A big man, an inch taller than me with more meat on his shoulders, emerged from the car, looked at me, and said, “Hey, dropout, what do you think you’re doing in the big city?”

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I STARED AT the Newburgh detective, who wore a heavy coat over a cheap shirt and tie, and remembered his name was Mike Tharpe. Last time I’d seen him, a few months ago, he’d also thought it was funny to call me “dropout.” I guess it was true, I had dropped out of Navy SEAL training during my final week. But it wasn’t exactly a decision on my part. Either way, I accepted my past. Now I needed some questions answered and I didn’t need to antagonize a cop, especially if he was trying to jostle me.

As the detective stepped toward me, one of the men on the porch made a pretty good pig grunt. It carried across the open space. The men on the porch all started to laugh.

Tharpe looked up at the man who had made the noise and said, “You must’ve heard that last night from your mom when I was visiting. Sometimes she likes to make a sound like an elephant, too, ya know?” That sent an uncomfortable silence through the group. The man who had made the sound was clearly furious. It made no impact on the veteran Newburgh detective.

Tharpe looked at me and said, “If you’re looking for your brother, he usually hangs out at a bar on South Robinson Street.”

“You mean the State of Mind Tavern? I know. I talked to him a little while ago.”

“What brings you here? I mean to this neighborhood.”

“My brother said a friend of ours was killed here.”

“You knew Peter Stahl?”

“He grew up in Marlboro.” For some reason I didn’t want this guy to know how much Pete meant to me. It was like he hadn’t earned the right to know my pain. I said, “My brother told me what happened and I was curious about his murder.”

“Murder! He died of natural causes.”

I stared at the detective and said, “I read that he was shot to death.”

“That is natural causes for a dope dealer.”

“Drug dealer.”

“What?”

“No one calls it dope anymore. They call themselves drug dealers.” I usually didn’t split hairs but did when it annoyed someone in a position of authority.

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

THARPE SIGHED, THEN took a few minutes to explain what had happened. He led me toward the house, pointing through the open door into the hallway.

“Near as I can figure, one of the local dopers”—he paused and looked at me—“sorry, drug dealers, thought Stahl was moving in on his territory and made a business decision.”