Twenty-five minutes later, Slim noticed the Welcome to Indiana sign as the headlights illuminated it. Then he saw a Welcome to the city of Hammond sign. A few minutes later Slim noticed they were by a place with a lot of train tracks and trains. They all got out the car as the big man began to beg. Slim couldn't believe that the big guy was afraid. The windows were rolled up but Slim could hear his uncle yelling. His boy who was behind the man suddenly stabbed him in the base of the neck. The big man fell to his knees. Uncle pulled his pistol. He aimed it at the man's face, then turned and looked at Slim who was staring at the murder as if it were a scene being played out in one of the movies he always watched. 

    Unk lowered the gun to his side smiled and walked to the car. "Slim, get out," he told his eight year old nephew.

    He did and they walked to the wounded man. Slim saw the dark blood pooling on the ground as the guy mumbled some words.             "Remember when your mom came home all beat up and ****?" Unk asked.

    A now stone-faced Slim answered, "Yeah."

    "Remember, she couldn't walk 'cause her leg was broke."

    "Yeah," Slim said as his Uncle handed him the pistol.

    "Well Slim, the reason why is because this muthafucka raped and beat up your mom, my sister."

    "I...didin...know...she...yo..." gurgled from the man's mouth.

    Unk kicked the man telling him to shut the **** up.

    "Now all you have to do is point it at his head and pull the trigger. You have to, 'cause he did that shit to your mom."

     Slim raised the weapon. Thought about how much pain his mom was in at the time. Then there was a bright flash of light and a loud boom. The man's face exploded. The next thing Slim remembered was that they were on the Chicago Skyway heading home while Uncle and his boy got high listening to Tina Marie and Rick James. He had killed for the first time.

     Lisa left the office and headed home taking I-65 to US 30 to Mississippi Street then to her home in the Preserve subdivision in Merrillville. She had watched closely for a tail, even though she took several different routes home. Slim told her to do that since she was staying in one of his houses. She pulled the '05 convertible Mustang into the garage, one of Slim's cars of course, then headed into the house to take a warm bath. 
    Ring, ring, ring. The cordless chimed. She glanced at the clock on the bathroom wall. She looked at the caller ID, it was Shay. She decided she'd listen to the message before talking to her. More than likely, Shay was still out and was trying to see if she could meet her and 'give up the coochie on the first night', Peaches. She gave her time to leave the message and when the phone beeped letting her know she had a new message, she checked it.
    Girl I called your cell and I didn't get an answer. It's some fine brothers out here at First Friday's. You need to get up here and get your groove on like Peaches and me! Click!
    First Fridays was at Bennigan's Grill and Tavern. In the ballroom they would have local comedians and comedians who had been on BET Comic View do their thing every first Friday of the month. It was nice and the crowd was deep most of the time. Lisa just wasn't one of those people who had to be there all the time. Like Shay and Peaches.
    After reading a couple chapters of a new novel by Nikki Turner, she set it to the side, ran some hot water to warm the bath some more, and then relaxed. That's when she dozed off and had her reoccurring nightmare.
 

    Lisa decided to ask, "Why couldn't I come inside and see your house baby?"
    "You can when we get back, like I said we're running late," Slim smiled.
    "Chicago aint going anywhere. It'll still be there in the time it would've taken for you to show me around. That is if you wanted too," she pouted.
    Slim's briefcase clicked as he popped the buttons. He reached inside. "Yeah, but American Airlines ain't gon wait for us," he said as he handed her the tickets to Vegas.
    "Oh shit!" she yelled. "You had my ass fooled, Vegas damn!" She leaned forward from the back seat to give him a hug then whispered in his ear, so Skills couldn't her, what she was going to do to him.
    "I'ma hold you to that!" Slim told her.
    "Make sure you do baby, make sure you do!" she said as she leaned back brushing the thighs of her Baby Phat jeans. Through her mind ran the designer clothing she was going to get while she was in Vegas. She couldn't wait.
    As they drove the three of them kicked it. Skills told Lisa about the many times he had been to Vegas. She really listened when he told her about the Ghost Club in the Palms Hotel where she and Slim would be staying and also about the best shopping spots.  

    Myte smelled the freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries and her nose guided her in that direction. Since she'd never been in a bookstore she didn't known that there was an area for sitting, reading and relaxing. She passed by the area with cd's then the magazine racks. She stopped and grabbed a fashion magazine so she wouldn't look out of place. Would have grabbed a book but she wouldn't have known what to pick up. She headed over to the sitting area where the detective Styles was sitting reading a magazine.
     "Five minutes early, we're getting off to a good start," he said as he glanced at his watch. He stood so he could pull her seat out for her.
     She sat wondering, why the fuck is he being so nice?
     "When you walked in you were looking around as if you'd never been in a bookstore," he grinned.
  She didn't reply. She got straight to the point asking, "So why did you want to meet me? I haven't done anything."
    "Okay, first off if we're going to be partners, we can't be lying to each other so you can cut the Sweet Polly Purebred act. You transport money and dope to and from your cousin Felix Colon." 
He opened a folder that had several pictures of her leaving Felix's house and the damaging ones, a couple of his stash spots. He explained to her that as they spoke a narcotics team was raiding two of the spots and with her pictures and the drugs that they find he would give all the evidence to the fed's and not the state, that way she'd be convicted of conspiracy which carried a mandatory minimum of ten years. 
     One thing Myte didn't want was to go to prison.  She, like most women in the game would do anything to keep from going to the joint. 
     She told him, "Well detective Styles--"
    "Call me Moses."
    "Well, Moses what if I decided to take my chances, I mean I was just visiting friends, my cousin and all so those pictures don?t mean shit!"
     "That's why I told my partner that you'd be useful to us. I figured your brain was always working." He gave her a mini cassette recorder. "Turn it down and put it up to your ear before you press play. Wouldn't want any of these nice suburban people hearing any of what you were saying."
     Lines formed on her forehead as she wondered what was on the tape. She turned down the volume then pressed play.

    It was a bright and sunny afternoon. Myte was pissed that she had to come out to the Shedd Aquarium to pick up a key and then go to another place to get the package. Slim had never done things this way but she knew sometimes things change on the other end. This may have been the way his connect wanted to do it. She walked up the steps to the entrance watching all the white mammas and daddies taking their kids to see all the underwater creatures at one of the world's largest indoor aquarium. Wearing the jeans and pink top Slim told her to wear; she walked up the concrete steps. Her single ponytail bouncing each step of the way. Halfway up a tall white man approached her. His skin was olive colored and his hair jet-black. 
     "Hello sexy," the mob soldier greeted to her.
     Myte looked him over thinking he was cute for a white boy. "Do you have something for me?" she asked, trying her best to sound sexy.
     The man handed a key to her and a Bally's heath club card.  Curious she asked, "What am I supposed to do with this?"
    "Call your boss, he'll advise you." Not wasting another second the man turned and walked back into the building.
    Myte tucked the key and card in her pocket knowing that it was less of a chance that the items would get lost in her tight fitting jeans than it would if she put them in the knock off Prada bag she was carrying. She grabbed the cell that was clipped to her hip then dialed.
     Prissy's," Ray answered.
    "Put Slim on the phone," she barked at his soft ***.
    "Who is this?"
    She snapped, "***** this Myte, put Slim on the phone."
    "Ay, don't be calling with no funky *** attitude you don't work here and you definitely ain't runnin' **** even if you are ******' Skills so you best to chill!"
    "I got business with Slim you no ***** gettin' *********** now put him on the phone before I hang up and tell him you wouldn't let me talk to him!"
     The sound of the phone dropping to the table made a loud thump. Myte jumped a bit, but smiled knowing she had pissed Ray off.

    Skills was led off the elevator.  He stood in the sally port as the guard took the handcuffs off his wrist.  He rubbed them.  Still couldn't get used to the cold steel feeling.  He had been in MCC, the Metropolitan correctional Complex in downtown Chicago for three months and from the looks of it he wasn't going to get out anytime soon.  Earlier in the morning he had been transported by the U.S. Marshall's to the Dirksen building.  The DEA, FBI and U.S. Attorney wanted to speak with him.  Wanted to see if he'd changed his mind about cooperating. They offered him five years instead of the ten he was facing.  No matter how everyone had forgotten about him he still managed to stay strong.  Not to rat on Slim or anyone else.  Now Myte would visit every now and then, but he knew it was only a show.  That she'd soon grow weary of visiting him.  He also figured she felt bad about having the dope in the house.  Before he had got home she had taken some out of the false wall in the garage to start cutting up and had put it under the sink instead of back in the hiding spot.