“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“I wanted to welcome you back to the city,” Kirk began.
“Thank you.”
It said that he was coming for me and I had to be ready for him. One thing I know about good cops, and this guy was apparently one of them, they got every day, all day to get you if they want you, and Kirk seemed to want me bad.
“Where’d you go?” Sanchez asked.
“Spent some time in the islands.”
“Did you go to Puerto Rico?” Sanchez asked.
“Didn’t make it there.”
“You should go sometime. It’s a beautiful island.”
“I will, next time I travel.”
“You know, Black, before you left on your trip, there were a string of drug related murders.” Kirk paused and looked at me like I was supposed to have a reaction to the fact that a bunch of niggas were dead. I mean, it wasn’t like it was news to me. When I said nothing, Sanchez jumped in. He reached in his pocket and took out some pictures.
“Wilson Goode.” He laid the crime scene photo on the coffee table in front of me. “Billy Ronin, Ed Davis,” Sanchez said as he laid each photo on the table. “Dexter Corey, Lamar Butler, Marlo Collinwood and Jesse Hall.”
“And let’s not forget about Butler Griffin,” Kirk threw in.
“Who’s that?”
“A pimp named Silky,” Kirk informed.
“Okay … and Butler Griffin,” Sanchez said.
“Then you left the country and the murders suddenly stopped.”
“Now you’re back,” Sanchez added.
“What does any of this have to do with me?” I asked.
“It means that you killed them, Black. All of them.”
“Me? I didn’t have anything to do with any of that.”
“Come off it, Black. All of those men are connected to Andre Harmon. You’re Andre’s enforcer,” Sanchez said, as Bobby came in with Wanda. Kirk’s eyes bucked open at the sight of her.
“I miss anything?” Bobby asked.
“Nothing much. The detectives just accused me of being a mass murderer,” I said.
“That’s terrible,” Wanda said and sat down on the couch next to me. “Did they present you with any evidence?”
I pointed to the pictures on the table. “Nothing but those.”
Wanda leaned forward and glanced at the pictures.
“Oh.” Wanda sat back and looked at Kirk, whose tongue was all but hanging out. “So, I imagine that you gentlemen were about to either tell him what evidence you have, or arrest him for the crimes you’ve accused him of committing?”
“And you are?” Kirk asked.
“A concerned citizen,” Wanda began. “Concerned that you have accused a man of a crime and you have no evidence.” She paused. “Much less a warrant for his arrest and yet here you are harassing him.”