Alex left with Bella and Jackson and I put the chairs and umbrellas away. I found Alex’s rental car in the parking lot. It was the first time in months that I’d been behind the wheel of a car and I felt out of place as I headed east on the highway into Destin.
Bella had given me David’s address and I plugged it into the GPS in the rental. The computerized voice guided me past the restaurants, hotels and shops and into a neighborhood built around a golf course. Wide, expensive homes lined the fairways, separated by palm trees and pools. I immediately felt at ease because no matter what was going to go down, I knew David wouldn’t risk his lavish lifestyle by going after me in his own neighborhood. He was one of the new style drug kings-he liked the money that came with the dirty work, but wanted the world to think he’d done it legitimately.
The GPS told me I’d arrived at my destination in front of a two-story, white-stucco home. A brick walkway, lined with flowering shrubs, led to an oversized mahogany door. The emerald green lawn could’ve served as a fairway and a white SUV with tricked-out rims was parked in the crescent-shaped drive.
I made a U-turn and parked on the opposite side of the street. I slung the backpack with the cash over my shoulder and crossed the quiet street to the front door. I pushed the button next to the door and heard the bell chime in the house.
The door opened and a black guy about my size with red hair and hazel eyes looked me up and down without saying anything. He wore an olive-green tank top that exposed arms wired with muscle and khaki shorts that hung to his knees. Faded tattoos blended into his coffee-colored arms and a c-shaped scar decorated the skin just below his bottom lip.
“Help you?” he asked, glancing over my shoulder and scanning the street before returning his eyes to me.
“Need to see David.”
“He ain’t here.”
“When’s he gonna be back?”
“Dunno, my man. Maybe I can help you out.”
“No. I need him.”
He gestured at my cheek. “You fall down or something?”
“Or something, yeah.”
A slow smile crept over his face. “Unlucky.”
“You sure he’s not here?” I asked. “Because I got a backpack full of something he wants.”
“Told you I could help you out.”
“Need to give it to him personally.”
He shrugged. “Well, he ain’t here.”
I nodded. “Alright. Tell him I’ll bring the money back some other time.”
I turned and headed down the walk.
“Yo.”
I stopped and turned around.
“Hold up,” he said, frowning. He ambled down the walk to me. “You droppin’ off cash?”
“Pretty sure that’s what I said.”
“Drops go through me. I’ll take it.”
“Not this one,” I said. “I need to give it to him myself.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “I don’t recognize you.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, most people droppin’ off money, I seen them before.”
“This is my first time.”
“Then you don’t know the drill.”
“Look, we can stand here and do the tough guy thing all day,” I said. “You can tell me all about yourself and what the drill is. But I’m still not giving you the bag. Has nothing to do with you. And any heat comes your way for letting me in, I’ll take it for you. Not looking to screw up your day. But I’m giving the bag to him myself.”
He rolled his tongue around inside his mouth and squinted at me. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll see if Davey boy will see you. But one piece of advice?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t go for the gun on your hip,” he said, nodding at me. “Because then I’ll have to shoot you.” He grinned. “And I’m fast money.”
I thought I’d tucked it away enough, but either I hadn’t or he was that good. I was pretty sure he was that good.
“I’ll leave it in the car if you want,” I said. “I won’t need it.”
He raised an eyebrow, the hazel eyes amused. “You sure?”
“This doesn’t seem like the kinda place anything really goes down,” I said.
He snorted. “Damn straight. Just rich white people, golf carts and tiny dogs.”
“You want me to toss it?”
He studied me for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, you good.” He leaned his head toward the house. “Follow me.”
He took me into a domed entryway with marble flooring and shut the door behind me. The cool, air-conditioned air wrapped around me like an icy blanket and I shivered.
“Dude likes it like Alaska in here,” he said. “Wait here.”
He disappeared around the corner.
The interior of the house was right out of a magazine. Expensive furnishings, over-sized paintings and nothing personal. It was meant to show off wealth rather than indicate that anyone lived there.
The guy returned and raised his eyebrow again but without any amusement. “You Braddock?”
I nodded.
He glanced over his shoulder and stepped in closer.
“Okay, just so you know,” he said, lowering his voice. “Every white boy in there is carrying and they all got hard-ons when Davey boy said your name. Be cool and it’ll be cool. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Don’t be thanking me, big man,” he said, leading the way. “I’ll be the first one to shoot you. I ain’t jokin’ ‘bout bein’ fast money.”