Free More Money for Good by Franklin White

to make money.” Rossi reached into his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope. “And the money I made tonight is going to help me to continue to do just that.” He opened it up and showed me a wad of bills, way too much to count. “One hundred large,” he said, folding it up and placing it back into his pocket. “I owned the tables tonight.”
    I put two and two together at the night spot we just left. “That’s a hell of an operation they have going,” I mentioned to Rossi.
    â€œRodney’s the truth, man. He’s a man of many ideas.” Rossi waited for the waitress to pour our water. “You and the baby girl enjoy yourselves, tonight? Meet any new friends? ”
    â€œNot like we had hoped,” I told him. Rossi had his eyes on me extra tight like never before. I asked him what the problem was.
    â€œNo problem, bro; to each his own is what I always say.”
    â€œSlow down your thoughts. You know how I do things.”
    Rossi looked over at the girls. “I always thought I was the wild one in this relationship, man, but you’ve stolen my crown.”
    â€œBelieve me, you’re still king in that department. I was there looking for someone.”
    â€œOh yeah? Who?”
    â€œSomeone to lead us to a killer for a friend of a friend . . . And then there’s this two million dollars.”
    â€œtwo million dollars you say?”

Chapter 18
    Who would have thought Rossi would be our in? While we broke bread Rossi revealed that he had been a patron of Rodney’s poker nights for the past two years. He boasted of big-time connections inside his entire operation. When Rossi heard about the two million he wanted in—but at a price. I couldn’t sanction a deal on the prospects of another man’s money. But I did have the ability to get everyone in the room to discuss it. Rossi had a private poker game with a few other insiders of Rodney’s circle in a few nights. I let Rossi know I would parlay a meeting with him and Tavious Sunday at my shop.
    It was storming outside when I arrived at my place of business. It was a few minutes past eleven. Tavious was already there, sitting on the hood of one of the cars left over for the weekend. He didn’t speak when I walked in. As I got closer to him I could see he wasn’t doing so well.
    â€œGeez, did you even hit the other guy?” I wanted to know.
    Tavious had a hell of a bruise under his eye and way too many scars and scrapes to count on his body to go along with his ripped clothing.
    I moved in to take a closer look at him. “What the hell happened?”
    â€œCops . . .”
    â€œCops?”
    â€œYeah, the same two police from the other day. They followed me out of the house. I was on my way to get a bite to eat last night. Hit me with the flashing lights, pulled me over—”
    I cut him off. “And when you rolled down the window, popped you one, right?”
    â€œHow’d you know?”
    It had been the same way they treated me a few years ago. I went into the kitchen of my shop to get Tavious some ice. When I returned Rossi and Tavious had already met.
    Rossi turned away from Tavious and looked at me. “You see this, West?” Rossi asked.
    â€œYeah, I see it—Atlanta’s finest at their best. And get this, one of the officers following him is the one in the same who dragged us into that vacant house.”
    â€œMan, you don’t even know what kind of loser scumbags these dudes are,” Rossi said to Tavious.
    â€œI think I have an idea now,” Tavious admitted. “They dropped me off outside city limits, took all my money, and I had to walk back.”
    I gave Tavious the ice and he placed it on the side of his head.
    â€œFuckin’ bastards,” Rossi let out.
    Tavious took the ice from his head then pointed at Rossi. “So, what’s this all about, man? I need to go lie down.”
    I looked at Rossi then