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A few hundred dollars. Maybe a thousand. For all the shit you’ve put me through, for the years of abandonment without a cent
, without a phone call. Screw you, Conall.
I quickly brushed my hair back and applied some makeup to hide the bruise that was forming on my cheek.
I tucked the dollar bills into my purse as I left the house. Conall didn’t know it, but he was soon to make a generous and sizeable donation to the Wounded Warriors Project. Money that would go to heroes; veterans and their families. Not the scum that heConall dealt with.
I haven't needed anything from himConall since he left. And I’m not going to start taking his drug money now.
I walked down the street, head held high. Thinking of a way to get Conall locked up or killed.
I didn’t formulate anything feasible, but it made me feel better anyway.
THREE
Jack
I sat casually at my desk, left elbow resting on the corner of the wooden surface, leaning forward with my chin on my left palm. I was drumming the fingers of my right hand steadily on the desk. My eyes were half closed, and to most I probably looked tired or hungover.
But my mind was racing. It was 09:00am, the day after Lucas had brought in the sample of meth for me. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon brainstorming ideas, where the meth was coming from, who the key players could be.
I’d even built a little case wall next to my desk, which had brought laughter from some of my fellow Detectives. They had scoffed at the idea of the O’Rourkes resurfacing and had taken great pleasure of mocking me as I went about pinning scraps of paper to the board.
Yeah, the idea probably does seem stupid to you. Probably because you haven’t been approached with a bribe yet. You slimy asshole.
After getting bored of the old deadbeats, I had told them precisely where to shove their criticism and carried on with my theorizing.
This is what actual Detectives do. Look and learn. You won’t be the ones laughing if this theory actually turns out to be something. Nah, you’ll be wishing you were the ones to crack the case and save the citizens.
I had smiled at the thought of getting one over on the old detectives, most of whom had made my life really difficult when they realized I wouldn’t take a bribe or look the other way for them.
Eventually I’d have to get some actual evidence to take to the Lieutenant. If I went with what I had now, which was just a hunch, he would tell me to stop wasting his time.
However, if I actually pieced just a little of the puzzle together, I knew he would listen carefully. Might even let me open a case.
My case.
I still had a few contacts from my days of working undercover. A score or more of junkies who I’d dealt meth to in order to keep up appearances, and a couple of Police Informers who had been associates of the O’Rourkes, but had ratted on them for reduced sentences.
I knew some of them would be back in the business. Probably ready to snitch and run at the first sign of trouble.
Snakes. At least most gangsters have a code of honour, a system of respect. These guys are worse than gangsters, will turn sides as soon as they can get something out of it.
I hated them, but I needed them just as much as I hated them.
Finalizing my plan of action, I rose to my full height, a shade over 6’2”, rolling my shoulders. I felt my biceps struggle against the leather of my thigh length black leather trench coat as I downed the last of my morning coffee.
I ran my hand over my short, blonde hair as I headed for the exit.
One of the old detectives looked up at me, snarling.
“Where you off to, boy scout? Going to see if there’s any old ladies need helping across the road?” he asked, sarcastically. His colleague on the desk next to him snorted.
I coolly continue my strides forward, not giving him the satisfaction of a heated reaction.
A little while later I was cruising around the streets in my nondescript, large black sedan, eyes scanning the sidewalk for any signs of activity. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for.
It was only 9:45 am, and a group of young men were standing on a street corner, looking around nervously. There were five of them and they all looked twitchy as fuck and were either high or on a serious comedown. They were all skinny with slightly sunken eyes and scratched at their red skin intermittently.
