Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(9)

We both knew that was probably best.

And most nights Nick made dinner anyway.

* * * * *

I sat at a table in the back of the bar, my back to the wall, watching Darius Tucker.

He was a tall, lean, black man with twists in his hair. He was very good-looking, had a way of holding himself that made you notice him and he was also a very bad guy.

I knew as well and was surprised by the fact that he was reportedly close to both Lee Nightingale and Eddie Chavez. Nightingale worked for money and, from what I could tell, had a foot planted on both sides of the fence. But Chavez was a cop.

This relationship intrigued me.

I’d been on the tail of one of Darius’s boys, a dealer. The dealer led me to Darius and I was watching.

It was late. I was tired. I’d had a shit day, not to mention, mentally relived the whole Park nightmare. I wasn’t sure I was in the mood for mayhem so I’d decided to give the night over to reconnaissance.

Know thy enemy.

I was keeping my eye out for Crowe, or any of the Nightingale boys. I’d only ever seen Crowe, the rest of them were still shadows for me. Though, I’d heard enough about them that I could probably pick them out in a crowd.

I was sitting on my phone and it vibrated against my ass.

Not taking my eyes from the room, I pulled it out, flipped it open and put it to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“Law?” Sniff said and he didn’t sound right.

My back went straight. “Sniff?”

“Law… shit. Law, he’ll kill me if he knows I told you but… Roam…”

I was already standing, my body tense, my mind wired.

“Tell me, Sniff,” I demanded, hitching the strap of my black purse over my shoulder.

“He’s been talkin’ lately, got this idea to help you out,” Sniff told me.

Fuck!

I was worried that something like this would happen.

“You with him?” I asked, moving through the bar, keeping people between Tucker, his dealer and me.

“Watchin’ him. Law, shit… he’s gonna kill me.”

“Where are you?”

“He’s followin’ someone. I’m followin’ him. Goin’ down Speer Boulevard bike path, close to Logan.”

“Which side are you on?”

“South side.”

“What direction are you headed?”

“West, shit Law.”

He sounded scared.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. You stick to him, Sniff, but do not get near. Do you hear me? Something happens, you don’t call me, you call the police. Got me?”

“Law, can’t call the cops.”

“You think something’s gonna go down, you get out of there and call 911. Promise me.”

“Law, I call the cops, Roam’d never talk to me again.”

“Promise me, Sniff.”

I was at the Camaro and Sniff hesitated.

Then he said, “Fuck. I promise.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” I told him. “And don’t say f**k.”

I swung myself behind Hazel’s wheel, started her up and drove like a madwoman. I parked in the Fox TV station lot, pulled my mace out and shoved it in my front pocket, shoved my gun in the back waistband of my jeans and held my stun gun in my hand. I got out, locked up and pocketed the keys.

I crossed Speer, which wasn’t easy; it was a busy, three-lane street, even late at night. Then I headed to the bike path, keeping my eyes open.

I moved swiftly and quietly.

It was nearing midnight, it was dark, the street was bright but the bike path wasn’t well-lit.

I saw nothing and kept going, hoping they stayed on the path. I couldn’t chance a call to Sniff. I didn’t know if Roam and whoever Roam was following would hear it. So I just moved as fast as I could without making any noise.

What seemed like an eternity later, but was probably five minutes, I saw Sniff’s gray sweatshirt. We were almost to Broadway when I got to him.

He was standing, trying to hide but you could see his sweatshirt. I approached him from behind and touched his shoulder. He jumped and whirled, dropping his phone with a clatter.

“Shit, Law!” he hissed.

I bent down, got his phone and gave it to him. “Roam still here?” I whispered.

“Yeah, up ahead,” Sniff whispered back.

I handed him my car keys. “Camaro’s in the Fox station lot. Go to it, get in, lock up and wait for me.”

“Law…” he hesitated.

I got close and clipped, “Move!”

He took off.

Told you my word was law.

I moved forward enough to see that there were people in front of me, standing, pretty as you please, next to a street light. A dealer making a sale. Anyone else might have thought they were just talking, on the Speer bike path, at midnight.

I knew it was a sale because I’d witnessed a lot of them the past four months.

Roam was nowhere to be seen.

I got into the shadows, watched and waited.

The sale went down, the buyers took off West, the dealer came my way.

Shit.

The dealer got close and I recognized him. Name was Shard, low level player, just a piece of scum caught in the wheel of the big drug machine.

I made a decision, came out to the path and started toward him like I was taking a moonlight stroll. I figured I’d walk by him, find Roam and get the hell out of there.