Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
“I’d like one of those new big television sets, the ones that look like picture frames.”
Fuck, what do I say?
“That won’t be a problem,” I say, but I think I’m lying.
“They spend a lot of time goin’ in and out of my bathroom, even when there are two other bathrooms in this house.”
“You see them bringing anything in or carrying anything out?”
“Don’t pay attention.”
“I won’t be long,” I tell her, then walk toward the bathroom.
She doesn’t say anything.
I step in and turn on the light. It’s relatively clean. Old fixtures. Three nicely framed watercolor landscapes on the wall in front of the toilet, a large wooden cross on the wall behind it, and a pink shag bathroom carpet in the middle of the floor.
I look under the sink and see a large wooden jewelry box to one side of the drainpipe, well away from everything else under the sink—old cleaning supplies, couple other newer boxes that contain cutting agents, a small scale, and a hair dryer. I pull the jewelry box out to open it.
“Oh,” I say under my breath. “Yes.”
What I see has gotta be at least half a kilo of what I’m sure will test positive for cocaine base. It’s tightly wrapped. And then beside it are three large rocks and several little ones that probably amount to over a hundred grams of crack.
I grab a tester from my pack. I made sure to stock up on quite a few testers before I left the department. I cut a tiny slice in the wrapper with my knife, pull out just enough on the tip to drop into the plastic testing vial. I close the vial, squeeze it so that another smaller glass vial on the inside cracks, releasing another liquid agent.
Fucking beautiful blue.
I drop the vial back in my pack, then use the knife to dip into a snort for myself.
Fucking shee-it!
Incredible, like it hasn’t been stepped on once. I’m sure these boys will cut the hell out of it, though. Damn fine. In fact so damn fine I don’t know what to say.
I tear off a little piece of duct tape, which I also carry in my pack, and seal the slit back up. I carefully stuff the half brick into my pack, but not the crack.
I turn the light off as I exit. The old lady looks like she’s dead. Probably still awake. I tread lightly and close the door to her room after I step out.
I carry the large amount of crack into the room with a bathroom and slide it under the mattress. I’m assuming Older sleeps there. That amount of crack and the guns in both rooms should be more than enough to fuck them up when I’m done.