Chapter Eighteen

Sheridan was the most influential local drug supplier, and he learned of Tyne's problems during the weekend. He soon knew, from asking around, that Frank was the source of the incendiary rumor. Terrell was the lieutenant tasked with bringing Sheridan the news. From Frank's reputation at the local bar, Terrell identified him as a hothead. “Use it,” Sheridan told him.

“He's a cash cow,” Terrell responded. “He's capable of becoming a whale.” 

“Moby Dick was a whale,” Sheridan replied. He already had an interest drawing account at the bank of trouble, and he didn't need any new charitable contributions. “End the association.”

Terrell could hardly explain that Frank was Tyne's customer, not his. He spent the evening doing inventory in a back room, contemplating how best to accomplish his boss' bidding. It was not a big problem, but Terrell knew that after a conversation like the one Sheridan had just had with him, it was his responsibility, if anything went wrong. 

Mid-morning, Terrell met with Tyne, behind the Cafeteria, where the dumpsters were. “Here's what you're gonna do,” he told her. “See to it that Frank is lookin' to buy, and then make sure the weight in the locker is enough to get him 'intent to distribute.' It doesn't matter what he asks for, or how big the buy is supposed to be. When he goes to retrieve it from the locker, tip some imbecile off. Somebody that don't know you, or what you do. Then, when the heat comes down, deny e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g, even to his face! You don't even know him, never met him, don't even know his name, got it?”

Tyne was somewhat awed by the degree of this mischief. “Nobody will ever buy from me again!” she protested.

“Tyne, nobody BUT that loudmouth ever buys from you anyway. It won't take five virgins, and you'll already be making more money again than you are now. Anybody gonna protect his ass?” Terrell followed up carefully. He didn't need any loose ends.

“This society bitch, Karyn is his official girlfriend. I don't know how she's connected, but he's her dog. She just doesn't keep him on too short of a leash,” Tyne swore, with candid detail. 

Terrell's deadpan expression belied his ironic satisfaction. This was a juicy plum.

“She'll play ball,” Terrell assured Tyne. They all wanna be so important, and they all answer to the same base needs, he thought. It would be a pleasure doing business with Karyn.