Tharpe turned and focused his full attention on me. He said, “Look, I’m a fellow vet. Did four years in the Marines. I’m telling you, you need to give up being everyone’s unpaid private investigator. The Newburgh police are looking for veterans right now. We got some kind of grant to hire them. It’s a decent job with a good retirement. No one will hold anything your brother has done against you. You’d like the feeling of camaraderie again.”

I was surprised by the offer, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider it for a minute. My main career as a paperboy wasn’t everything I’d hoped it would be. And with this new job, I’d still be able to live in Marlboro in my little house surrounded by all my family. But I knew this wasn’t the time to give an answer.

As we started to walk back outside, Tharpe said, “Sure, there are some headaches on the job. You have to put up with punks and shits, but you also get to knock heads once in a while and do some good. You should think about it.”

It was a charming offer, but I was never much for “knocking heads.” And my experience told me that “punks” often matured into decent human beings. Of course, that experience mainly came from being in the Navy, which had a tendency to straighten people out.

Right now I wasn’t interested in anything other than the person who killed my friend.

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I DIDN’T TELL Natty about my chat with Detective Tharpe as we drove in his new, leased Chevy Camaro to a nice area outside Newburgh close to Firthcliffe, in an upscale development. I wondered if any of Pete’s neighbors had known what he did for a living. My bet was that he was smart enough to do business away from his home, especially since he’d been keeping his job from his wife, Katie. Apparently, she didn’t even know what business Pete was involved in. Not all drug dealers show that kind of common sense.

As we pulled into the cul-de-sac where Pete Stahl had lived with Katie in a small, single-story house, Natty started acting weird, even weirder than usual. I had no idea what was going on inside that foggy brain of his, but I felt like he was holding something back from me. He clearly didn’t feel like talking just yet. I suspected it had something to do with his feelings for Pete’s widow.