Quinn slapped Boom on the back, reminding him he needed to hear the big story of Jason Colson ’76 once again, and headed outside with Raven. They stood by the back door, the rain blowing sideways across the sloped backyard and up to the old treehouse where Quinn used to play G.I. Joe and Caddy used to sell mud pies. Then it had become Caddy’s son Jason’s Indian fort and now Brandon’s space station, and it wouldn’t be long before Halley would take over that little piece of real estate. Jason Colson had built it on one of his rare stretches home from his work in Hollywood.

“Is that really true?” Raven said. “What your mother was saying about Elvis?”

“Some of it.”

“And the rest?”

“Like my daddy,” Quinn said. “A walking contradiction. Partly truth, partly fiction.”

“And you?” she asked.

“What you see is what you get.”

Raven smiled, cold wind blowing across the metal furniture and rain dripping down the awning. She reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic baggie filled with a jagged little piece of metal. “Here you go,” she said. “Nurse who worked on the man said he was real short.”

“How short?”

“Below five feet.”

“Damn,” Quinn said. “That is short. And how old?”

“Fifties,” she said. “Maybe older. White-headed with a white mustache. He was intoxicated, possibly on some painkillers. She said the man kept on begging her to write him a scrip for Oxy. But she couldn’t unless he provided some ID. Said another man had brought him in, just as short, and maybe twenty years younger. She figured they were kin.”

“No names?”

Raven shook her head and handed him a printout from the clinic. Quinn read through it quick by the light spilling from the kitchen window. He nodded, folding the paper and placing it in the breast pocket of his uniform. This was it. This was their man.

“Heard Ladarius got caught.”

Quinn nodded.

“I know he’s hurt,” she said. “But could’ve been a lot worse. Think you might help that boy out when he gets home?”

“He’s facing a bunch of charges.”

“Sounds like someone offered you a hand,” she said. “Way back when. You don’t have to say anything, Quinn. Just keep an open mind. Kid’s got to grow up sometime.”

*   *   *

TJ took the last five bucks to grab a burger while Chastity promised to stay put and watch John Wesley. TJ hadn’t been gone all of fifteen minutes to use the bathroom and grab the burger when she returned to find Chastity gone.

“Where’d she go?” TJ said.

It was late, full dark except for under the glow of the tall lights over the big semi parking lot. The wind had quieted down a bit, but every few minutes, a big nasty gust of cold would rattle through the trucks.