Tank
RAINA WAS QUIET and unusually pale when the police asked us questions about the shootings.
“No, I have no idea who shot at my house,” I told them, wanting to handle the matter myself.
“Is that right?” answered one of the cops, Mike Tolbert, with a cool smile. “It’s funny how you’re drawing a complete blank. As usual...”
“I’m sorry, have we met?” I asked, glaring at the man. His attitude pissed me off and I was already in a pissy mood. “Because you seem to think you know a lot about me when I’ve never seen you before in my life. Hell, maybe you know something about tonight’s shooting?”
“You and I both know that it has something to do with club rivalry. If you don’t want to do any follow-up on this, or press charges, that’s your right, but don’t think for a second that if some
