Holly had a prescription for Vicodin. The pain med that makes you feel no pain. Weird, she didn’t look like she was in pain, but I guess you can’t always tell. Holly paid cash. Sometimes you just know something’s not right, and my radar told me that Holly wasn’t right. Ping ping ping, that’s how it works. I picked up my all-the-meat-you-can-eat drug, and then I followed Holly. To the parking lot. To her car. Followed her all the way across town to another pharmacy.

That’s right. You guessed it. Another prescription. Vicodin. Cash.

Yep, sweet-faced all-American housewife Holly is an addict. Don’t be so shocked. There are Hollys everywhere. But who cares, you say, right? If she’s a pill popper, nobody gets hurt except herself. We’ve all got our vices.

Oh, but I left out the best part. Guess what Holly does for a living? She drives a school bus. You hand your kids over to her every day, and she’s an addict. She could fall asleep at the wheel. She could forget to stop at a railroad crossing. Maybe she already has.

How are you feeling now?

All right, cards on the table. I lied. I don’t know who Holly is. Or what she does. Maybe she’s a secretary. Or a waitress. Or a pilot. Or a cop. That’s the point, she’s the only one who knows.

But I’ve got your license plate, Holly. I can rat you out any time I want to. Get help, okay?

Clyde laughed. ‘I bet half the pill poppers in town started looking over their shoulders at Walgreen’s after this column came out.’

‘Did Jay ever tell you who Holly was?’

Clyde shook his head. ‘No, he’d never spill something like that.’

‘Did you and your brother have a close relationship?’ Stride asked.

The man wiped sweat from his brow and grabbed an open can of beer from a metal shelf.

‘Me and Jay? Not so much, really. I saw him every couple of months. He had better things to do than hang out with me.’

‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘Right after New Year’s. Dude almost killed me.’

Stride cocked his head. ‘How so?’

‘Jay took me ice-fishing in the harbor. Didn’t look safe to me, but Jay wanted to go. Winter started out pretty warm, remember? Next thing you know, ice started cracking, shanty started going down. We barely got out with our necks. He lost his truck and his fish house, but that was Jay. He liked risks, liked going all in. It was the same way when he was growing up. Smart as hell, way smarter than me, but all you cops knew his name because of the stupid shit he pulled. He near got thrown out of UMD half a dozen times, but they were scared he’d write about them in the college paper.’