Color of Justice

Author:Gary Hardwick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

19

THE DARK HOUSE

Night was falling as Danny stepped out of his car on Mack Avenue near Van Dyke. Mr. Baker lived in Indian Village, so his hooker friend was probably from this area. Chances were that he wouldn’t have wanted to venture far away from home when looking for his piece of ass.

Danny was wearing a big army jacket, jeans, and boots. He didn’t want to look like a cop. It wouldn’t help what was going to be an already risky situation.

Danny went to a couple of street guys he knew, trying to get the info he wanted. They were two brothers who worked the southeast side of the city, selling a little weed, nothing serious. He struck out. They didn’t know anything.

Danny was disappointed partly because he didn’t get the information, and partly because he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to go to the place he was now headed.

Danny parked his car, then walked up Van Dyke and turned down a side street. He had a ways to go because he didn’t want the people he was going to see to know for sure that he was alone.

Soon, he could see the house he wanted. It was nestled on a nice-looking street on a block with only one vacant lot, which had been turned into a garden. All around was blight, but this street could have been in any suburb in the metro area.

It was protected.

Danny walked up to the two-story house that was painted white with blue trim. Flower boxes had been freshly dug and planted and there was an old-fashioned bench swing on the left side of the porch. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought some nice old church mama lived there.

Danny was carrying both his weapons. Since this was not official, he went back to his old ways, feeling more comfortable with the revolver and the Glock.

He walked up the cracked sidewalk and was met by a kid about seventeen or so before he got to the house. The kid moved quickly toward Danny. He didn’t appear to be armed, but Danny was not taking that for granted. Behind him were one man in front of the house and two others on the porch. The other men were all in their twenties. These men, Danny knew, were armed.

“Whatcha want, white man?” asked the boy.

Without missing a beat, Danny said, “I want you to respect who the fuck you talkin’ to. Now take your narrow ass back and talk to King over there and ask him who I am.”

Danny pointed to one of the men on the porch, a gangly kid who knew Danny and had helped him when he needed to recover an antique watch that had been boosted from a retired judge. Danny was told that no one knew anything about the watch, then it magically turned up on his desk the next day.

The little kid looked up at Danny, searching his face for some sign that he was not to be taken seriously.

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