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grabbed Jennifer’s purse from the front seat of the car. Two yellow pills with an X on each of them fell out of the purse.
“Jennifer, what are these?”
“Those are for my sinuses.”
Ken showed them to Mark. “Looks like X to me.”
“I don’t give a damn what they look like. They are for my sinuses.”
“We’ll have them tested, and if this is ecstasy … I will make sure you get indicted. You know what you can get for possession of X?” Ken asked.
“Five years per pill,” Mark lied.
Jennifer covered her face and began to cry.
Mark put his arms around her shoulder. “Jennifer, do you want to help us now? I want to help you. I don’t want to send you to jail. You don’t deserve that.”
Jennifer looked up at Mark. “What do you want me to do?” “We just want you to tell us the truth.”
“What do you want to know?”
Mark pulled a card from his wallet then handed it to Jennifer. “Come to my office tomorrow and we will forget all about the ecstasy. If you don’t, I will have to charge you.”
“What is the best time?”
“Two p.m.”
Jennifer wiped her eyes with her hands. “Thank you for not taking me to jail.”
The trooper wrote her a warning ticket. He ordered her to leave the car because he would take her home.

Chapter 4
    F
atboy had just dropped two kilos off at Twin’s house. J-Black tailed him in a white work van; two to three car lengths behind him.
Fatboy stopped at a gas station, and J-Black parked at the Waffle House across the street. Ten minutes later, Fatboy stopped and got a pedicure.
J-Black waited in another parking lot, reading the sports section of the USA Today . “Bitch-ass nigga.”
Finally, after Fatboy had run all his errands, he drove home.
“Damn, this muthafucka got it going the fuck on,” J-Black said to himself. He got out of the work van, which had Lakewood Home Improvement on the side panels. He walked to the house and rang the bell.
Fatboy came to the door drinking bottled water.
“Damn, you live here, bro?” He stood in wrinkled overalls.
“Yeah.”
J-Black smiled. “I love to see us brothers doing good.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean? But what can I do for you?”
“Actually, I have my own home improvement service, and I was just wondering is there anything that you would like to improve on your home, though I couldn’t imagine what. Man, this thing is amazing. How many square feet do you have here?”
“Forty-five hundred.”
“Man, my whole family could live in here.”
“So what’s your name?”
“Kenny. Kenny White.”
“Kenny, I’m Tommy. So what kind of home improvement do you do?”
“Floors … you know … painting, cabinets … you name it. I can do just about anything.”
“You do hardwood flooring?”
“I’m the best.” J-Black smiled. He’d never even polished a floor.
“Okay, I was thinking of putting some hardwood floors down. How much do you charge?”
“First I would have to measure your floors.”
“Cool.”
“A’ight. I’ll go get the tape measure from the van. I’ll be right back.”
In the back of the van, he retrieved a sawed-off pump shotgun and eased it down the leg of his pants, concealing it.
Fatboy’s door was still open. J-Black walked in and found him with his back turned, feeding fish in a huge in-wall aquarium. J-Black pulled the pump out and put it against Fatboy’s back. “Nigga, I will blow a hole in your back. Where is the goddamn money?”
Fatboy raised his arms.
“Put your arms down. I ain’t tell you to do shit.”
“What did I do to you, man?”
“Don’t say shit. Just sit on that chair over there by the fireplace.”
Fatboy complied.
“You see, nigga, you ain’t gotta do nothing wrong. It’s just the fact that niggas is hungry out here. You got it and I want it.”
“What do you want? Some money?”
J-Black stared at Fatboy. He could see the tears welling up in the man’s eyes. He’d seen that look so many times. He loved to see people in fear. “Damn right I want money. I want