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answer right back. He just puffed on his smoke. “My Grands told me that you really helped her out a few years back with some real gangster-like situation.”
    â€œIs that right?”
    â€œShe didn’t tell me the details, but she told me enough to know you got some skills to get things done.”
    I was glad to hear that. I’d tried to forget about the whole ordeal myself because I almost got Lauren killed behind it all. But I was sure Mrs. Bullock didn’t give out any real details.
    â€œShe told me that you have the knack for finding things out. Sort of like a private detective without any credentials.”
    â€œGeez, I wouldn’t go that far.” I had to chuckle at her assessment. “I just own a car repair shop . . . That’s what I do.”
    â€œI hear you, West,” he said. “But one thing I’ve learned in prison is to trust your instincts . . . those guts, man. If you don’t, you’ll find yourself laid out somewhere with no one to help. But you trust that feeling inside and it will keep you alive until the man upstairs has your place ready for you.”
    â€œNo doubt about it,” I said back.
    We were at a quick pause. I was coming close to letting Tavious know that if he had anything on his mind to not hesitate to come see me. Tavious in the meantime was in the middle of a hard, long draw on a fresh smoke. He threw it to the ground, exhaled, then said, “I lost two million dollars, West, and I need you to help me find it.”

Chapter 5
    Later that night, after eating the delicious meal Lauren had prepared for dinner—it was baked chicken, cabbage, and sweet cornbread, with a cherry-topped cheesecake for dessert—I grabbed my jacket so I could go finish the conversation I was having with Tavious. He told me there was something he wanted to show me and was unable to tell me at the shop, because our conversation was cut short by the two wreckers lugging in two cars, both with transmission issues.
    When she first heard of my plans, Lauren wasn’t very happy about me wanting to venture out into the streets, as I still hadn’t taken care of her needs and she was ready. She even had on a red baby-doll to insinuate the type of night she was expecting. I kissed her on the cheek and promised her that all would be well when I returned, and she assured me things were okay when she put a smile on her face, and that is exactly the reason we were together.
    I drove over to Mrs. Bullock’s to pick Tavious up. As soon as he got in the car, he looked around inside and told me that he remembered when his grandfather used to drive him around in it. Then he began to give me directions on where we were going, which took us about twenty minutes to get to.
    I parked my car on a borderline creepy street in a residential neighborhood that had only one working, dim streetlight. There was no hiding the fact that the economic downturn was affecting the neighborhood as we passed a few homes that looked as though they had been boarded up for quite some time. Tavious pointed to an old-time colonial-looking number. I stopped the car and parked across the street from it. Through the darkness, this house didn’t look nearly as bad as the others. My eyes had to venture past a few stragglers who were walking down the street and had a brown paper bag in rotation as they moved about to their destination.
    I looked up at the house. As much as I could see, it was painted white with black trim, with trees between the two houses that sat to either side of it. I turned to Tavious in the car. “So, what’s so special about this place?”
    Tavious rolled his window down all the way. “It’s where my money is,” he said.
    I looked back at the house again. I couldn’t tell if anyone was home because there was just one light on outside by the porch. “Who lives there?” I asked him.
    â€œFriend,” Tavious shot