Least Wanted (Sam McRae Mystery 2)

Little D grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Because then you’re useful to us, and why would I want to hurt someone useful to us?” He shifted on the seat. “Either way, it’ll save you an ass-whoopin’.”

Narsh fell silent, likely weighing the consequences of his response.

“Look, I dunno names. All I know is two white boys.”

“Two white guys?” I said. “Young? Old?”

“Young. Geek-lookin’ mutherfuckers.”

“So how does it work? They give you money and what happens next?”

Little D squeezed Narsh’s arm. “We’d appreciate all the details.”

Narsh swallowed hard. “I pick up the money from the white boys in the parking lot at Calvert Road Park and take it to Fisher. Now and then, I deliver some of that money to some ’bama give me a package. I take the package back to Fisher and he hold it ’til the white boys pick it up.”

“Drugs?”

“Naw. Somethin’ flat. Like a disc maybe.”

I shot Little D a quizzical look. He shrugged.

“How often do you do this?” I asked.

“Maybe once a month, I get the money. The white boys pick up the package every two months or so.”

“How long has this been going on?”

Narsh squinted and counted on his fingers. “It been about six, seven months.”

“So who gives you the package?” I said.

“Don’t know his name. Some niggah in a blue uniform.”

“A blue uniform?” I thought of the black man who’d been looking for Cooper at Elva McKutcheon’s place in Philadelphia. “Where do you meet him?”

“Iverson Mall.”

“Are you meeting him anytime soon?”

“This Friday.”

In two days. “When are you supposed to make your next delivery to the white guys?”

“This weekend. Saturday.”

I looked at Little D. “I have an idea.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It was a simple plan. On Friday, Little D would observe the Iverson Mall drop and follow the man in the blue uniform. Narsh would meet the white guys around twelve-thirty the next day in the lot at Calvert Road Park and give them their package. I intended to be there to see the handoff, take photos, and follow the two men after they left the park. Little D and I would touch base later that day.

Little D returned Narsh’s empty clip and we left Choochie’s. I asked if he would run me by Rochelle Watson’s house. I still hoped one of the neighbors would confirm Tina’s presence the night of the murder. Little D took me to the house. While I knocked on Rochelle’s door, he visited other neighbors.

The door opened to reveal Tanya’s thin, sallow face. “What is it?” Her eyes were as dull as her voice.

“Hi, Tanya. Remember me?”

“Yeah, I ’member you. Whatchoo want now?”