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He tried to grin, but black liquid dribbled from his mouth. I had to look away.
In a moment, Billy's gaze returned to the early morning bustle on the street. I wondered what he thought about ordinary people who had real purpose in their lives. I knew I was looking at night and day when I compared Billy to the people heading to work.
I tried to ask him more questions, but he chose to clam up. I was persistent, but he started getting agitated and talking louder and louder to the voices that only he could hear.
At that point, I thanked him for his help and quickly returned to Roasted Love.
# # #
I headed for Jacob, who was in the kitchen pulling bagels and cream cheese from the refrigerator.
"Jacob – you're right. He's not like John, who I think was just down on his luck. Billy is – well, crazy. He talks to people who aren't there. And he flipped off a group of customers as they walked up to our door."
That last one got him to look up at me. "Okay. That's it. I’m going to have to get the cops on this. I can't let somebody run off the customers and destroy our business."
"Yeah. I understand
." I knew Jacob was right. I stood by and waited while he dialed the precinct house.
While he waited for someone to answer, he called to me over his shoulder. "Laila – as bad as I sound, please don’t hand out any more food to him. Okay?"
I nodded. "Okay."
This was difficult. I didn't want to sweep homelessness under the rug and ignore it like so many tried to do, but at the same time – when it came to Billy’s threats and possible genuine mental illness, there was just no other answer. We all depended on income from Roasted Love, Jacob most of all.
Then I began to wonder why that scruffy dealer Ricky Thomas had sent me to find Licorice Billy. Crazy old Billy wasn't any help at all when it came to the mystery of John’s death, but there was a small nagging thought at the back of my brain.
Had Billy killed John over the sleeping spot in front of Roasted Love? I hoped not, but stranger things had happened, I was sure. I wished Daniel was on board with me. It would be sure help to talk this over with him and figure it out.
I looked out the window as the cop on the beat arrived. He pulled Billy up from the sidewalk and made him stand there. The exchange was not pleasant, but Licorice Billy finally shuffled off down the street and the cop got in his car and left.
I grabbed a broom from the kitchen and went out to sweep the whole front sidewalk. Working away with the broom, I kept my eyes on the homeless man until I saw him turn the corner. Satisfied, I went back inside and got back to work.
Yet, I still couldn't figure out why Ricky Thomas had suggested I meet up with Licorice Billy. They both knew something about John's death, but I couldn't imagine what it was.
# # #
I was off at mid-afternoon, and I got right in my car and drove straight down to Skid Row. I was just passing the grocery store with the bars on it when I saw Billy and Ricky standing right next to each other.
I swung into the parking lot and pulled into a space. The right front wheel of my car came to rest in a hole in the cracked and broken asphalt. I stuffed my small purse under the front seat and put my cell phone in my jeans pocket.
Both men looked in my direction as I approached. Licorice Billy looked as if he was ready to make a run for it. Ricky reached for his friend's dirty sleeve and spoke to him in a low tone, and then both of them stood waiting for me.
"Hey, Billy. I didn’t get to ask you all of my questions this morning," I said. I pretended not to remember how he'd gotten belligerent with me earlier today. "Can I ask you a couple more?"
I could see his disgust for me in his eyes – although maybe it wasn't just me and he simply didn't like people in general. I tried not to push him, but just waited quietly.
"Whaddya want to know?" he finally said.
"I want to know if you know who could have caused John Collin’s death. We both know he wasn’t into drugs."
Ricky and Licorice Billy looked at each other. Ricky spoke first. "I told you before. John Collins isn't dead." He looked at Billy. "Tell her."
Billy’s look was one of complete surprise. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said to me. "John Collins is alive. I saw him just a few minutes ago, right here where we're standing now."
Billy looked over his shoulder. We three were the only ones here. Ricky had a smirk on his face, now that Billy had backed him up.
Okay, I thought. Two – or in this case, three – can play this game.
