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going on, it has been hectic."
    "I understand. I should've given you more time before I called, but there were some business matters that really couldn't wait. I spoke to Supreme's attorney and he said you're in charge of his estate, so I need your clearance for a few things."
    "That's not a problem. Just let me know how I can help."
    "It would be great if you could squeeze me in for lunch or dinner in the next couple of days, so we can go over some paperwork."
    "No problem, how about tomorrow night?"
    "Great, I'll make dinner reservations at Cipriani for seven, is that good for you?"
    "Actually, if you don't mind, can we have dinner here at my house? I can have Anna prepare a lovely meal. I'm just not up for going out in public yet."
    "I'm so sorry. How insensitive of me. I would love to come over for dinner. Is the same time alright?"
    "Of course. Is there anything in particular you want Anna to cook?"
    "A good steak is always nice."
    "Then steak it is. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Jamal."
    I was looking forward to dinner with Jamal. Even when we were in high school, I always felt as if I could trust him. Something about him seemed so honorable, which was rare coming for the grimy Brooklyn projects we grew up in. I needed a confidant, and I hoped Jamal could be it. As I continued to think about Jamal, my cell rang and the call was from a 917 number that I didn't recognize. At first I wasn't going to answer it, but then I said, "Fuck it." I heard loud music in the back when I answered the phone.
    "Hello," someone mumbled, but the music was so loud I couldn't hear shit.
    "I can't hear you!" I screamed over the phone so whoever was calling me could either hang up and try back later, or go to a less noisy area and speak the fuck up.
    "My bad, is this better now?" a familiar-sounding male voice asked.
    "Yeah, who is this?"
    "It's me, Mike. And please don't hang up the phone, Precious."
    "Mike, what do you want and how did you get my cell number?"
    "To answer your first question, I want to see you. Precious, we need to talk."
    "We ain't got nothin' to talk about."
    "It's about Nico. I have some information that I believe will be helpful to you."
    "Now why would you want to help me? I thought Nico was your friend, or does a snake like you have no friends."
    "Precious, there is no need for the venom. Like I told you at the funeral, I had no idea what Nico was up to. The streets and I are very disappointed with his actions. Supreme was a legend in this industry. He will be sorely missed."
    "Oh, it was fucked up for him to take out Supreme, but it was okay for him to try and have me wiped off the face of this earth?"
    "I'm not saying that, Precious, but the Supreme ordeal came from nowhere. So, can we meet somewhere and talk? I promise what I have to say is of great importance."
    "Then say it now."
    "I don't disclose pertinent information over the phone."
    "I'll tell you what, Mike. Since my first priority is to have my husband's killer brought to justice, then I'll allow you ten minutes of my time. But you'll have to come to my home alone, and of course my bodyguards will search you. So don't come armed, or you won't make it past the gate. You can come tomorrow evening at six. Don't be late." I hung up the phone dreading to see Mike. I would handle my business with him before my dinner with Jamal. Mike was a snake, but he might be the link I need to bring down Nico. Only time will tell.
    I spent the rest of my day trying to decide what questions to ask Mike. I knew he had a lot of street connections, and more than likely had an idea of Nico's whereabouts. Still, I had to be careful with my approach. He might be some bigtime music mogul now, but just like me, the hood ran through his blood. If I played my cards right, Mike could be an endless pool of information. If I came at him wrong, I wouldn't get shit.
    That evening when I went to bed, I tossed and turned the entire night. My mind was flooded with questions regarding Nico, and my