Ex Meridian (Nothing Special 7)

The other white guy seemed to loosen up a bit, hiding his grin behind the plume of smoke from his Marlboro. God just refrained from rolling his eyes. As long as Leo wasn’t arresting them, there wasn’t a soul his husband met who didn’t like him right away, whether they meant to or not.

“Can you place your food order later, Day?” God asked.

Day shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“So what are y’all lookin for out here besides Warlords?” one of the white guys asked, his light brown eyes on Day.

“How do you know we’re looking for them?” Day retorted.

“Because all cops are searching for them when they come to this neighborhood,” the black one tossed right back.

“Well we’re looking for information too,” God said, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. “On the kid that was shot several weeks ago. I don’t give a fuck who’s selling the most weight right now or who the hell is running what territory. I just want to know who pulled the goddamn trigger that hit and killed an eighteen-year-old kid.”

“Y'all are definitely the first ones to ask like that.” The black guy stood and unexpectedly told the two white men to go back inside the bar and wait for him. God tried not to get his hopes up that this man could have something fresh for him.

When the two men were gone, the guy stared at them for a few seconds before he started to talk. “I knew Evan. The boy that was killed. I knew him. He walked up and down this street all the time.”

“Yeah, I know. He lived close by and worked at the kid’s club across the street.” God nodded, getting impatient. Come on man. Give me something I don’t already know.

“He was a good kid. He loved to help out the little knuckleheads around here. He encouraged them to come to the club and stay off the streets, ya know?” The man spoke as if he was happily reminiscing. “He didn’t deserve to die that way.”

I know that! Then give me something I can use!

“My sister’s son—my lil’ nephew, Joseph—goes there on Tuesdays and Thursday evenings after school. He was tutored by Evan on those days. I work here until three Monday through Friday and was wondering why I hadn’t seen him around lately. Well, I found out that the day Evan was killed, my nephew had been waiting for Evan on the steps of the building when the shots came. He never thought to duck or take cover. He just stood there, watched and wet his pants, poor dude.” The man finally looked God in the eyes. “He’s only sixteen. A book-smart nerdy kinda kid. Nothing like these hardened fools around here. My sister said that Joseph got a good look at the one in the passenger seat that did the shooting.”

Yes! An eyewitness! God wanted to yell and thrust his fist into the air. He could see the reaction from his men out of the corner of his eye. This was huge! This was the break they’d been praying for, but working with kids as witnesses.... primarily working with their parents, was often difficult. The first priority had to be to protect the kid; if the mom was even willing to let the child testify.

“Where is your sister’s place? We need to speak to her and her son as soon as possible,” Day said.

The man shook his head and held his hand out as if telling them to slow their roll. “Look. Cherelle and I believe the only reason her apartment hasn’t been shot up is because the Warlords don’t realize that Joseph was even there... and we want to keep it that way.”

“We understand. And while we do need to talk to your nephew as soon as possible, his safety is our first concern,” Day said, sounding sincere. And God knew he was. Now, they just had to get this family to trust them. “We can get them into protective custody right away.”

“I’ll talk to her,” the man said and pulled out his pack of Dorals to light another cigarette.

God wanted to yank the damn things out of his hand, throw ’em to the ground and yell in his face that they didn’t have time to wait for him to decide to talk to her. He gritted his teeth. “At least give us her address so I can put some unmarked cars in the area.”

“That’ll draw attention. Like I said, I’ll talk to her.”

“When?” God bit out, his voice rising.

Day put his hand on his shoulder, easing him back from the edge. “Okay.” Day reached into his pocket and pulled out his card. “Here’s my numbers. Call me morning or night if you or your sister, Cherelle... or your nephew Joseph have any concerns.”

The man took the card and tucked it into the pocket of his white and black checkered chef pants. “I’ll see her tonight. I’ll call you guys real soon. I really think Joseph wants to do the right thing, but we have to live out here, y’all don’t. But everyone liked Evan a lot.”