run down.
As the woman reached over and tried to close the large book, Ryan coldly shoved her hand away. He read the name under the picture.
"You think we need a picture of the guy?" Ryan asked as Benson turned away from the counter.
Again his partner was brief and to the point. "Naw, it ain't necessary. I say we pick the fat punk up now."
"After we eat," Ryan said, and both men laughed as they started toward the door.
11
THE SPRAWLING ACREAGE of the farm was shown to its best when the sun was setting behind the wooded area at the end of the riding paths. The few horses that were kept on the farm were out in the small enclosure behind the huge white barn that contained most of the hay and grain fed to the livestock.
As Kenyatta glanced out of the upstairs bedroom window in the main farmhouse, he could see riders coming out of the wooded section and heading for the huge white barn. Scattered along their path were the many smaller cabins that surrounded the main building. As the horseback riders got closer, Kenyatta could make out his right-hand man, Ali, riding tall in the saddle. The man's name left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ali wanted all the rewards that went with big money, but he didn't want to do anything for it.
Kenyatta finished the cigarette he was smoking and glanced around for an ashtray. His mind wandered back to the conversation he had just had on the phone. His gun connect was finished. The fat honkie was scared to death. The man hadn't been able to accept the killings Kenyatta's people had put on the big white dope pushers.
As Kenyatta thought about it, he smiled grimly. What had the man expected when he took their money for the goddamn information? Did he think Kenyatta was paying out that kind of bread just for kicks? Whatever the bastard thought, he had come out and told Kenyatta that the gun connect was finished.
Finished hell, Kenyatta reflected. If that fat bastard thought he was going to get out of it that easy, he had enough sense to make a jackass fly backward. No way, no fuckin' way in the world was Kenyatta going to allow Angelo's fat ass to get away with his money and the knowledge the man possessed. He was the only one who had the slightest idea of who was behind the hits. If he decided to sell that information, he wouldn't have any trouble finding buyers.
Betty opened the bedroom door and came in carrying a small silver tray with two drinks on it. "Here, honey, I thought you might like something cool."
As he took the offered drink, he smiled down at the tall, attractive black woman. There was something about the way she carried herself-the way she held her head high in a lofty manner. There was the mark of nobility about her. Each time she took a step, her long red gown would open up, revealing a beautiful black leg. Her hair was done up in a huge natural, and her ears were adorned with large African earrings.
"I want you to get on the phone and start calling until you reach the Creeper for me. It's very important that I talk to him at once," Kenyatta ordered as he took the drink, then turned away from the beautiful woman. His mind was on other things at the moment, yet if he kept looking at her, he knew he would end up postponing something while he took a quick roll in the hay.
She seemed to read his mind. "I was hopin', daddy, that you might find time to take care of a little bit of your homework. It's been neglected lately, for some reason," she said in a husky voice that sent ripples up and down his spine.
"Naw, baby, it's not enough time right now. I want you to get on that phone and take care of my business for me," he stated again, still with his back to her.
Even though she hadn't put her hands on him, he could feel her presence. It was like an unwanted alien sending out brain waves that he couldn't cut off. The motivating forces were working, and it showed a weakness on his part. To let his woman have that much power over him was something he resented, while at
As the woman reached over and tried to close the large book, Ryan coldly shoved her hand away. He read the name under the picture.
"You think we need a picture of the guy?" Ryan asked as Benson turned away from the counter.
Again his partner was brief and to the point. "Naw, it ain't necessary. I say we pick the fat punk up now."
"After we eat," Ryan said, and both men laughed as they started toward the door.
11
THE SPRAWLING ACREAGE of the farm was shown to its best when the sun was setting behind the wooded area at the end of the riding paths. The few horses that were kept on the farm were out in the small enclosure behind the huge white barn that contained most of the hay and grain fed to the livestock.
As Kenyatta glanced out of the upstairs bedroom window in the main farmhouse, he could see riders coming out of the wooded section and heading for the huge white barn. Scattered along their path were the many smaller cabins that surrounded the main building. As the horseback riders got closer, Kenyatta could make out his right-hand man, Ali, riding tall in the saddle. The man's name left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ali wanted all the rewards that went with big money, but he didn't want to do anything for it.
Kenyatta finished the cigarette he was smoking and glanced around for an ashtray. His mind wandered back to the conversation he had just had on the phone. His gun connect was finished. The fat honkie was scared to death. The man hadn't been able to accept the killings Kenyatta's people had put on the big white dope pushers.
As Kenyatta thought about it, he smiled grimly. What had the man expected when he took their money for the goddamn information? Did he think Kenyatta was paying out that kind of bread just for kicks? Whatever the bastard thought, he had come out and told Kenyatta that the gun connect was finished.
Finished hell, Kenyatta reflected. If that fat bastard thought he was going to get out of it that easy, he had enough sense to make a jackass fly backward. No way, no fuckin' way in the world was Kenyatta going to allow Angelo's fat ass to get away with his money and the knowledge the man possessed. He was the only one who had the slightest idea of who was behind the hits. If he decided to sell that information, he wouldn't have any trouble finding buyers.
Betty opened the bedroom door and came in carrying a small silver tray with two drinks on it. "Here, honey, I thought you might like something cool."
As he took the offered drink, he smiled down at the tall, attractive black woman. There was something about the way she carried herself-the way she held her head high in a lofty manner. There was the mark of nobility about her. Each time she took a step, her long red gown would open up, revealing a beautiful black leg. Her hair was done up in a huge natural, and her ears were adorned with large African earrings.
"I want you to get on the phone and start calling until you reach the Creeper for me. It's very important that I talk to him at once," Kenyatta ordered as he took the drink, then turned away from the beautiful woman. His mind was on other things at the moment, yet if he kept looking at her, he knew he would end up postponing something while he took a quick roll in the hay.
She seemed to read his mind. "I was hopin', daddy, that you might find time to take care of a little bit of your homework. It's been neglected lately, for some reason," she said in a husky voice that sent ripples up and down his spine.
"Naw, baby, it's not enough time right now. I want you to get on that phone and take care of my business for me," he stated again, still with his back to her.
Even though she hadn't put her hands on him, he could feel her presence. It was like an unwanted alien sending out brain waves that he couldn't cut off. The motivating forces were working, and it showed a weakness on his part. To let his woman have that much power over him was something he resented, while at
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