CHAPTER ELEVEN

Unable to run quicker than a well built man in his early thirties who still went jogging every morning and who had chased criminals down dark, narrow alleys more times than he could count, Mercedes had been easily caught up with by FBI Agent Snyder, who had been stalking her for a while, in the name of investigative duties.

At this time, she had been left with no other choice than getting into his car and agreeing to a questioning, after he had flashed his badge and threatened to arrest her.

Presently, he had locked all the doors and gotten his tape recorder out, placing it on the dashboard.

"Name, please.." He said.

Rolling her tongue around inside her mouth, feeling her teeth and coming to the annoying realization that she would have to answer whatever questions this federal agent had to throw at her, Mercedes took a deep breath before saying, "Mercedes Gomez."

Agent Snyder smiled slyly before adding, "Not Coochie, no?"

"'Coochie' is not my name, young man. I've told you my name, so