“For sure. There’s an entire show about a guy in his forties becoming one,” he says.
“Exactly. Drew is a bad drug dealer,” I conclude.
Sam laughs. “Did you want him to be suspicious?”
“No?”
“Oh my god, you wanted it to be more dramatic, didn’t you. You’re angry you didn’t get to use all the Gen-Z lingo you’d learned.” He laughs louder.
“It washard, okay?”
I loseSam for about a minute until he gets his breath back and isn’t wheezing anymore. “Oh my god, you’re adorable,” he says, like a person who wants todie.
“I’m not adorable,” I growl.
“The most adorable. Cute even,” he coos. “You ask for drugs outside of a club, and the dealer doesn’t even suspect it’s a trap.”
“That’s because I’m good at my character work,” I insist.
“Adorable character work,” he says.
“I’m hanging up,” I warn.
“Noooo. Tell me about Drew Blue. What kind of parents give their kids a name that rhymes? No wonder he turned out horrible,” he adds.
I mean, Drew Blue? What were they thinking? “You’ve cracked the code to why people choose a life of crime. Horrible names.” I snort, then I brief him on my visit with Blue before he starts quoting statistics about bullying and its interconnection with the rise in crime or whatever study he’ll inevitably remember if we continue this line of conversation.
“I think this is going to be a really easy one. He’s too confident. He wasn’t wary of me one bit. And he was high as fuck,” I say.
“Great. Still, let’s not take him for granted. Maybe it was a one-off getting-high-at-work thing,” he suggests.
“If you say so. And we’re sure it was him?”
“Yes, couldn’t have been anyone else. He had an argument with Ashton at the club a week before his death. I hacked into the club’s security system and checked the footage. I also checked Drew’s GPS history and he was near the forest clearing for an hour two days before they found the body,” he says.
“That’s good,” I say before Sam decides to tell me how he hacked Drew’s GPS data. I park my car in my driveway. “Anyway, I’m home. I need to go do some coke.”
Sam laughs. “You wish you were that cool,” he says and hangs up.
I’m not, no. Not that doing drugs is cool because, as wehave already established, I’m not a peer-preasurable teenager. But I do own a good amount of cocaine, which has a date with my toilet while I take a long shower to wash away the smell of smoke, the sensation of loud music, and the attention of an incompetent drug dealer.
Drew is going down and soon. His blank, lifeless expression is the only one I’ll want in my memory.
***
“Maisie has been demanding too many walks lately. Can you find out if she’s holding a grudge or something?” Chad asks.
I sigh internally and turn to face Chad. My professional-Elliot smile is automatically full on display. I had to train myself to refine this one so it looked friendly, helpful, and less evil and murderous than it wanted to be most of the time. Might have been the most difficult thing I’ve done in my entire life.
The guy wearing a green hoodie and a backward baseball cap sitting gingerly on a chair in front of me isn’t really named Chad.Probably. But that’s what he is in my mind. I hadn’t bothered to learn his name yet, this being his only third visit with sweet Maisie.
“Why do you think she’s holding a grudge?” I ask sincerely.
“Because she always interrupts me when I’m clutching in Call of Duty. I'd understand if it was once or twice, but dude, it’s like she has an internal alarm that goes off, and she’d hop on me, demanding attention. That can’t be a coincidence,” he says, giving Masie a side eye.
I nod and turn to grin at the tiny offender on my examination table. I pat her head proudly. “Maybe she just likes having your attention?” I offer. Or maybe she knows she’s got you wrapped around her little finger and is taking full advantage of it. Could be either, honestly.
“Maybe… but sometimes I feel like she knows when will be the absolute worst time to leave the house, and that’s when she pounces.” His voice sounds a little spooked.
