Page 170 of Back in the Saddle

It was neither here nor there now.

“Raye drove off the road,” I reminded him.

He glanced forward then back at me. “Woman’s got quick reflexes. She got us right.”

“That’s not the point,” I stated.

“I freaked you. You’re fine. Now I wanna know what you found out from the community,” he retorted.

I drew in a breath to get over all that had just happened, and told him, “Nothing. No one has seen anything.”

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“Though some dealer has been sniffing around,” I said.

He refocused on me. “Lotsa dealers plague the camps.”

“Mary and Connie both made note of him because they thought he had ulterior motives,” I shared.

Javi cocked his head to the side. “They give a description?”

“Young, early twenties. Dark hair. White. Skinny. About my height, maybe a bit taller. No facial hair. And he deals Fentanyl.”

Javi stared straight forward, clearly deep in thought.

I let him think then I poked him in the arm.

He looked at me.

“You know this guy?” I asked.

“Not a tight description, but sounds like it might be Lil Clown,” he said.

“Lil Clown?” I asked.

“Lil Clown deals goodfellas.”

“Goodfellas?” Luna queried.

“Opes. Blues. Dance fever. Apache. F. Fenty. Opioids. Fentanyl,” Javi explained.

I made a mental note to brush up on my drug slang before deciding it seemed like maybe Lil Clown was who we were looking for.

“I’ll take it from here,” Javi declared.

He would not.

Not with Jeff in his posse.

“We’ve got this,” I told him.

He turned again to me. “If this involves Lil Clown, you don’t.”

“We’re working with the Nightingale team,” I informed him grandly.

“They don’t know who they’re dealin’ with either,” Javi returned.

“Well, how about you have a sit down with them and share,” I suggested.

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