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“What’s there to say? Your nigger friend killed him”

“How can you be so sure?”

“All the evidence points to

her, doesn’t it?”

“Not really”

“Oh, yes it does What about the knife? What about the comb?”

What about the fact that you know all this?

“It’s interesting you should bring those things up I don’t think the police have shared any of that information with the press” I paused to watch the effect of these words He just looked surly “In fact, cops tend to be very close-ations So unless you have an inside source, I can’t iine how you’d know about the knife and the comb”

Dwayne’s lips curled back in disdainful amusement

“My brother is a detective He’s working a honed to”

For a moment, I was lost for words The nepotis

“That’s interesting I wonder how your brother the cop would feel about your pot-s habit?”

“Yeah, right I don’t have a habit You can’t prove anything Besides, he’s a homicide detective, not a narc, you stupid bitch”

Dwayne snickered, then chuckled This built into laughter He reached into his pocket, pulled out a used tissue and blew his nose A slip of paper came out and drifted to the doormat unnoticed

I stooped to pick up the piece of paper It read: “Maria Benitez” with a long string of numbers beneath it