cell at the pen. Or in a damn box."

He turned a corner and pulled up behind a driver. "Looks like a tail light burned out, don't it?" Blue and red lights flashed with the flip of a switch. "Let's see what this guy's up to."

The driver's Hispanic. Surprise, surprise. Mason sighed. This is ridiculous. Kaz can't be the face of the police force in this community. Evidence or no evidence, I need to talk to the Captain about this.

"We don't need to do this, J. Maybe they ain't coming. Let's get out of here."

Jamal hunkered down with Chris Washington in an alleyway between Madison and Nelson. "They'll be here. Trust me."

Chris scoffed. "I trust you. I don't trust them. What time they s'posed to get here?"

Jamal showed Chris his phone and laughed. "Four twenty, man."

Chris shook his head. "Figures."

A car pulled into the alley from the east end. Jamal watched them for a moment, then rose. "They here. Let's go."

It's not too late to leave. Chris looked to the other end of the alley. The sunlight on the street looked like freedom beckoning. He almost made a break for it.

But I can't leave Jamal behind. Chris turned and followed his friend to the meet.

Two Hispanic guys with a bouncer's physique stepped out of the car. A blocky bulge revealed the outline of a gun tucked into one's waistband. The other had something bulky in his pocket. A thin black man with narrow eyes and a scowl stood between his guardians. He scanned up and down the alley as Jamal approached.

Jamal extended his hand. "Lamar, my brotha, what up!"