Irrevocable (Evan Arden 5)

“I’m guessing he got into the wrong crowd as he got older.”

“That he did.” She bobs her head up and down. The colorful cloth slides down on her forehead a bit, and she reaches up to adjust it. “It’s so hard for the boys in this neighborhood not to get involved in the gangs. I wanted his mother to move farther north, but who can afford such places?”

“Not many.”

“Not many indeed!” She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I wanted to get out of Chicago altogether when I was a young woman, even moved to Gary for a short time, but when I found out I was about to have a little girl, I had to come home to my mama for help.”

She prattles on, and I try to ask questions that will give me some information I need, but she seems quite stuck on stories of the past, not the present. As I pull up to the parking lot of the 7-Eleven, she grumbles under her breath.

“Lord help me.”

I follow her eyes to a group of young men and older teenagers. They’re wearing orange bandanas and bracelets and seem quite content to hang at the corner by the ice machine and shove each other back and forth.

“Jimmy’s friends?”

“Friends!” she snorts. “That boy there—the one with the half-shaved head? He’s the one who dragged Jimmy into the gutter. Not that the boy didn’t go willingly, but all the same…”

Her voice trails off and she sighs. I exit and go around the front to help her out of the car.

“Thank you so much, Michael. You have truly brightened my day.”

“You are very welcome, Sonja. Take care of yourself.” I watch her head inside the convenience store.

Getting out of the Camaro isn’t a stealthy move on my part. As soon as I finish getting Sonja on her feet, I notice the gang members have stopped shoving each other and are now watching me. I meet the gaze of the half-shaved one.

He moves his hand to the back of his jeans. I know he’s going for a gun, but I also know he won’t use it. There’s a cop car parked a block down, and the guy certainly knows it. I nonchalantly pull a cigarette out and light it. Leaning against the side of the Camaro, I take a long drag and blow smoke in his direction.

Looking nervously to his comrades, he speaks in a tone too low for me to hear. A moment later, he walks up to me. As he approaches, I recall his name from Jonathan’s list of Auburn Grisham’s local ruffians. Omarie Keevers—Junko’s brother.

“What are you doing here, Arden?”

“Giving a nice old lady a ride,” I say with a smile. “She’s a little troubled you know. I understand her grandson is in the hospital.”

Omarie glares and starts to reach behind his back again.

“Not a good idea.” I glance in the direction of the police car.

He heeds my warning without asking for more explanation. At least he has some brains. He plants his feet firmly and stands up taller.

“You goin’ on your way then?” He intends for the words to be a command, but they come out a question anyway.

“Not sure yet.” I take another puff off the cigarette. “It’s such a nice neighborhood. Maybe I’ll go apartment shopping.”

“You’re south of Forty-seventh,” Omarie says, trying to sound bold. “Out of your territory.”

“Must be a reason for that.” I toss my cigarette at his feet and push off the car. “It seems something that belongs to me has been misplaced. I think it might be misplaced around here somewhere.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” His answer is far too quick. He doesn’t ask what because he already knows the answer. He glances over his shoulder at the group and then looks back to me. “You need to get movin’ before my boys get aggravated. It’s too early for bloodshed.”

“I’m going to get moving because I’m out of cigarettes, and I’m pretty sure they don’t have my brand here. You let Junko know I’m looking for my merchandise.”

Omarie takes a few steps back as I walk around the car and get in. I rev the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Nice bumper sticker!” I’m not sure who yells it, but they’re all laughing.

That thing has got to go.

Back at Rinaldo’s office, I dig up everything I can find on Omarie Keevers. He hasn’t been a big player down south, at least not until Marcello’s demise. He must be moving up in the world quickly to have approached me out in the open, showing off for his homies, no doubt.