Delicate Rain
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Vin and Joe sat in Vin’s office. They sipped nervously on whiskey drinks, thinking over their next move. The heat was high after Rain’s killing, but the demand for Delicate Rain hadn’t softened. Vin stared at the large bag of orange pills on his desk.
“Any word from Ben?” he looked across the desk at Joe.
“Nothin’, man,” Joe sighed, “the guy just kinda fell off the damn earth.”
“He’s somewhere, Joe, everyone is somewhere. Find him.”
“I’m tryin’ my best, Vin. I’ve got people out there all times of the day, but nobody’s comin’ up with anythin’. Not so much as smell of him.”
“Jesus Christ, where is that man?” Vin groaned, looking down at the large back on his desk. “How the hell are we going to move this stuff? I’m losing all my top dealers. You can’t put all of it out, and the wholesalers are getting impatient.”
“Deacon especially,” Joe pointed, “he’s developed a bit of an addiction since Ben and Rain sold him that first batch.”
“I’ll bet,” Vin nodded. “You need to work twenty-four hours a day before I can figure who to bring up.”
“Shit, man, you gotta be kiddin’ me.”
Vin was about to assure Joe he wasn’t kidding in the least when a loud bang came from the lobby. Both of their heads instantly stood straight up and turned to the door to the office. They looked at each other after a moment.
“What the hell was that?” Joe wondered.
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Vin scoffed. “Go find out.”
Joe did as he was told and headed for the hall, but just as he got his hand on the door, it burst open, knocking him over. A slew of uniformed police officers poured into the room, pistols and shotguns raised and ready. Vin shot up from his seat but didn’t move an inch after that. Joe quickly got up and stood just as still as his boss. The final officer to enter the room was frustratingly familiar to Vin.
“Delicate Rain,” Leyland peered at the bag on Vin’s desk, “how expected.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Vin snarled at the sergeant. “You don’t have anything on us. How could you’ve possibly gotten a warrant to search this place?”
“Not a search warrant,” Leyland corrected, “a warrant for both of your arrests.”
“Bullshit,” Joe spat, “what for?”
“Oh, take your pick,” Leyland smiled. “I’ve got drug manufacturing; drug trafficking; countless murders, including the credits to society that were the KC Devils, you can take your pick. But, you know, me being me, I’m going to have to give this justice to Rain Phillipa,” he shot a smug gaze at both Vin and Joe. “Vincent Reese and Joe Pryman, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and being accomplices to murder, among other things. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”
“Fuck you,” Vin sneered as an officer cuffed him.
“I thought so,” Leyland replied. “Get ‘em outta here,” he instructed the other officers, who happily escorted the two of them out of the office. Leyland couldn’t help but grin as he watched the two of them being walked out in handcuffs. The fight was far from over, but at least it had begun. Rain Phillipa would get her day of justice soon enough.
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