Warning, warning, warning. Woman approaching the bedroom. And it’s not for sex.
“Information.” I clear my throat and type in some key words. Like gang member, death, and the year two-thousand-fourteen.
“About what?” She’s at the door. I keep my eyes on the screen.
“Just a hunch I have.”
A few results pop up. I skip the ones having to do with rape and initiation.
“You seem to work off of hunches a lot.” She takes a few steps closer. I stretch my neck out. It’s fucking stiff as shit.
“Hunches make the world go ’round, Green.”
“Uh huh. And what’s this one about?”
I click on one that looks promising.
“This other case. It’s probably nothing, but I like to cross my Ts and dot my Is and shit like that.”
“Funny,” she muses. Closer now. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the─”
“This is so fucking weird.”
“What?” Gone is whatever smart-aleck comment she was about to lay on me. Instead, Green comes to stand behind me to see what I see. She can’t from the edge of the bed, so she crawls on up and leans over my shoulder.
As her arm grazes mine, the scent of her shampoo fills my lungs.
Focus, dumbass.
A couple blinks later, I’m back in the zone.
“This kid, last summer, Decker. He was found with two pounds of pot on him. He ran, they shot him, and he died.”
There was something about him pulling a knife on the authorities, and they didn’t have a choice but to shoot.
The kicker? No knife was found at the scene according to a random blogger who followed up on the story.
Nothing was ever reported about any of it after that.
“Convenient,” Green murmurs.
I leave the laptop and Green’s close proximity to go wear a hole in the carpet for a while. I’m willing to bet everything in Nick’s savings this kid didn’t have a single drug count on him when they caught him. I’d also wager that one Miss Emma Green uses lotion on a daily basis, based on the silky ass skin she’s got.
Jesus, Stiles. Reel it in.
“Green.” I clear my throat from the living room. “Can your guy look up a minor’s record?”
I hear the bed creak and know when her feet are back on the ground.
“Um, I would guess so. Yeah. Why?” She’s back up in my personal space, but at least, we’re in a neutral zone again.
“A hunch.”
“About?” She leans against the wall. Her head tilts. I avoid letting my eyes wander to the way her shirt hangs against the curve in her waist.
“I’m not exactly sure. I can’t quite put all the pieces together but my Spidey senses are tingling like a motherfucker.”
“That’s not the only thing tingling.”
“Come again?”
“Nothing.”
I’m imagining shit now. Awesome.
Chill the fuck out.
“You look stressed again,” she tells me as she pushes off the wall. “And I don’t think I’ve seen you get this excited about something since we met.” She heads toward me. I’m pretty sure a certain hand is about to make contact with me somewhere or another. I don’t know if I can take that shit, so I step a little farther away from her and stick to piecing together what I can about Donnie and these other shootings.
Murders.
“Okay, we know Donnie, Decker, and at least one other kid have all been associated with gangs at some point or another,” I start.
“And none of them have a track record for using or dealing drugs before they were killed,” she adds, closer now. “We assume, anyway.”
“Right. And they were all killed by cops, maybe even from the same precinct. I’ll need to check on that. But I definitely know Donnie was out of the gang business before he died.”
I make a mental note, and even as I am, I fucking know where this is leading.
Green and I lock eyes. Because sometimes saying shit out loud like that gives you the missing piece of information you were looking for.
Kinda like finding a new perspective on something.
Or a new opinion on someone.
“Do we know if the money for the drugs found on these kids was ever recovered?” Green asks. I fucking love the way her mind works.
“Shit.”
“Stiles…”
“Green, did you mean it when you said you wanted to help this kid?”
“Of course I did.”
“Because this is fucking huge.”
If cops are using kids to push drugs so they can make money off it, and the public finds out about that bullshit, the entirety of the police force could be questioned going forward.
Including Nick.
I’ll worry about that later.
“Do you have any idea the chaos this would send Redemption into? If not some of the surrounding areas as well?”
“Do I have an idea? Green, I think we just cracked open a can of worms the police force didn’t think they’d have to worry about for a long time coming.”
She looks up at me like I just saved the planet or some shit, and the way it makes me feel is… mean I can’t… why is she looking at me like that?
And when did she get this close again?