“Vincent. Look at me.” Vail tilted her head and gave him a one-sided grin when he brought his gaze back to hers. “It’s against the law to impede our investigation. See, your buddy’s been killing people again. And if you know where he is and you’re not telling us, you could be an accessory to those murders. Do you understand what that means?”
“I think so.”
“It would not be good.” She paused, realized she had better elaborate. “You could go to prison. For a long time. A guy like Roscoe can survive in a place like that. But you …” She shrugged. “Be better if you just cooperate so you don’t have to worry about that.”
Stuckey thought a moment, his gaze wandering across Vail’s face. “He wouldn’t tell me where he is. He’s moving around, that’s all I know. Not staying in one place. Wanted me to bring him money.”
“And? Did you?”
“Ain’t got any to give. As it is I’m behind two months in my rent. I have a hard time keeping jobs.”
“What about places he liked to go? Before he was arrested.”
“Anyplace they served beer.” Stuckey laughed, showing tobacco-yellow teeth.
“You’re not being very helpful, Vincent. I need specifics.”
The smile disappeared. “Coupla bars he liked in town. Don’t remember which ones.”
Vail nodded. “What about when you were kids? Did you like to go places, places you used to play, where you’d go to get away from things? From your parents?”
Stuckey started biting his bottom lip. He got up from the chair and turned, came face-to-face with Curtis.
“What’s wrong?” Vail asked. “Something bothering you about a place you used to go when you were kids? Teens? Somewhere you weren’t supposed to go?”
“No,” Stuckey stammered. “Nothing like that.” He started rubbing his left forearm.
We’re onto something here. She glanced at Curtis and he appeared to be thinking the same thing.
“Tell me about what happened when you were younger. I want to know all the details.”
“I—I’m not s’posed to talk about it.”
Vail pushed off the sofa and put her left hand on Stuckey’s shoulder. “C’mon, sit back down. I promise we won’t say anything to anyone about what happened. You have my word.”
Something’s not right with this guy. He’s not just lower IQ. There’s something else.
Stuckey sank back into his chair. Vail knelt in front of him. “Something happened with you and Roscoe?”
“And Scott and Booker. And Lance.”
Vail and Curtis shared a look. “Scott MacFarlane and Booker Gaines, right?” She got a nod from Stuckey so she pressed on. “Who’s Lance?”
“Lance is the one who started it but Rocky’s the one who took the blame. Well, Rocky did kill the kid.”
“Back up a minute,” Curtis said. “Who’s Rocky?”
“Roscoe. That was our name for him. Because he was so strong. You know, like a rock?”
“And Lance’s last name?” Vail asked.
“Can’t remember. We used to hang out all the time, but I never saw him again after that. Something with a K, kinda like that old film, Kodak. But not Kodak.”
“You said there was a kid involved? That Rocky killed?”
“That’s the part I’m not s’posed to talk about.”
“I understand,” Vail said. “And we won’t tell anyone. Your secret’s safe with us, okay?”
Stuckey looked down. “I guess.” He took a breath, then looked up and his eyes found the clock on the wall. “I gotta go. I have an appointment.”
“We’ll be done here very soon,” Vail said. “Tell us about this kid Rocky killed and we’ll be on our way.”
He licked his lips and canted his head toward his hands. “Name was Eddie. He was just a kid who hung out at the playground. Talked shit, smoked reefer. I don’t think he went to our school.”
“How old were you?” Curtis asked.
“Fourteen.”
“And what happened?”
“We’d been smoking. Rocky got us some angel dust and we was real wasted. Eddie came by and …” He shook his head, as if he had some water trapped in his ear. He slapped his forehead a few times. “And he had a gun. And Rocky took it from him and shot him. And me.”
Vail recoiled. “Why?”
Stuckey looked up at her. “I don’t fuckin’ know, we was high. Rocky had a temper, even back then. Maybe Eddie was talkin’ shit again, but whatever. It happened real fast. After the gunshots, I didn’t hear or see nothin’.”
“Where’d you get shot?” Curtis asked.
Stuckey pulled back a lock of hair and revealed a dime-shaped scar overlying his temple.
That might explain Stuckey. But … “And Eddie. He died?”
Stuckey nodded, his gaze again somewhere on the floor.
Vail ran a hand across her mouth. “What about the police?”
“Well, Scott told me him and Booker and Rocky left. The cops came and found me there, took me to the hospital. Next thing I know, when I woke up after they did surgery and I got out of the hospital, they found Rocky and arrested him.”
How come I don’t know about this? It’s not in his file. Unless—
“But Rocky didn’t do time,” Curtis said. “In prison. Did he?”
“Booker was the only witness who remembered what happened. And he said it was Eddie’s fault, Eddie came at him and pulled the gun on us and Rocky was trying to get it from him and it went off.”