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The three kids she spoke to all happened to mention the same person. A friend of Brian’s. A basketball player. An athlete. And a dope dealer. She knew the boy and wasn’t surprised by hearing his name.

His father was a well-known Manhattan dentist, and his mother served on every possible charity board. It seemed that they were always mentioned in the newspaper or on NY1. When Mary Catherine thought about it, she couldn’t remember ever seeing them at a school activity or involved with their son.

Now she started looking in earnest for Patrick Marshall.

Chapter 22

Mary Catherine tried to figure out the best place to talk to Patrick Marshall without raising any suspicions. She caught a lucky break while visiting the administration office. She saw that the high school juniors had a study hall scheduled for the next forty minutes.

She checked the library and saw that most of the students were inside, working quietly. But no Patrick Marshall. Then she thought about it. One thing a drug dealer needed to do was use his phone. And one thing that was strictly forbidden on campus was the use of cell phones. She mumbled to herself, “That little shit is on his phone somewhere.”

She recalled Seamus telling her that he was always shooing kids on cell phones out of the courtyard at the rear of the school, which connected to the church. It was supposed to be a quiet, peaceful area where the priests could meditate. Somehow she had a difficult time imagining Seamus meditating.

She walked to the grassy square. There she saw two saplings and a concrete bench between the two buildings as well as a ten-foot-high wrought-iron fence protecting it from the street. And there, leaning on the fence, was a tall, athletic, good-looking young man. She couldn’t explain it, but he made her angry. His family was wealthy. God had given him everything, and he still was doing something like this.

Like Brian. She whispered out loud, “Oh, my God.” She caught herself. Brian had it all, too. Maybe not as much money, but he had a supportive family. What caused this? Why were kids getting involved with this terrible scourge?

Patrick turned and saw her. He mumbled something into the phone, then jammed it into his pocket.

She said, “Hello, Patrick.”

He gave her a weak smile. “Hi. How are you, Mrs. Ben…”

She didn’t worry about correcting him. It happened all the time.

Patrick said, “How’s Brian doing?”

“Not so well. We’re waiting for his sentencing.”

He eased over to the concrete bench and plopped down. He just looked down at the ground and started to cry.

Mary Catherine sat on the bench next to him.

Finally Patrick got hold of himself and cleared his throat. He said, “I’m sorry. Brian didn’t deserve what happened.”

She put her arm around his shoulder and said in a soft voice, “It’s all right, Patrick. I know it’s not just Brian that’s got you down.”

He didn’t say anything.

She said, “What’s really wrong? You can tell me. It will be our little secret.”

Again, she just sat there during a long silence.

He sniffled. “Brian got caught up in something like a game at first. He didn’t mean for it to get out of control.”

“For what to get out of control?”

Patrick hesitated.

“It’s all right, dear.” She remembered what it was like for teenagers to talk to adults. It was better to just wait.

Finally Patrick said, “Brian wanted to look cool. He didn’t want to always be just a cop’s kid. He thought he could prove how tough he was. Then it just kept going.” Patrick took a moment.

Mary Catherine hoped he wouldn’t start crying again.

He said, “This guy who gives him meth to sell scares the shit out of him. He’s crazy.”

Mary Catherine said, “Who’s the guy?”

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