A few moments passed and then the young man exhaled a long breath, sat up straight, blinked, and looked around, his expression foggy.
“Great,” said the man sarcastically. “You brought him back. ’Til the next time.”
Decker looked at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m his uncle. And the bastard didn’t have the decency to wait till his sister was buried before pulling this shit. Talk about showing no damn respect.”
“His sister?” said Kemper. “How’d she die?”
“Damn heroin overdose,” said the uncle. “Didn’t get her the Narcan in time.” He pointed to the young man. “That asshole coulda saved her, but he was in the bathroom doing lines of coke.”
A moment later the young man leaned out the window and threw up.
They all jumped back to avoid the vomit.
The young man looked angrily at Decker until he saw the bottle in his hand.
“You almost bit the bullet for good, buddy,” said Decker.
“Thanks, man,” he said groggily, wiping his mouth.
Decker looked at Kemper and then back at the young man.
He tossed the bottle of Narcan to the woman, walked back to the SUV, and got in.
Kemper turned to the aunt and uncle. “An ambulance will be here shortly. He’ll need to go to the hospital.”
“Right,” said the uncle. “Whatever.”
As Kemper walked off, he slapped his nephew on the back of the head. “Dumbass!”
Kemper hurried after Decker and climbed into the truck.
“You okay?” she said once she’d settled in.
Decker didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I’m just wondering whether we’re ever going to dig ourselves out of this hole.”
“I’ve seen it all at the DEA. Every foul thing a human being can stoop to when they’re hooked on drugs. Even that back there didn’t surprise me. I’ve seen worse. Five-year-olds performing CPR on their parents. A grandmother knocking in her son’s head for the cash to feed her addiction. A mother selling her ten-year-old daughter for sex to get her heroin pops. But we’ll make it through this, Decker.”
He glanced at her. “You really believe that?”
“I have to. Otherwise, I couldn’t do my job.”
A minute of silence passed before Decker broke it.
“You mentioned insurance companies rating the value of a life,” he said.
“Yeah, that’s part of their business.”
“Cindi Riley told me that she’d lost a number of friends to overdoses here.”
“Not surprised. And there are thousands of places just like this one. Where people used to get up every day and go to work with a purpose. And now they don’t have a purpose. Or a job. Or any self-worth. That takes its toll, Decker. In a lot of ways. That’s why they’re calling the opioid epidemic the drugs of despair.”
“Riley also said that some of her friends had life insurance policies. And that some of the renovations in town are due to people having received large payouts from life insurance companies.” He pointed at the new luxury cars parked along the road. “And maybe those proceeds are also helping to pay for those.”
Kemper mulled this over for a few moments before shaking her head. “No insurance company will knowingly write a large life insurance policy on someone in such bad health they’re likely to die, or someone addicted to drugs, Decker, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Maybe they weren’t an addict when the policy was written,” he said.
“What are you driving at?”
“It would be interesting to know how many people in Baronville who’ve died from drug overdoses had large life insurance policies. Can you find that out?”
Kemper stared out at the line of cars parked on the road. “I can try.”
“Good.” Before she could respond, he said, “I’ve got to get back. I promised Jamison I’d help this afternoon. They’re having a reception at the Mitchells’.”
As he climbed out of the truck Kemper said, “I didn’t picture you as much of a domestic.”
“Well, these days, I’m even surprising myself.”
Chapter 48
THE RAIN WAS pouring down outside now. It beat on the Mitchells’ roof as the combined families and a few others gathered at the house after the funeral.
Decker had arrived in time to help Jamison and her sisters set things up. Food and drinks were laid out and chairs from the kitchen and other rooms distributed around. Decker had also passed on to Amber the lawyer’s card that Ted Ross had given him. She said she would call him later in the week.
Zoe was in a chair cuddling with both her blanket and her cat, Felix, while Amber sat with her in-laws quietly talking.
Alice Martin had come over with a boxed pie. She was now holding court in a corner of the room with Jamison and one of the school mothers. Ted Ross and the people with him from Maxus had said their goodbyes at the gravesite and skipped this event. Decker thought that wise, because Frank’s father’s jaw had tightened back at the cemetery when Ross had come by and offered his condolences to Amber.
The knock on the door caused Decker to flick a gaze at Jamison to let her know that he would answer it. She responded with a smile.
Decker opened the door and gazed dully at the pair standing there.
John Baron and Cindi Riley, both holding umbrellas, stared back at him.
“I take it you’re positively stunned at our presence here,” commented Baron.
Decker noted that he had on crisply pressed dress slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a faded corduroy sport coat with patches at the elbows.
Under her raincoat, Riley wore a loose-fitting black dress that settled right at her knee and matching pumps. Her hair was done up in a French braid. She held a package in her other hand.
“I am,” said Decker.
“We came by to pay our respects,” said Baron.
Riley handed Decker the package. “And to bring this. It’s a bottle of single malt whisky.”
“Okay,” said Decker. He just stood there holding it until Jamison appeared at his elbow.
“Hello,” she said to the pair.
Baron held out his hand. “We met before. John Baron. This is Cindi Riley.”
Jamison shook their hands.
Baron said, “As I told your colleague here, we came by to pay our respects.”
Decker said, “And they brought a bottle of single malt scotch.” He handed it to her.
Riley said, “I’m Irish. It’s what we bring to wakes. I hope it’s okay.”
“That was very thoughtful of you. Please come in out of the rain,” said Jamison.
She led them in and Decker closed the door behind the group.
All eyes in the room turned to the new arrivals.
No one seemed to recognize Baron other than Alice Martin. Decker saw her eyes widen slightly at the sight of the man, and then she returned to her conversation with one of the young mothers from Zoe’s school.
Baron and Riley spoke briefly to Amber, offering their condolences.
Then Jamison led the pair over to Zoe and introduced them.
His eyes twinkling, Baron got down on his knees in front of Zoe. “You strike me as a person who doesn’t believe in magic.”
Zoe had her thumb stuffed in her mouth and didn’t answer.
“Do I take that as a yes, that you don’t believe in magic?” said Baron.
Zoe nodded.
“All right. Now let me see. What did I do with that?”
He tapped his jacket pockets, looked under the chair, and then reached out to the blanket and lightly touched its edges. “No, it’s definitely not there.”
Zoe removed her thumb and said, “What’s not there?”
Baron, pretending not to have heard her, said, “Oh, of course, now I remember. Zoe, could you just reach in your cat’s right ear? You’ll find it in there, I think.”
Zoe looked uncertainly at Decker and then Jamison, who nodded encouragingly at her.
Zoe slowly put her fingers in Felix’s right ear and her eyes bulged as she withdrew a small silver coin. She said, “How did it get in Felix’s ear?”
Baron clapped his hands together and glanced at Jamison. “Well, I feel sure that Felix is a very special cat, right?”
Zoe nodded.
“Well, special cats can do magical things, like hiding coins in their ears.”
He took the coin and examined it. “Now, this is a very rare coin. It will bring whoever possesses it good luck. Okay?”