“My mother and sister know I’m still around, but they said they’d keep quiet until Dad’s recovered. He doesn’t need the shock right now, and my brothers can’t keep secrets for shit.”
Walter rose and rearranged the flowers on the table, placing his in front of Nestor’s. Nothing happened by accident with Walter. “All the same, I’d like to interview your family members, with your permission. Maybe they’ll recall something helpful. We won’t reveal anything you object to.”
“I appreciate it, but won’t the powers that be have something to say about you nosing about for me?” While Lucky needed answers, the bureau didn’t have a dog in this fight.
“The delivery of a large amount of heroin to a college campus is a legitimate case, worth investigating, no matter how long ago the crime took place.” Walter removed his bifocals, rubbed the lenses on his shirt, held them up to the light, and plopped them back on his nose. “There. That’s better.”
“But statute of limitations and all.” No one understood statutes like someone bound and determined to put time and distance between themselves and their past misdeeds.
“Someone dealing in heroin of those quantities wouldn’t give up easy money. Perhaps they’re still around and active.”
The boss had spoken. Pity anyone who argued. If a way existed to make Daytona’s supplier pay, they’d better watch out. Even the most powerful drug lords feared Walter Smith. “Can you check out the nurse for me? Something about him sets my alarms off. Andy something-or-other.” Why couldn’t Lucky remember the name?
“Lucky, I trust your instincts. If you have doubts about him, I’ll have Loretta perform a background check.”
“You could’ve brought my laptop or my work phone, and I’d be able to do the checking myself.” Lucky’s cheap personal phone couldn’t surf the internet. But if he couldn’t do the check himself, Loretta Johnson would be his next choice, after Bo.
Walter sighed. “How much rest would you get if you spent your days researching the entire hospital staff and looking up every prescription for possible counterfeits?”
Good point. “Okay, but I need you to get right on this. This nurse keeps slinking around. Last night I woke up and caught him standing over the bed watching me sleep.”
“Are you sure it’s not your medication talking?” But Walter’s suddenly stiff backbone meant he’d gone into alert mode.
“I’m sure. He’s passed by this room several times since you got here.”
Right on cue, Nurse Andy paused outside the door, peered in, and took off when Lucky glared.
“See what I mean?”
Walter parked a hand on Lucky’s shoulder. “I’ll have him checked out. You have my word.”
***
Walter reappeared later in the day. “I’m afraid your family didn’t offer any additional information.” He slurped from a coffee cup while handing Lucky another. “The oldest of your younger brothers…”
“Bristol.”
“Ah, yes. Bristol. Excuse my saying so, but he’s a bit—”
“Of an asshole,” Lucky finished for his boss.
Walter smiled. “I might have used other words, but sometimes the simple terms are the best. Yes, I’m afraid your brother is an asshole.” Asshole? The word sounded so strange coming from Walter’s mouth. Of course, his vocabulary tended to head south around Lucky.
“The family used to say he got switched at birth. Ever since I remember, he’s been acting like he’s better than the rest of us, ashamed of being a tobacco farmer’s son.” Being a dumb redneck saved Lucky’s life on occasion. And being underestimated gave him a big advantage over folks who imagined him too dumb to be a threat.
Serving twenty years in federal prison gave the ones who’d underestimated him plenty of time to see the error of their ways.
“Chances are, whoever it turns out to be is long dead or serving time.” Lucky could hope.
“At any rate, it’s still a crime to be solved.” When Walter got an idea in his head, Hell and half of Georgia couldn’t change the man’s mind.
“But it’s not a pharmaceutical crime.” While the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau’s Department of Diversion Prevention and Control investigated out of their area when necessary, they normally didn’t handle street drugs—the DEA got those cases. Lucky them.
“No, it’s not. But it is a crime.” Walter might appear to be casually interested, but he took care of his own. And if he considered Lucky a son, Daytona came with the package.
May God have mercy on anyone who messed with Walter’s family, for Walter wouldn’t. Because Lucky had never heard of his boss killing someone and disposing of the body didn’t mean he hadn’t. Just that Walter hadn’t gotten caught. Wouldn’t get caught.
Lucky peered around his boss toward the open door. No Nurse Andy. Yet. “What did you find out about the nurse?”
