DRIVING THE STREETS of Newburgh, I wasn’t really sure why I had rushed away from my breakfast with the beautiful girl who wanted to spend the afternoon with me. Snow did little to hide the deterioration of the city. All it did was keep more people inside and maybe a few cars off the road.

I spent a few minutes watching kids play a game of football in an open field. It was four on four and the two-hand touches were a little on the rough side. They were doing what kids did: having fun.

It made me think of Pete and the things we did and dreamed about as kids. He used to say he was going to be a sports trainer. Maybe work for the Buffalo Bills. We all had dreams. At least Pete realized he wasn’t talented enough to play football professionally.

I never knew my limitations. I wanted to be a Navy SEAL. I thought I had all the bases covered. It turned out I’d missed one in order to get there.

I talked to a couple of people on the streets, using my cash sparingly to buy information. When you’re a paperboy and a low-paid private investigator, there’s no other way to use your cash but sparingly.

Each person led me to someone else who gave me a little more information. I wasn’t being particularly discreet, but I was starting to get a clear picture of the drug trade in Newburgh.

Finally, later in the afternoon, I pulled up to a bar named the Budstop. This was where Alton Beatty ran his business, which apparently wasn’t much of a secret in Newburgh.

I took a second to survey the building and parking lot. It didn’t look that much different than the bar where my brother worked. I did notice the rented Cadillac in the parking lot and three pickup trucks parked directly in front of the building on the street. I wondered if that had something to do with Alton selling more meth than pot and cocaine.

I waited until all three trucks pulled away from the bar. All three of the drivers, who came out a few minutes after one another, looked like sickly rednecks. They were thin with sallow complexions. I don’t know much about methamphetamine, but these guys looked like billboards designed to scare kids away from it.

I parked at the far end of the lot and came into the pub from the side door. I’ve never been much of a bar guy, and this place looked just like the State of Mind Tavern: dark and musty, and no place to be on a crisp winter day.