The Deadline. KiKi Swinson

The Deadline - KiKi Swinson


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see that money? He widened his eyes and shook his head, as if to say, Hell yeah, I see that shit!

      Voices coming from inside made me put my eye back to the hole. I listened closely, fully enthralled and nervous.

      “The first bag is for what we received last night on the first shipment. The second is the first half of what is owed for the missing shipment,” Detective Keith said smoothly, like he was an old-school drug dealer and not actually a cop.

      My heart fluttered under my rib cage like a moth trapped in a jar. So far, I’d seen enough to build the most scandalous story ever. I could feel the cogs and wheels of my mind turning with ideas on how to report on this.

      “Check it,” the Hispanic man said, nodding and handing the bags off to his partners. The two men meticulously lifted each stack of cash, flicking through them as if they were decks of cards. As fast as they flipped, I could tell they were still being meticulous about the count.

      “All here,” one of the Hispanic man’s henchmen said. When they were done counting the money and secured the bags in their vehicle, the Hispanic man stepped closer to the crooked detective.

      Even from my position outside and looking in, I could feel the palpable tension inside. I hurried up and got my phone out. I put the camera up to another tiny slit and tried to record and watch what was happening at the same time. It was risky, I know, but I had to at least get a little bit of footage so that Christian would believe it. I mean, if I were in her shoes and a junior reporter came in with this story, I might not believe the shit either.

      “There’s something else. I have one more point of business to discuss,” the Hispanic man said, looking around the room and then back at Detective Keith.

      I raised my eyebrows in nervous anticipation of what was to come. A hot feeling came over me, which told me something was about to go down. When your gut tells you something, it is usually correct. Anything was possible in this type of business. At least that is what Kyle always told me.

      “I know this will be hard to hear, but I have to do as I was instructed,” the Hispanic man said, sounding as if he was stalling.

      I could see Detective Keith shift his weight from one foot to the next, listening intently.

      “Get to it,” he grumbled, impatiently looking at his watch.

      “My boss wanted me to let you know that there is a traitor in your midst,” the Hispanic man finally relayed, his words dropping like a grenade in an open field. It even made my breath catch in my throat. I moved my eye for a split second to compose myself before I blew my cover.

      “What the fuck are you talking about?” Detective Keith exploded, placing his left hand on his waistband. “Don’t come in here making accusations you’re not ready to defend. Me and my boss don’t take kindly to that shit,” he snarled.

      The Hispanic man’s men moved in like ready soldiers. Detective Keith’s men followed his lead, with their hands on their weapons as well. It looked like a gang-turf war about to go down.

      “Listen, I’m not here to fight,” the Hispanic man said, putting his hands up to ward his guys off. He addressed Detective Keith directly, agitation lacing his words as he bit down into his jaw. “My boss asked me to deliver this as proof to our claims. We don’t ever make allegations that we can’t support. You should know better than that. We are in the same business, and sometimes shit like this can’t be avoided.”

      I sucked in my breath as I watched the Hispanic man reach inside his pocket and take out a package. It was a fairly large envelope. All of Detective Keith’s men shifted in the distance behind him, the metal of their weapons clicking and cocking. Detective Keith took a few steps back, not sure what the next move would be. The Hispanic man and his men did the same, holding their guns at the high ready. Detective Keith tore the envelope open; it was like what was inside was going to determine everyone’s fate. I could see that his hands were shaking. Everyone’s eyes were glued on him, including Kyle’s and mine. It was like time had stood still. The anticipation was buzzing in the air. I thought I could actually hear it. I didn’t even want to blink my eyes, for fear I’d miss something. Detective Keith finally got a look at what was inside. From where I stood and peeked, I could see what looked like pictures in his hand, but I wasn’t sure. Suddenly I could see the dirty detective’s shoulders slump and he inhaled deeply. The scene inside that remote shack was so intense; even I found myself swallowing the fear that had formed into a ball in my throat.

      What the fuck is it they have? My mind raced. I needed answers. And I needed them quick.

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