Rain Shadow(7)

His real name was Francis Higgins, a name completely incongruent with the character. On the streets he went by the name Pulse, mostly because he constantly twitched like a nervous Chihuahua. He was one of those thin, watery, pathetic guys who looked as if he could be washed away with one good rain storm. His eyes were too big for his gaunt face, and they darted back and forth in the small interrogation room as if man-eating zombies might peel out of the cement walls at any moment. The metal cuffs clinkered against the table as his hands shook uncontrollably. From the terrified, exhausted expression on his face, it seemed he’d been on the run for awhile.

Carson and I sat in the chairs across from him. Dex leaned against the wall in a manner that was just threatening enough to keep the little creep nervous. Although he hardly needed help with that. He looked as if he might crap his pants with one sudden move from any of us.



Carson leaned forward, and Pulse’s eyes popped wider. “Francis, we’re—”

“Ple— please don’t call me Francis,” he stuttered. “Only my dear mother, God rest her soul, called me Francis. Call me Pulse.”

Carson looked irritated. “Higgins,” he said firmly, assuring him that his nickname stayed in the streets. “We’re prepared to offer you the protection you need, and from rumblings in the neighborhood, you need it now or you’ll be dead soon.”

Higgins flinched at his words.

“You’re going to have to give us some information on who’s handing out the tainted crack. It’s been packed with levamisole and some other shit too. The lab is analyzing the stuff now. That’s why your customers are getting sick . . . and dying.”

Higgins dropped his face. Giving up sources was a quick way to an ugly execution on the street, but it seemed he was screwed regardless.

I leaned back and stared coldly at the guy. “Looks like either way you end up in a box then. We already know you’ve been dealing for Griffin. His club, Bent for Hell, is known for cutting their supplies with all kinds of shit, everything under the sun, because for them it’s all about the money. And if a few junkies,” I motioned toward him, “or dealers, die because of it, they could care less because there are always more to take your places.” I leaned forward and his eyes bugged out as if I was going to reach across and wrap my hand around his throat. “You’re replaceable. As long as it doesn’t affect their profit, you can end up face down in the gutter and they won’t blink an eye. Without us, you’re dead in a week.”

Dex pushed his giant frame off the wall and walked up next to the guy. Higgins was too scared to look up at him. “I don’t know, Detective Carson, this worm doesn’t look reliable. I say we just dump him back out on the sidewalk—”

“No!” Higgins blurted. “I’ve got everything you need to know. Just don’t put me out there.” He looked pleadingly at Carson, and I actually felt sort of sorry for the little weasel. He was not more than twenty-five, but he looked as if he’d lived on the streets for a hundred years. His mom had been a whore and a junkie. The guy had never had a chance at a real life. “Please don’t send me back out there. I know when the next shipment comes in for Griffin. He’s getting stuff that comes from one of those narco-submarines, from Columbia or some place like that. I know when the trucks are moving.”

Carson pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “All right, Higgins, let’s have all of it.”





Chapter 3

Angel

Present



I glanced out the window. Luke stared down at the ground as he walked purposefully toward my cabin. His mood didn’t look great but then he’d just spent time with my grandfather. Grandpa tended to sour everyone’s mood, especially lately.

He lifted his face. There were times when he didn’t know I was watching him and I’d catch a profound sadness in his expression. This was one of those times. I quickly devised a plan to snap him out of his funk.

He crossed the swath of hard-packed dirt that bordered the cabins. I yanked off my t-shirt and bra. My shorts and panties dropped to the floor as his foot hit the first step. He knocked. I stayed hidden behind the door as I opened it. Some of his anguish disappeared as I peered around the edge.

He stepped into the room. His pale gray eyes rounded as he looked at me. I shoved the door shut and held my arms up in the air.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Reno.” I jumped into his arms, and his hands went beneath my naked bottom as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “What took you so damn long?” I asked between kisses on his face and neck.