figures, and he’s probably right, that whoever was on the other end of the line will know who shot those guys. Might even think Jay was there, with his old man. And he’s worried that maybe they’ll try to get to Jay … a payback thing.”
“Were the two guys dead? Did he check?”
“He says he didn’t but he put two in the middle of the first guy’s chest. The second guy, the one on the cell phone, he got him with a head shot. He figured they were both dead.”
Two in the middle of the chest. Head shot. “The guy was good under pressure.”
“Real good.”
“And Blevins wants you to…?”
“Find Jay. If these guys’ bosses, associates, partners, whatever, go looking for him …” Cobb didn’t finish the sentence.
“The kid could be hard to keep safe. If he’s using and needs to make a buy …” It was my turn to leave a sentence unfinished.
Cobb nodded. “I know that. So does Blevins. But he’s hired me to try.”
Another long silence.
I rubbed my hand over the stubble that was the result of not having shaved for a couple of days. Cobb may have been right. I likely did look like crap.
“You think Blevins’s story was for real?”
“I already checked. Made a couple of calls. Two shooting victims, no information on the condition of the victims, found at a house on Raleigh Avenue.”
“Okay, so it sounds like it’s the real deal.”
“When Blevins finished talking to me, he walked over and dropped a handgun into one of my filing cabinet drawers. Guess he didn’t think he’d need it anymore.”
“Let me guess — the two guys were shot with a handgun that matches the make and model of the one Blevins deposited in your filing cabinet.”
“Check.”
“What about Blevins?”
“He said he’d be turning himself in but needed twenty-four hours to take care of a few things.”
“I hope shooting some more people wasn’t one of the things he had to take care of.”
“I asked him that. He said it wasn’t.”
“And you believed him.”
“He’s not a nut, Adam. He’s a guy who lost it and shot two people who were hurting his son. Something that in his position I could have done. He’s aware of what he did and all he cares about is keeping the kid safe.”
I stared at the ceiling for a while trying to make sense of it. With limited success.
“I guess that brings us to me. When you came in here you mentioned wanting my help.”
He nodded. “My time on the force, and even the work I’ve done since, I haven’t spent much time on the drug side. I’ve had my share of dealing with crimes that were fuelled by drugs and even motivated by the need to obtain the resources to make a purchase, but that’s not the same as being up to my ass in the drug culture. So my expertise is limited.”
“You want me to provide information that might help you find Jay or assist you in the actual search?”
“Both would be good. I know you’ve written stories on the drug scene here. If I remember correctly, a couple of them focused on crack. I thought you might know some people who might know some people. Or at least where I might start looking.”
“As in who might be the bigs behind the house on Raleigh Avenue?”
Cobb shook his head, then waved a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s information I wouldn’t mind having. But I don’t imagine you know that.” His eyes narrowed. “No, my only real shot is to find the kid before they do. Which is why I mentioned urgency earlier.”
I looked around the room. “Okay, you finish your coffee, while I find my socks.”
“A clean pair not an option?”
“It would be if I’d washed clothes in the last couple of weeks.”
Cobb stood up. “You haven’t told me if you’re going to help me. If you’re not —”
“I can’t make important decisions in bare feet.” Trying to lighten the mood. I resumed my search and discovered the socks under an Oklahoma State Cowboys sweatshirt.
“Anyway, you’re right. If you read the stuff I’ve done on the crack industry in our city you know I never really got past the street sellers. Most of the sellers are also users and they protect the guys at the top, first of all because they’re the employers, sort of a job loyalty thing, and secondly, they don’t want anything bad to happen to their own supply.”
“So, like I said, the only way I can approach this is to find the kid before they do.”
I nodded. “And I’m guessing you may not have a lot of time.”
“Which, as you pointed out, brings me back to you. Any ideas as to where I might start with a kid like Jay? Or Max?”
“Well, there I might be able to help a little. I mean we might start with some of the areas that are hangouts for users. The bigger the user, the crappier the places they tend to hang out. Unless of course the kid comes from money. Those people tend not to be sleeping on the streets and under bridges.”
“I didn’t get a sense from Blevins that they’re wealthy people.”
“Right. Streets and bridges it is.”
“Sounds like bad movie stuff.”
“What I saw when I was researching my stories was a real bad movie.”
Cobb pulled my down-filled jacket off a door handle and handed it to me. “So you’re willing to help?”
I took the coat, pulled it on, checked pockets to make sure my gloves were there.
“Yeah, but don’t get the idea that I’m all about doing my civic duty or helping the less unfortunate. There might be a story here, maybe a compelling one. I’m not talking about the concerned-dad-shoots-drug-dealers story. Everybody will have that. I’m talking about the what-happens-after-that angle. If it turns out to be good, I want to be the one writing that story.”
Cobb looked at his watch. “Let’s go.”
Two
We took Cobb’s SUV, an older Jeep Cherokee with four wheel drive and the biggest engine Jeep makes. While we drove, Cobb filled in a few more missing pieces.
Blevins had given him an envelope filled mostly with cash — I didn’t ask how much — the address of the house on Raleigh, and a picture of his son. Blevins had said
