I watch as she strides off, back into the sunlight. A few of Tariq's crew begin talking to her, almost like she's one of them. I smile inwardly and wish that I could have a bit of her gregarious nature. Instead well I'm…I'm me. Tariq shuffles his feet, kicking against the stonewall.

The usually verbose and loud kid stands quiet staring at the ground as if something huge is about to happen. Like it's about to open up and swallow him hole. He's absolutely massive and could easily take me, but I guess a part of him is just too tired to fight.

Yokas and I have known him through most of our stint in the 55. Ever since he was about eight or nine. It makes me feel old seeing him now. He was always a cheeky little bastard, too much mouth and not enough action. The he hit thirteen and he matched his talkative ways with more action than was required. He's been involved in almost every crime I can think of – assault, robbery, drugs…and yet somehow, in some sick twisted way, I think of him as just a kid. A kid who got on the wrong side of the tacks. I think I'm beginning to sound like Yokas.

He runs a hand over his shaved head and rests it against the wall. "You a detective now?" he asks suddenly, without looking up. I clear my throat.

"No. Just helpin' out Yokas," I inform him, pacing to the opposite wall. He nods a smile ghosting his face.

"She reminds me o' my Mom," he tells me, gazing in her direction, "She acts like her. Always seen some sorta good in me."

"Well that's Yokas for ya, always assumin' the best of everybody. You think being a cop for twelve year would've changed her…me…I see people for what they really are," I say, staring at him. His gaze connects with mine, that eerie smile still etched on his face.

"That's why I wanted to talk to you and not her," he replies, "She's gonna try and stop me no matter what. You…I think you might just wanna see my ass in jail."

I laugh, half amused, half disappointed. "Well…I wouldn't mind either way."

"She's good with the tough love though," he says still looking at Faith, "I think if I did kill somebody for this she wouldn't hesitate with lockin' me up."

"I agree," I say, "She's a good cop."

"Detective," Tariq amends hastily, cutting his eyes to my face.

"Yeah…"

"I don't wanna give any information Boscorelli. Just walk away now, 'cause I ain't givin' ya nothin'," he tells me, his tone ominous.

"You know I can't do that Combs," I reply with sigh.

"Listen to me for one second a'right?" he says, stepping forward, "I saw how you acted when I went all up on your girl there…"

I frown not exactly pleased with his choice of statement but I figure it's best to let him continue. "Could you imagine if someone were to kill her? And I ain't threatening or nothin' I'm just saying….wouldn't you wanna catch the mother fucker that did it? Wouldn't you want to hurt him just so he could feel the tenth of pain she felt…"

I listen to him and turn my head towards Yokas. She stands with the girls, talking as if they were her own kids, laughing with them as they attempt to take her out to dance. A smile spreads across my face. And I'm not sure why. I guess I just like it when she's smiling. She looks towards me her grin fading, but her eyes still sparkling in the light. I take a breath feeling the intensity of her gaze and turn back to Tariq.

"Wouldn't you wanna kill 'em Boscorelli?" he asks, his voice verging on emotional, "The woman I love is dead. My world is comin' down around me. Just 'cause some fuckin' lil' rich kid with too much time on his hands got bored…now tell me Officer. What would you do if it were the other way round and you were standin' in my place today?"

I stare over at Faith, who's in the process of striping out of her restricting jacket, the heat obviously getting to her. Sweat pours down her chest heading down the v of her white t-shirt that's clinging to her sticky body. She pulls back her hair, fanning her face with her hand. I feel my breath hitch and I turn back to Tariq.

"Now which "fuckin' rich kid" would this be Combs?" I ask, diverting his attention back to the situation at hand. He looks startled by my choice to hear that part of his sentence. He mumbles something, digging into his pockets for what I can only guess to be a cigarette.

Or a gun.

The way he's feeling now I wouldn't put it passed him. "Come on Combs, I get what you're saying to me alright. And trust me I wanna kill this ass wipe with my own bare hands, but I gotta do this Yokas' way."

He chuckles and I can almost feel the sarcasm oozing from his body language. He however chooses not to react to my statement. "Here man, come on. Help me out. I tell ya what…give me eight days. If we don't get this guy in eight days I'll hold him fuckin' down while you do whatever it is you need to, to make yourself feel better."

He considers my offer, pacing the ground his head hanging low. "Six."

"Six what?"

"Six days. That's what I'll give you. But if you don't catch the little shit head by then I swear to you Boscorelli…"

"Ok! I get it. Six days… now where can I find this guy that you thinks involved?"

He tells me about what he knows, rushing through the information. I'm afraid he'll recoil and decide it ain't worth it but he doesn't. He gives me an address and I thank him as I move to Yokas.

I squint unable to see her in the crowd. Music blares in my ears and I look over to where a few teens have gathered. A small number of kids dance in the middle and my eyes scan the faces searching for hers. Finally my gaze rests on Faith, sitting on the hood of a black convertible. A young, dark guy has her by the hands and stands out in front of her moving to the music, trying to convince her to join in. She's giggling, shaking her head and tries to break free from his grasp. He eventually nods, defeated and she looks over to where I stand. She smiles and jumps down, grabbing her jacket off the hood.

She skips over to me, her face red and flustered. "How'd it go?" she ask breathlessly.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to be socialising with these guys?" I say frowning. She rolls her eyes and pouts her lips. "I mean you wanna show some sort of authority over 'em. You want them to respect ya…"

"Bosco. They're just kids, and I'd rather have them likin' me than thinkin' I'm a threat," she tells me, raising both eyebrows, "Now…what ya got for me?"

I sigh. "One of his boys saw her talkin' to a white kid outside Lily's joint on 75th the night she was killed," I inform her as she falls into my step.

"Lily's on 75th?" she asks, her brow furrowing. "That's a pretty good neighbourhood for Jacinta to be hanging about in…what…. was she back on the game?"

"Apparently they were acting real friendly so maybe," I reply, "His boy followed them to a hotel and checked out their names in the log in."

"And?"

"James Brent," I say, "That's the name they came up with. And apparently he attends St Joseph's school up town."

She raises her eyes brows and takes a deep breath. "That's a pretty good Catholic private school."

"Yeah…bet you Daddy's money is readily available but he's not," I say, "Neglected rich kids eh? What can you do?"

She grins as we reach the car. "You're good at this," she comments. I roll my eyes.

"I'm good when I want somethin'," I say, "In this case I wanna catch a murderous, crazy perp."

She's still smiling though, "My baby's all grown up."

"Yokas," I say gazing at her across the bonnet.

"Yeah?"

"Get in the damn car."

Notes and Summary:

1. Firstly thank you all for reading and reviewing - it means a lot to me. xxx

2. Trying to keep in with TW although hard at times. If you think my characters are going a bit off track please say.