Free Run Baby Run by Michael Allen Zell

A chalky white man in an African-American church shouldn't be too tricky to spot."
    "Thank you, sir," Delery said, relieved that he wasn't getting the brush-off like from Captain Connell.
    "No. Thank you. Continue on. Can you get over to the Quarter by midday? Club Big Easy on Bourbon Street, between St. Louis and Toulouse. You want to speak with Dom Cavallari. He's the one who runs the place. Don't go in like a cowboy."
    "Got it."
    Jones paused. "And Delery, remember why I asked you out there. Cavallari's the only one you talk to. See if you can pick up something my guys missed."
    "Will do, sir."
    "Remember, we've got to act fast, but again, kid gloves at the club."
    After concluding formalities, Delery decided to head back to his car.
    A red Toyota Corolla came booming up the street. It was stolen in a Mid City carjacking a week prior. The guns inside were also stolen. Blue Shoes' .45 was from a Jefferson Parish gun owner who didn't lock his car doors. Stink's .38 came from an Uptown robbery. Neither firearm was used solely for protection.
    "I might could hit a lick," Blue Shoes said from the driver's side.
    "Naw, naw. " Stink replied.
    "You jes wanna smash Lyric," Blues Shoes accused.
    Stink admitted, matter of fact, "Fuck yeah. I wanna smash her alla time. She got impossible moves. Lyric always take me right up to the mountaintop."
    "Shit, nigga. They all do. You gonna wife that bitch."
    "Naw, you crazy. Ain't gonna wife nobody." Stink firmed up. "Lookit. Where he think he is? This Clouet Kinfolk streets."
    They pulled up next to Bobby Delery who was walking on the sidewalk and about to turn on Urquhart, heading toward the train yard.
    "Hey! Gotta light?" Blue Shoes called out.
    Delery knew what this was about. The day wasn't going his way. "Quick reply and run around the corner. They probably won't back up to come after me," he thought.
    He didn't have a chance to act, though. Blues Shoes had him looking down the barrel of a gun.
    "Bag, muthafucka. Phone too."
    Delery paused, frozen. He'd only had a gun pointed at him twice before.
    "C'mon, bitch. Ain't got all day. Don't make me get out this car."
    With heavy cautious steps, Delery walked up to the car. He leaned down and removed his shoulder bag.
    The robbery was disrupted by a squad car barreling up Clouet. Blue Shoes shoved Delery away from the car with his free hand. Delery was in an awkward stance, and he fell to the ground backward. The Corolla flew off.
    Delery was breathing heavily and loudly. "At least I'm safe now," he whispered between gasps.
    A swirl of heat, car doors, and yelling proved otherwise.
    He was roughly rolled onto his stomach and searched.
    "You selling drugs?" "Keep your fucking hands there;" "Don't move, faggot;" "Who you dealing for?" were a few of the flurry of commands and accusations thrown out.
    "Officers, I'm a criminologist helping NOPD," he tried, attempting to see them better through the sun's glare. He couldn't make out faces or badge numbers.
    "I'm looking at a driver's license that tells me you're a goddamn liar. Illinois. So, you dealing or buying?" was asked in an accent from the sticks.
    The other cop answered his partner. "He's acting like he's on drugs. Breathing heavy. Sweating."
    Delery tried again. "Officers, I'm breathing erratically because I almost got robbed. I'm sweaty because it's summer in New Orleans. I'm... "
    "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" A shoe ground his head into the grass.
    "His bag's clean." Delery's utility knife wasn't found in its tucked away spot in the bag.
    "You dumb motherfucking idiots come down here, show no common sense, and expect us to protect you," the cop with the foot said, pushing hard once again before stepping off Delery.
    "Come on," his partner, the hick, said. "Let's get over to that Baptist church and see if we can find the white guy there. Of all the places to hide out."
    Delery pulled himself off the ground. "I'm the one who saw that guy and called Commander Jones. Hurry, get to the