Page 6 of Blue

“Later,” Cruz said.

“There’s a trailer for rent next to the vacant lot.” Kane pointed to the left.

As quietly as possible, we crept along the back of the trailers. More police cars approached.

We scurried past two more trailers. Officers holding K9 units gathered on the corner, pointing in the direction of Kane’s trailer.

Cruz held his hand up, signaling for us to hold back. He strode to the front of the trailer and tugged the For Rent sign from the ground. Then he waved us toward the rickety porch. I sat next to him on the top step and pulled Kiss onto my lap.

Kane and Sam sat on the bottom step.

“How did you know?” Kane asked Cruz.

“Because he’s a fucking narc.” Sam seethed with his accusation. “And his friend came for Kiss. What was the plan? To let the rest of us take the hit?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kane snapped. “I’ve known Cruz too long.” But his gaze hardened on me. “I don’t know you. Are you dealing for the cops?”

“He’s with me,” Cruz said. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Have you looked at his cut? Blue’s a Heller Raider.” Kiss leaned her head on my shoulder. She could scarcely keep her eyes open, and her words slurred. “He’d never work with the cops.”

I wiped drool from her mouth. “Stay with me, Kiss.”

“I just need to sleep for a minute.”

Boom!A concussion grenade blasted the neighborhood. Car alarms blared, and dogs barked. Thecops shouted orders, and neighbors began to filter out of their trailers to watch the entertainment.

“Fuck, Kane, they brought in the big guns for you.” Sam pulled out his cigarettes.

“Not for me,” Kane said. “Maybe for me, but I’m not dealing. Do they usually bring in S.W.A.T. for a party?”

“Nah.” Cruz spoke with the cigarette bouncing between his lips. “This is a no-knock warrant.” He nodded toward Sam. “Watch your back. I think the warrant is for you.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Sam leaned against the wooden slats of the porch.

Cruz leaned forward and spoke to Sam. “Because you’re pushing black, and the skinhead with the face full of ink sold scripts to an undercover a couple weeks ago. As soon as he saw you, he pulled out his phone, sent a text that couldn’t have been more than one word.”

Sam’s forehead pinched, and his gaze narrowed on Cruz. “Who the fuck are you, Sherlock Home?”

The cop cars were now flashing their lights and warning residents closest to Kane’s trailer to stay in their homes.

“It’s Sherlock Holmes, and no, I’m observant.”

Kane snorted. “He’s a fucking savant with spider senses.”

Sam stared down the street at the commotion of the bust. “If they’re looking for me, I need to get off the street.” He crushed his cigarette beneath his boot, climbed the few porch steps, and checked the door of the trailer. “I’ll find a way in.” He jumped off the backside of the porch, checking windows as he moved to the rear of the trailer.

Neighbors loitered in their driveways, on the street, and kicked back on their porches to watch the raid happening at Kane’s trailer.

Two minutes later, the door popped open. We filtered into the trailer and bolted the door.

Cruz and Kane opened the curtains in the living room and the blinds in the kitchen.

“Stay out of sight in the bedrooms,” Cruz said. “Cops will do a window search before forcing their way in. Don’t give them anything to see.”

Sam sagged against the wall and glanced to Cruz. “I owe you.”

“I wasn’t trying to save your ass,” he said with a serious note. “But understand, I have a favor from you on tap when I need it.”

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