Late in the evening by ten o’clock, the cab Roland took skidded to a stop in the West Lake center, where he was meeting up with Taylor.
The place was crowded as usual. Around that area was never quiet. It was a nonstop busy area filled with people present for diverse reasons, from trading, chilling, events, and all alike.
Roland glanced out the side window at the massive erected buildings, skyscrapers, and the cathedrals, also at the people walking and hanging around the Centre.
“Perfect,” he whispered. He blinked and picked up his phone, already dialling, but before he could finish, a call came in. It was Taylor.
Roland answered and placed the phone on his left ear. “Detective Wayne,”
“Mr. Smith,” Taylor responded quickly. “I just arrived at the West Lake Center. Where are you?”
R
