The Fury - Jason Pinter [46]
"Huh. Didn't realize it."
"Listen," I said. "I have a favor to ask of you. A big
one."
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137
"You said that already. What gives?"
"I need you to order something from Vinnie," I said.
"I want to know who he works for."
Rose sat back in her overstuffed leather couch. The
confident woman I'd just met looked like she'd just
been swallowed up whole.
"I've been clean for a long time," she said. "I've put
that behind me."
"I don't want you to use anything," I said, attempt
ing to clarify things but wondering if that mattered at
all. "All I need is for whoever's playing Vinnie this
week to come here so I can follow him."
"So why don't you call him yourself?"
"They won't know me," I said. "They'll trust you.
I'm willing to bet that whoever these Vinnies work for,
they keep a record of addresses, customers. The runners
might be idiots, but their bosses never are. I intend to
follow this guy, see where he goes, and I don't want to
chance being recognized. They know you."
Rose shook her head violently, as though shooing
away demons that were swirling around. A pang of
guilt thudded in my stomach, and I wondered if my onetrack mind in finding Stephen's killer could hurt others
as well. The last thing I wanted to do was encourage
Rose to relapse, but...I didn't know where else to turn.
And I needed to know where the stream started. Or at
least needed to find the next level.
"I'll do it," Rose said. "But I won't order anything
stronger than weed, and I won't pay for a cent of it."
"Fair enough," I said. "What's the smallest amount
you can order?"
"You don't want the smallest amount, trust me."
138
Jason Pinter
"Why not?"
"They'll know my phone number. Let's just say back
in the day, I never ordered the smallest amount. Not to
mention I haven't ordered in a long time. If all of a
sudden I call up and ask for one tab of ecstasy, they
won't believe me. Somebody who comes back to the
stuff after such a long layoff, it's because they fell off the
wagon. Hard. We want to make the order sound realis
tic. You order a dime bag of schwag, he'll laugh in your
face and tell you it's not worth his time. And then he'll
never take my call again because he'll assume I'm
turning on him. Cops on stakeouts are cheap. You want
a real delivery, an ounce of decent weed will probably
run you a hundred fifty or so, though I've been out of the
game for a while so, you know, inflation and everything."
"Really? Inflation affects drug sales?"
"We live in the United States, don't we? You think
people will pay more than four bucks for a gallon of gas
but won't pony up a Ben Franklin to get high with their
friends?A gallon lasts until the next exit.A good high will
give you stories that'll last for years--if you can remember
it. I'd go with this--order a quarter ounce of mids. Decent
enough stuff, probably run seventy-five bucks. Enough so
it's worth the trip for them, but it won't put a big crimp in
your discretionary fund. That work, champ?"
"Whatever you say. You call and order. When Vinnie
buzzes up, just send a text message to my cell phone. I
won't respond, but that's the signal that it's the right
guy. Then send me one more when he leaves, just to be
sure." I took out my wallet, peeled off two hundred
dollars and handed it to Rose. "In case it's more than
you expect. Or you need to, like, tip him."
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139
"Tip the drug dealer," she said, laughing. "Right.
I'm sure he'll take it back to the Dairy Queen and divide
it up among his colleagues. What are you, some kind
of nitwit? Didn't you smoke in college?"
"Once or twice," I said, "but I don't think anyone
ever trusted me to handle the business transactions. I
just assumed you tip people in the service industry."
"All right," Rose said. "But after this, no more favors.
I told you everything I know and then some, and now
you have me risking my sobriety for you."
"It's not for me," I said. "It's for Stephen."
"Are you sure?" Rose asked, one eyebrow arched.
"'Cause I've been around a lot of users