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"And why is that, agent Vinnelli?"

"You’ve been investigating this asshole for drug-related murder after drug-related murder for years, and you’ve never made a case, never even arrested him. Why is that, detective?"

Kirk stepped to Vinnelli’s chest. "What are you trying to say?"

"I’m not trying to say anything, detective. I already said what I have to say."

"Fair enough. Now, let me tell you something. I’m gonna do my job, agent Vinnelli. And if it turns out that Black is involved in drug trafficking, I wanna be the one to put the cuffs on him." Kirk started to walk away, but turned around quickly. "And if you ever call me out again, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass."

"Fair enough."

"Glad we understand each other," Kirk said and walked out of the office, followed closely by Richards and Vinnelli.

The three men returned to the room, and Vinnelli continued his briefing. Then Vinnelli turned the briefing over to Detective Kirkland, who broke down in more detail than anyone on the team was prepared for, everything he knew about Mike Black.

Chapter Seventeen

Melinda Brown woke up early that morning and rolled out of bed. Still naked, she walked to the window and cracked the drapes. She was twenty-eight years old, the youngest of four beautiful girls. Melinda was tall and fine. Her hair was cut short, oval-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, full lips, and her skin was light brown. Each of her sisters had her first child before turning sixteen. Melinda knew that wasn’t the life for her.

Very early in life, Melinda learned to parlay her looks into getting everything she ever wanted, and for a time, she had it all. Melinda was living the good life. She drove a 500 Benz; she still had the car, actually. Melinda lived in a condo with a view of the Long Island Sound for which she paid no rent. She shopped in all the fashionable places that New York had to offer, and ate in the best restaurants. She went to Broadway shows and traveled the Caribbean. There was even talk of a trip to Europe. She missed going to fights in Las Vegas and Atlantic City. She even missed almost freezing to death watching those damn Jets games at the Meadowlands. Most of all, she missed being Mike Black’s woman.

Melinda had been introduced to Black by Freeze at a strip club. Melinda was trying to get a job as a dancer, but she just didn’t have the patience to deal with the clientele. Melinda and Black were going along just fine, until that bitch Shy came along. Then everything changed. Black used to say one of the things he liked most about Melinda was that she was no trouble at all. But that was then.

After Black dropped her for Shy, Melinda was alone. She went back to her condo and packed her things and waited for somebody to tell her that she had to move, but no one ever did, and no bills ever came. She assumed that the condo was paid for and when the bills came, they were just paid automatically by whoever handled that menial task for Black.

Once Melinda got over the initial shock of her new situation, she began to think about what she was going to do next. She had always been a gangster’s girl and had become accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Melinda saw no reason to change that. Why should she?

She quickly gravitated to the first gangster she found. That was Derrick Washington. But it wasn’t the same. At the time, he was Chilly’s top lieutenant. Now, with Chilly dead, D-Train had risen to power. It was his time now. Now he was moving against Freeze.

Melinda looked over at D-Train as he moved around in bed. She didn’t have a lot of respect for Curl, a nickname people called him behind his back. The name was a holdover from the old days, when he wore a very bad Jheri-curl long after it went out of style. D-Train had built his rep on being ruthless, but to Melinda, he was weak and easily controlled. And stupid. My God, that is one stupid nigga. How could she respect a man so stupid that he allowed her to tell him what to do? The answer was simple; she couldn’t. At least he got a big dick, Melinda thought as she looked at him. She shook her head and longed for the days when she had a man. Melinda was still in love with Mike Black.

"You’re up early, baby," D-Train said from the bed. "You a’ight?"

"I’m fine," Melinda said as she returned to the bed. She slid between the sheets and reached for his manhood. "What’s wrong with you?" Melinda asked when it didn’t respond immediately to her touch.

"Nothing, baby. I just got a lot on my mind, that’s all."

"Like what?" Melinda asked as she continued to stroke him.

"Five of my people are dead, baby. All killed by Freeze. I gotta do something."

"They’re dead ’cause you aren’t listening to me, or your thugs are too stupid to follow instructions," Melinda told him, still stroking him until he was hard.

"What you talkin’ bout? You the one who said to post up in their spots."

"See, that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You aren’t listening to me." Melinda straddled his torso and slid her body down on him. "That feels good," she said and began moving up and down on him slowly. "What I told you to do was send a couple of people into their spots. Check things out, see how things are run, make some friends, build alliances. That’s what I told you to do. Not go in there and try to set up shop."

D-Train said nothing. He lay on his back and enjoyed what Melinda was making him feel.

"But that’s what they did; ran up in there and started slingin’. The only thing that could happen was for somebody to call Freeze, and what did you expect him to do?"

Again, D-Train didn’t answer. He was in ecstasy, watching her, feeling her. And besides, she was right.

"Exactly what he did, he killed them. That’s what he does, but that’s all he’s good for, killin’. Freeze ain’t that bright, baby, and you can take him out, but you have to take your time. I know how they run things. I know how to take him, but you got to do exactly what I say."

"Okay, okay, brain. What you think I should do?"

"You’re right about one thing: You gotta bust back or Birdie and his people will think that you’re weak."

D-Train thought for a second. Birdie was his rival for power. If Birdie saw him as weak, he and his people would go off on their own, and that would be bad for business. "I should call Freeze and-"

"No, silly. That’s the last thing you want to do. I know your ego wants to sit down with Freeze, but that is not the way. What you gotta do is make people see Freeze for the stupid, weak muthafucka that he is."

"I’m listening," D-Train said.

"You’re gonna have to change your tactics. Don’t send any more people into their spots. That’s over. They’ll be waitin’ for you now. What you need to do now is hit them. Take their money. You rob them, let people know that Freeze ain’t-" Melinda paused. She started to say "Freeze ain’t Mike Black," but she knew better. D-Train hated for Melinda to even mention that name. Last time I said Mike Black, his dick went soft.

"Let people know that Freeze ain’t the man. That they can be touched. Make Freeze come to you. That puts you in a position of strength."

"Yeah, I’ll hit one of their spots," D-Train said and tried to push himself deeper inside Melinda.

"What did I just say?" Melinda asked and moaned her approval. She ground her hips harder into him. "That’s over. They’ll be waitin’ for you now."

"Where should we hit?" D-Train asked, breathing heavily.

"Impressions."

"Bobby’s club? You out your fuckin’ mind. That’s fuckin’ suicide. They got so much security up in that bitch it ain’t even fuckin’ funny. On top of that, they always got at least three, four off-duty cops working outside, usually more. How we gonna get past them?"

"Do I have to think of everything?"

D-Train gave her a look that screamed YES!

"You have two people, a man and a woman, start an argument in the parking lot away from the cops, but not too far that the cops can’t hear them. The cops will think it’s a domestic dispute, and at least one of them will come over there to see what’s goin’ on. When they see the cops coming, have the woman fire a gun. All the cops will run toward the shot."