“He drove me to your house, on Twelfth, and pointed it out to me. He said he wanted me to hit it. He’s pointed out places before where he knew there might be some good stuff, so that’s what I figured. If I knew you were a cop, I never would have done it. I’m not crazy.”

“What did he say about my house, specifically?”

“He said there might be a gun in there and to clean out the house, to take everything I could, even personal items.”

“Personal items?”

“I didn’t understand that, either, but I figured he meant jewelry, stuff like that. Your music.”

“Why was the kid there, though?”

“You gotta believe me. My uncle and I had nothing to do with that.”

“Tell me.”

“He was buying powder from Ray, who was skimming from the young ones on Riggs Street.”

“Why didn’t you mention this when I asked if you knew Wrayburn?”

“I wasn’t hiding anything. I just didn’t think to. Like I said, Jasper controlled all that. He caught the college kid selling in his club, told him he had to work it off, and that meant helping me with a bigger haul. So he sent him with us.”

“So Ray was skimming, and what he took he was selling to the kid who got killed in my kitchen?”

“Yes.”

Shit. Did Ray kill Jeffrey?

I don’t want to tell him Wrayburn is dead. That’ll just scare him senseless.

“Was Ray with you at the burglary?”

“No.”

“How’d you learn this about Ray skimming? I know Jasper wouldn’t tell you.”

“The boy who got shot in your house. He told me. He talked too much. Think he even enjoyed being a part of it all, like it was a game.”

“When did he tell you?”

“When we were loading everything into my uncle’s cab, on the way there.”

“From my house?”

“Yes.”

Fuck.

“How’d he get shot?”

“I don’t know how I got caught up in all this—”

“You’re not the victim here, Biddy. Now tell me how he got shot.”

He bows his head. Streams of tears pour out of his eyes. He sniffles, shoulders heaving with every short sob. I can’t let him get lost in those feelings. He’ll shut down.

“Talk to me, Biddy.”