The next step

The recon

"Johnny Maran."

"Go home. You're not dancing tonight. Matter of fact..." She trailed off, quickly scanning the crowd. Once she caught a glimpse of Charmaine, she got her attention and waved her over.

Charmaine looked dejected.

"Who's on the schedule this weekend?"

Charmaine's head snapped up as she jolted back into work mode. "Brittany, Tasha, Cinnamon...and this one." She nodded towards the teary-eyed dancer.

"Take this one off the schedule and see if anyone wants her shifts. Actually, split her shifts between those that want them and Miracle. She's been practicing relentless and has been asking for more stage time."

Sarah's tears dried as she whipped her head up in shock, immediately meeting Kris' hard gaze.

She dropped her head once she realized a staring contest would never work in her favor.

"Go. Home." was the last statement uttered. With that, the teary girl got up, collected her belongings, and left.

Before she'd even scooted out of her seat, Kris was already texting someone furiously and hadn't even bothered looking up.

'I need to know everything about Johnny Maran. Everything.'

A messenger arrived at her apartment the next morning with a large, thick, white envelope. She signed for it, grabbed a cup of coffee, and trotted over to the couch to read the incriminating information.

Her sources had always been prompt when background checks needed to be done. This packet felt a little heavier than normal, but this guy was an obvious drug dealer, so it was no surprise.

She spread the documents over the length of the coffee table.

"Jesus Christ." She muttered under her breath. There were surveillance camera photos, transcripts of wire taps, addresses, and timelines. This guys schedule was itemized from the time he woke up til the time he went to bed. You name it, and there it was. There were even pictures of this guys family.

A long heavy sigh escaped as she realized she may have bitten off more than she could chew. But still, she needed more.

She quickly got up, got dressed, and left.

Arriving at Sarah's home, she was surprised at the conditions.

The address on her employment record was an unfamiliar road. There were sprawling mcmansion's on either side. Her GPS led her to a long driveway that circled in front of the largest house she'd seen thus far. There were grounds attendants working. She wanted to verify that she truly had the correct address.

The three story estate was massive. Large enough for multiple families to reside in. An overtly abundant spectical of wealth. The white brick looked brand new and the greco roman collums gave it a 'plantation' feel. She shuttered and grimaced at the thought.

Exiting her car, she marveled at the landscape and took in all the sights and smells before heading to the front door.

Before she could even reach out for the doorbell, an elderly gentleman opened it to greet her. He was dressed in a tailored penguin suit that reminded her of something that would be worn at a piano recital. She chuckled to herself.

"Good morning ma'am."

"Good morning kind sir. I was hoping to catch Ms. Sarah home today," she said in her sweetest passive voice.

"Yes ma'am. Please follow me."

The butler led her through the foyer to a sitting room beneath the extensive staircase.

"If you wouldn't mind waiting here."

Kris nodded politely and found a comfortable armchair.

Within a few minutes, she was face-to-face with her teary-eyed drug peddler.

She motioned for her to take a seat before beginning.

"I wasn't willing to hear your side of the story last night, so I'm here to gather it now. We're gonna do it like this- I need you to fully explain why, what, and how you came to be a drug dealer, under my nose, in my club. If your explanation meets my expectations, we'll go from there. If you leave any details out, I will consider that your formal resignation and you will no longer be under my employment. Deal?"

Mouth agape, the teary Sarah began to spill everything.

Taking it all in and nodding every so often, once Sarah stopped talking, Kris stood up, thanked Sarah for the information and left.

She had a meeting with the sender of the intel in 30 minutes and needed to get across town, without delay, in order to make it in time.

"He's no one to fool with."

A deep sigh escaped Kris. "I need to keep him, his s**t, and anyone associated with him out of my club. How can I do it?" She was genuinely concerned that his territory would extend past the east side and land directly at her doorstep.

A crumpled face across the table met her concerned look with one of his own.

"There's information on this man stemming back years, but yet he's not in prison, not chased out of the city...who's protecting him?"

A lowered gaze and a sigh was all her companion could offer.

They sat in silence sipping coffee.

"There's only one thing I can do to help..." The man trailed off. "There's a piece of property he's been trying to get his hands on, but the owner won't budge. They're not interested in selling to a gangster."

"Gangster?" Kris asked shocked. "I thought he was a drug dealer."

His gaze fell on hers. "Keep reading what I sent you. Really read it."

With that, he scribbled some information on a napkin, slid it over to her and left.

'Mark Thomas, Realtor'

12225 Warfel Road