I heard the sound of the phone switching hands again.
“Raff. It’d be better you waited for someone else to have your back,” Beast said.
“Agreed, but she’s almost two hours late. Hell, you pointed out she might not have even made it to class, so time is in short supply.”
“Yeah, which is why I’m gonna tell you how to get to the Sixers, but tread lightly with them,” Beast said.
I listened to his directions and nodded. “If I pass where the road forks, I’ve gone too far.”
“Yeah, and it’ll be a bitch to turn around because it’s a two-lane road, butdon’tturn around at the work camp. You’ll get the wrong kind of attention being on your bike, so don’t miss it.”
I had Alexandra’s car keys in my pocket. “Thinking I’ll take her car. It hasn’t been driven in a while, and it’ll be quieter.”
“You got keys to her car?” Beast asked.
“I do.”
“Go find Alexandra. If you get a bad vibe, do not hesitate to call the cops.”
“Will do. Later.”
I turned right a block before the street Beast mentioned. The surrounding area had four side streets off State Road 26, and I wanted to check for any cross roads connecting the neighborhood. Two avenues ran perpendicular to the side streets, and allowed me to approach the house without being noticed.
I parked her Honda Accord three houses down and walked toward the house. Voices carried from the driveway of the house. I hunched behind some bushes and saw two men push Brantley into the backseat of a black BMW sedan. All four windows were rolled down, and I could see Brantley was the only person in the back.
Shit.
I found it strange that he’d been shoved into a car. No, it wasn’t strange, it forced me to realize something about Brantley. He was a follower, not a leader. Ines handled the drug money, not him. Porter planned to ride along to the concert, Brantley just let him hang at his apartment. Tobias hadn’t said outright, but my guess was that Tobias did most of the sales or found people willing to buy.
The BMW peeled out of the drive and sped toward State Road 26. After a rolling stop, it took a left, heading back toward campus.
One man went back into the house while two others milled about in the drive.
My odds were better one-on-one, but I could probably handle two-on-one.
I crept out from behind the bushes, walked toward the house, and up the drive. One of the two men was shorter and wore an Atlanta Hawks t-shirt. The other was leaner and stood at six feet tall. He wore baggy pants, and a loose FAMU t-shirt.
The Hawks fan noticed me first. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m here to pick up Alexandra.”
“We don’t know who you’re talking about,” the man wearing the FAMU shirt said.
I locked eyes with him. It might have been five years since I’d seen him, but I knew it was Nate, and I knew not to give away that I’d recognized him.
“You heard him. Now, get out of here,” the Hawks fan said.
“I’m just here to get my woman,” I said.
Nate stared at me, completely dead-eyed.
The Hawks fan swaggered up to me. “Ain’t any woman here, asshole.”
I debated my next move.
The garage door went up, and another black man came out. He was stocky up top, but not through his legs. A shiny black doo-rag sat on his head with dreads sticking out. He glared at me, but I ignored it. My gaze slid past him into the garage. I saw Porter laying on the floor.
“Eightball, who’s this?” the stocky man asked.
