Sublime

I came here to Miami to study management at Miami-Dade.

Sergeant Wilson knows I run a few girls here. There’s no problem. Why don’t you call Sergeant Wilson? I pay him every week. You guys ought to get together.”

There was no name, and he didn’t know anyone who lived out this far in Kendall. Then he recalled that this was Susan Waggoner’s address. Inasmuch as 157th Avenue was Dade County, and not Miami Police Department territory, Hoke rarely got this far west. All of West Kendall came under Metro Police jurisdiction.

He had then written a ten-page memorandum to the warden, explaining in detail how the staff could be cut and the service improved if certain correction officers and prison chefs were removed and replaced. To Freddy’s surprise, he found himself back on the yard.

In Miami, a family could break up in a hurry

He then traded the Chesterfields (the favorite brand among black prisoners) and 150 of the Milky Ways for a single cell.

Sergeant Hoke Moseley, Homicide, Miami Police Department, filled a Styrofoam cup with free coffee—his third—picked up a glazed doughnut from the assortment on the clear plastic tray and put it back, then doctored his coffee with Sweet ‘n’ Low and N-Rich Coffee Creamer.

The girl was his only lead to Mendez, and he didn’t intend to take any chances. The white TransAm, with its Kansas license plate, would be easy to follow, whereas his own beatup Pontiac blended right in with the thousands of dented cars on Miami’s highways.