Stone pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. Willie Coombs had longish brown hair and a good-looking face though tiny lines were already massing around his eyes and lips. He looked like Danny Riker, only more worn. “All right, what did you have and what did you take?”

“Hey, you some kind of undercover cop?”

“Well, if I were it’d be a pretty clear case of entrapment.”

Willie let out a long sigh. “I’m too tired to give a shit. What I usually do is get me some fentanyl patches, shuck ’em in two, squeeze out the juice, cook it up and inject it in my feet. Gives you a nice pop, like heroin.”

“Fentanyl? China white, right?” Stone said.

“You sound like you know your drugs.”

“You said that’s what you usually do?”

“Prescription ran out. So I just got me some run-of-the-mill street crack. Never had no trouble like this.”

“Bob told me it was crack.”

Willie looked surprised. “Well, if he told you, why the hell ask me?”

“I always like to confirm things with a corroborating source.”

“You sure you ain’t a cop?”

“Not even close. But crack is a stimulant. Your pupils would have been seven or eight millimeters, not pinpoints.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“How can you take crack and then go to work in the mines?”

“Had a couple days off. Sick leave,” Willie added hastily.

“You sure you didn’t take any oxycodone that night?”

“I wouldn’t have taken any even if I had it.”

“Why not?”

“Doc Warner put me on it when I busted up my arm in the mines couple years ago. Got some kind of reaction to it so I don’t use the damn stuff.”

“Did you take anything else? Anything you can remember? Eating or drinking?”

“Had a couple beers. Picked up some takeout at Rita’s.”

Stone perked up. “What sort of takeout?”

“Burger and fries and a platter of grilled nachos.”

“So you ate, drank and then did the crack?”

“Yep. Started acting jumpy and shit and rambling on, but I was by myself, so that was okay. Before I was going to bed I took some Tylenol. I always take Tylenol anyway, every night. Just turned twenty-three, but I feel like I’m sixty some days.”

“Tylenol?”

“Then I remember Gramps showing up. Then things really started getting weird.”

“Who knew you took Tylenol every night?”

“Ain’t like I kept it a secret. Lot of folks take pills up here.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that,” Stone said dryly. “So anybody really could’ve known?”

“What the hell are you getting at, mister?”

“If somebody replaced your Tylenol with oxycodone pills, that could explain how it got in your system. How many did you take?”

“A couple, least I think.”

“Were there any left in the bottle?”

“A few.”

“Do you remember if they looked like Tylenol pills?”