Takedown (11 page)

“I'll tell you. But first I need to know that we trust each other. Quid pro quo, as they say. I need the truth about where my phone message went and why those cops told me it got erased. Why'd they lie about it?”

Kessler pursed her lips, discomfort written all over her face. She wouldn't make it undercover, that was for sure.

“It didn't get erased,” she admitted. “Ed had two cell phones. The department didn't know about the second until I told them.”

“So he had a second cell phone just for informants.”

Her eyes darted to the window, then back to me. “I'm not saying more than that.”

“Then I'm not either.”

“He left it at my place,” she said quietly.

Finally it clicked. They were more than just partners.

“He never got the message?” I asked.

She stared down at the table. “I heard it go off, but I didn't check the message. I wish to God I had. If he'd been on guard when he got out of the car that night . . .” She exhaled. “You can think what you want about me. It was complicated.”

“I'm not thinking anything about you. I know all about complicated.”

“So are you going to tell me this tip, or am I wasting my time?”

I glanced over my shoulders, just in case. No one was within earshot. “Diamond Tony is going to frame Andre of the South Side Bloods for Prescott's murder. Tony's got guys in the Bloods who are willing to testify that Andre ordered it.”

“Do you have any details about what their story's going to be?”

“No, but Tony knows what sticks and what doesn't. Vinny—that's one of Tony's lieutenants—was sure that their plan was gonna work.”

“God. The department might've bought it too.”

“That's all I know,” I told her. “You've got to take it from here.”

“I will,” she said, a steel edge in her voice. She wanted to put away Prescott's killer as much as I did.

I
could picture Diamond Tony smiling.

Andre down, check.

New suppliers, check.

Saturday morning I felt so depressed that I didn't want to get out of bed. It killed me that I might've had something to do with Tony's good fortune. If I hadn't tipped off Prescott about Pup or the Cash Stop, all of this might've played out differently.

My phone rang, and Jessica's number came up. I couldn't talk to her, not now.

I called White Chris. An hour later, I met him at Local's. When I got to the table, he did something he never did. I mean,
never
.

He hugged me.

“What was that for?”

White Chris sat down and looked at me over his basket of chicken wings. “I heard about the cop getting killed. I'm glad it wasn't you.”

“Me too.” It felt wrong saying it. Prescott's only mistake had been putting himself out there in front of the cameras, bringing all that attention to himself. If anyone was setting themselves up to get killed, it was me. Yet I was still living and breathing.

“I was his informant,” I whispered.

White Chris's eyes widened.

“I'm in touch with his partner now. I told her that Tony is framing Andre of the South Side Bloods for the murder.”

“So killing that cop was all part of his master plan.”

“Right. The cops aren't listening to her, though. They're still going to charge Andre. Turns out he's got plenty of reasons to want Prescott dead. Prescott's been a pain in the ass to the Bloods for years. He even charged Andre a couple of years ago, but Andre got off on a technicality.”

“Typical. The cops have to put someone away, even if he's not the real killer.”

“And now Tony's hooked into the Bloods' suppliers. I don't know how he did it. He got everything he wanted. Revenge, supply,
everything.” I put up a hand. “Don't say ‘I told you, he's smarter than you.' Just don't.”

“I won't. It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you do next.”

“You think I should get out.”

“I
thought
you should before. Now I
know
you should. Tony killed a cop, Darren. And not just any cop—your contact. That means he could've seen him meet with you.”

“If he had, I'd be dead by now,” I said. But it was still there, the gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach.

“For the first time in your life, you're a lucky bastard. Now get the hell out.” He violently bit into a chicken wing to emphasize the point. “Look, if I saw you standing in the middle of the road with a Mack truck headed for you, I'd—”

“Okay.”

He blinked. “Did you just say
Okay
?”

I was shocked, too. I couldn't quit. I'd come too far, seen too much. And now there was Prescott to avenge.

But none of that changed one simple fact: White Chris was right. I had to get out while I still could.

I knew what it meant to say I was getting out. It meant that I'd failed. It meant that everything I'd worked to achieve in the past few months had been a waste.

But it was like we'd learned in economics class—everybody has to have a point when you get out at all cost, no matter how much you've lost. A point where you save whatever assets you have left.

Even if the only asset you have left is your life.

“You're right,” I said. “About everything. Now I have to figure out how to do it. Most people don't up and quit, especially with all the shit going down these days.”

“Keep it simple. You can say that your mom heard about your dealing and threatened to kick you out.”

I thought about it and nodded.

“You're doing the right thing, Darren.”

But I wasn't sure that jumping ship and saving myself was the right thing. I only knew I wasn't ready to give up my life for this. Maybe my dad could do that, could give up his life for some cause bigger than he was. But I couldn't. I wasn't going to leave Kiki to grow up without me.

I didn't care what the right thing was anymore. I wanted to stay alive.

My Dad

My dad fought to keep the peace

And died a victim of war

One picture's all I have

Of him in his uniform

Growing up I needed

My dad, someone wise

Now I got no memories

None to love or to despise

A boy needs his dad

To show him the right way

How to handle the streets

And what game not to play

One picture's all I have

Of my dad, of my dad

One picture's all I have

And it's never been enough.

H
ow come we can't see stars in the projects?” Cam asked me.

The sky was smoky black. Vinny was supposed to come by soon to make the last exchange of the night. That's when I planned to tell him my decision.

“All that pollution.” I filled my lungs with cold air, then exhaled. “Hey, I got something to tell you.”

“Then tell me.”

“The other night I got into a fight with my mom. One of her friends spotted me out here and told her I was up to no good.”

“Shi-it! What did you say?”

“What could I say? I pleaded no contest. She told me to pack my bags and get out.”

“Ouch. Where'd you go?”

“I had nowhere to go. Couldn't show up at Jessica's and ask to crash there. Her parents would know something was up.”

“So what'd you do?”

“I told my mom I'd get out of the biz.”

“And she believed you?”

“It's the truth. I'm getting out.”

He watched me for a minute, probably expecting me to burst out laughing. “You serious?”

“Dead serious. I'm not gonna get kicked out of my home for this, Cam. The whole time I was in juvie, I wanted to get back with my family. I'm not gonna blow it.”

“Jeez. I thought you'd be a lieutenant one day.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. Remember how Diamond Tony acted when he saw you at Vinny's? It was like he respected you. I figured that meant you were gonna move up.”

“Thanks for saying that, Cam. But it don't matter now. It's not worth losing my family. They went through a lot while I was in juvie. And, to tell you the truth, I really don't want to get locked up again. Two years was enough.”

“I hear that. But it'll be shitty without you. We had fun, huh?”

“Damn right.” I went over, and we fist bumped. “We'll still hang. Hit a club or two.”

“Fo sho.”

I was surprised that Cam hadn't tried to talk me out of it, but I shouldn't have been. Maybe he knew I wasn't cut out for this. Maybe he thought he wasn't either. He'd been talking about doing his GED, after all.

Part of me wondered if I should try to talk Cam into quitting too. I wanted to see him do better, have a decent sort of life. But even if I could convince him, I didn't think Vinny would like both of us quitting at the same time. Better it just be me for now.

“Darren.” I heard my name and spun around. The Vet had come up behind me, silent in the snow. He had that scary, zombie look going on, his skin mottled and colorless. I was surprised he knew my name, and I didn't like it.

“Haven't seen you in a while,” I said, trying to be nice. “You want twenty?”

He stepped closer, reeking like garbage. “I want free.”

“C'mon, man. It's too cold to be playing around.”

“I ain't playing. But I know
you
been playing.”

I made a face. “Huh?”

“I saw his picture in the paper.”

An icy feeling gripped me. “I don't know what you're—”

“That cop who got killed. He was in the paper. I saw you with him.”

“You're fucked up already,” I said. “You obviously don't need any shit from us.”

“I do. And I want it for free.”

T
here was no time to think, so I went with it. I pretended to take money from the Vet and slip it into my pocket. Then I made a sign to Cam.

“See ya next time, Darren,” the Vet said, strolling over to Cam to collect his hit.

I watched him go. This had to be a nightmare. He couldn't have seen me with Prescott, could he?

Sure, he could have. The Vet didn't always hang out in this neighborhood. He probably panhandled all over the city.

He could put the word out about me so easily. Spread a rumor that I was a snitch. Or go up to some dealer and tell him what
he saw. If Tony got suspicious, it could be enough to do me in.

I wished the free hit was all the Vet was after. But he'd said he would see me next time. That meant he was coming back for more, and if I wasn't here to supply him . . .

Every curse I knew shot through my brain.

I couldn't quit. Not now. Not before I found a way to deal with the Vet.

Vinny showed up soon after. When I saw his car pull up to the curb, it hit me that I was going to be twenty dollars short. Turning my back on Cam, I made a quick maneuver and replaced the missing twenty with one from my wallet. Good thing I had the cash on me.

I handed Vinny the money, and Cam gave back what we hadn't sold. Cam kept looking at me expectantly, but I gave a little shake of my head. He frowned, but seemed to get the picture.

Vinny didn't count the cash, but he could tell it was a fat wad. “We're back in business.”

He slapped us five and strutted back to his car.

Cam turned to me. “You punked out or what?”

“Yeah. I got no other source of cash flow. I'm gonna have to get a job quick.”

“What about your mama?”

I sighed. “I'll deal with my mama. Hope you got a spare couch in case I need to crash.”

“It's yours if you need it, but it's got a couple of broken springs. Your sister's a wildcat.”

I forced a laugh, but my stomach was in knots. The Vet knew my secret.

I couldn't get out now.

I was stuck in the game.

S
ome people say there's no such thing as luck. I say there is. Mine's mostly bad.

I knew the Vet wouldn't hesitate to rat on me if I didn't supply him. Most fiends' brains were too fried to hold a conscience. They stole from their family and friends, neglected their kids, robbed shops, turned tricks—all to get their next hit. Why shouldn't he sell me out?

The Vet came back the next night and the night after that. Each time, I supplied him and covered the cost. The Vet never used to come by every night, but now that he had this sweet deal, he was making the most of it.

“Look, man, you're bleeding me dry,” I said on the fourth night. “This is the last time.”

He smiled, revealing horrible teeth. “Then say your goodbyes, Darren.”

“No one will believe you.”

“You sure about that?”

The next night he didn't come around, and I dared to hope I'd seen the last of him. But, of course, the Vet was back the following night. Seeing the smirk on his face, I could tell he was screwing with me. After I was done dealing, I didn't go home. Instead I walked north, up Jane Street. I'd been outside for hours and was bone cold. And yet I felt more suffocated than in those tiny cells in juvie where I could've sworn the walls were closing in.

It didn't matter how long I walked, I couldn't clear my head. I thought about telling Kessler my situation, seeing if she could get the Vet picked up and charged with possession. But I knew the cops didn't give a shit about crackheads like him. They always went right back to using once they got out. And even if they prosecuted him, it wouldn't solve my problem. The Vet could blab about me at any time, and snitching was just as bad in jail as it was on the outside.

Even if I kept supplying the Vet, he might talk anyway. He could brag about our arrangement when he was high; then I'd have
more fiends to keep quiet. All I knew was, if anyone started calling me a snitch, it was only a matter of time before Tony took notice.