• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Maybe.”

“And now you all are letting him go because you have to. Of course. You must have reached some kind of legal limit on how long you can keep a suspect, even a murder suspect, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about Barry? What’s he got to do with this crap?”

“All I know about Mayhew is that he was looking at some serious time on a smuggling charge. Narcotics has been running him for a while now.”

“You mean he’s a snitch.”

“That’s right.”

“Who’s he snitching on? Or for?”

“Not me.”

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have a thing to do with it. Your hands are clean. Wow, man, you are something. How the fuck do you live with yourself?”

“Knock it off, Cassandra. I’ve had enough of you talking to me like that. I do my job and I also try to pay my debts to people. Like Woody. You and your freaky friends hate the police. Well, ain’t that too bad. But you know what? You can’t make me ashamed of what I do. You get that? I was trying to keep your ass safe, that’s all. And this is how you thank me for it.”

I hooted at him.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“Oh, Klaus. Be sure and let me know the next time you keep me safe, okay? I’ll hire a bodyguard. My ass would be dead if I had to depend on you.”

“What the hell have you people accomplished that you think so much of yourselves? Oh, yeah. You’re gonna stop the war. How’s that one coming?”

“Fuck you.” I shot out of the chair and nearly knocked it over.

“I should take a belt to you, Cassandra.”

“Did you hear what I said, Jack? I said, ‘Fuck you.’ ”

7

“Did you know?”

“Woody’s not hard of hearing,” Ivy said. “I suggest you lower your voice.”

I ratcheted it down to a slightly quieter scream. “Just tell me the truth, Woody. Did you know they already had Dan?”

“No, girl. I didn’t know they had him. Now, you call me a liar again and see how fast you regret it.”

“I didn’t call you a liar.” Not technically, anyway. I just said I didn’t believe him.

My aunt took hold of my elbow. “Cassandra, you are dangerously worked up. Sit down for a minute and think. You’ve just been told your friend is not only safe, they just let him go. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I cooled off a little, but still refused to sit. “Of course it’s what I want. But it doesn’t solve anything, Ivy. It doesn’t answer any questions. The police are dragging their feet on this investigation; they’re up to some kind of nonsense. It only means we’re back where we started.”

“No, you’re not,” Woody said. “You talked to Wilton’s people, didn’t you? You just flew in here and told us everything his mother said. That’s a lot more information than you had this morning.”

I had to admit he was right. And I couldn’t stand the look of triumph on his face.

“I know how happy it makes you to think Wilt was some kind of bad guy, Woody.”

“I’m not happy, child,” he said. “I’m a long way from happy. Now, what about the boy Alvin? The Mobleys know who he is?”

“No.”

“Then you still got a line to follow. Check him out. You don’t know who he is, your roommates don’t know who he is, the Mobleys don’t know who he is. What does that tell you?”

“Wilt didn’t want us to know him. He had a reason to keep Alvin away from the rest of his friends.”

“It seems obvious,” Ivy said. “He must be one of the people who were using the Mobleys’ property.”

“Find him, maybe you’ll find out what was happening up there,” added Woody. “Or it might work the other way ‘round.”

“Both those things sound right,” I said. “But I have no idea how to do either one of them.”

“You’ll think of a way,” he said. “Just don’t go and do anything foolish. Let Jack help you if he can.”

“Woody, don’t get her started on Jack again,” Ivy said. “I just pray the police do their job and do it fast. I want all this to end before Cass gets her neck wrung somewhere.”

Yes, that would be nice. Then I could come back home. That’s what Ivy meant.

I didn’t stay much longer. But before I left I went in and took a fleeting look at my old room, where I’d be living again, soon enough. It meant that living on my own had been a failure. It was going to be like walking backward.