“Nice,” said McKinley. “What you want for it?”
“Nine hundred, for you.”
“For me? Shit.”
“I could sell you a Davis for a lot cheaper, I guess. I figured, you driving a Mercedes, you don’t want to be carrying the kind of gun be in the glove box of a Neon.”
“True. But that don’t mean I’m gonna take my money and burn it in the street.”
“Nine hundred is damn near close to my cost. And I’m gonna throw in another brick of bullets for you, like I always do.”
“What about another magazine?”
“I got one. But you’re gonna have to purchase that.”
“Just the bullets, then, man.”
McKinley sighted down the barrel, then inspected the piece. The truth was, he knew as little about guns as he knew about cars. But he always ordered the most expensive item on the menu. Man had to show off the rewards of his hard work, otherwise none of it meant shit.
McKinley placed the gun back on the tray. He poured some beer into a pilsner glass and had a long swig. “That young boy downstairs, he makin’ a buy for you today?”
“Yeah, he’s leaving soon.”
“I’m lookin’ for somethin’ on the low-end side. A revolver, maybe, for one of my troops.”
Foreman had planned to lay a cheap piece on Durham, to simmer him down over the mix-up with Mario. Now he’d have to think of something else.
“I can do that,” said Foreman.
“Might have some trouble coming up; want to make sure all my people are ready.”
Foreman nodded. He didn’t want to talk about Dewayne Durham if that’s where this was going. He had always stayed at a distance during these wars, and he was determined to remain neutral in this latest conflict.
“Might need you to deliver it to me, later on,” said McKinley.
“Prefer to do it right here,” said Foreman in a friendly way. “You can always send one of your boys, you don’t want to come back out yourself.”
“You don’t want to get involved, huh?”
Foreman shrugged. He looked over at Montgomery, who was kind of staring off, not paying much attention to the two of them.
“You ain’t afraid of Dewayne Durham, are you?” said McKinley.
“I sell to everyone,” said Foreman. “I told you that the first time I met you. The thing is, I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was taking sides. Someone like Durham might see me over at your place on Yuma, get the wrong idea. And why wouldn’t he see me? He ain’t but across the alley. Wouldn’t be good for my business.”
“He’s gonna go down,” said McKinley. “When he does, I’m gonna remember who stood next to me. That might be good for your business.”
As you’ll go down, too. You all do. And you ain’t all that special, either, thinkin’ you’re the only one’s gonna keep me in business. There’s never a shortage of young men down here to take your place.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Or maybe I should tip on back here,” said McKinley, “seein’ as how I missed your woman. I do like to look at her.”
Foreman felt his face grow warm at the implied threat. He knew of McKinley’s violent reputation with women.
“You’re always welcome,” said Foreman, forcing a smile. “I’ll call you later, soon as my boy comes back with that piece.”
“Here’s your money,” said McKinley. He rested the beer glass on the tray and peeled off nine hundred-dollar bills from a roll. He holstered the Sig in the waistband of his warm-up pants and dropped the matching top out over the band. Montgomery picked up a box of bullets without asking if he should.
“I’ll meet you out front with that brick,” said Foreman.
“Nice doin’ business with you.”
Foreman shook McKinley’s sweaty hand. “You too, dawg.”
McKinley head-motioned Montgomery. “Let’s go, Mike.”
STRANGE and Quinn walked through the woods to their original vantage point, where they could see the front of the house. Soon they watched McKinley and his sidekick emerge from the door, pass under the pink awning, and stand by the Benz in the circular drive.
“They’re leaving,” said Quinn, keeping his voice low.
“Fat boy got his new gun,” said Strange, “so I guess they’re done. Least we know now what’s going on in that house. I’ll be giving Blue the plate numbers off muscleman’s Caddy. If I’m guessing right, that’s his ride. I’m sure the MPD and the PG County boys, not to mention the ATF, will be happy to get a local arms dealer off the street.”