Second You Sin - Sherman, Scott by Scott Sherman

Author:Scott Sherman [Sherman, Scott]
Language: en-us
Format: mobi

21

I Got Plenty of Nothing Ten minutes later, Freddy and I were at The Scoop, a local ice cream shop that makes its own New York–inspired flavors. Since our dinner had been rudely interrupted, it was only logical we skip right to dessert. At least it seemed that way to us. Tomorrow, I’d pay for it on the treadmill.

The Scoop had a laid-back, downtown vibe that perfectly suited our mood. The lights were dim and the music was mellow jazz. We took a quiet banquette in the corner so we could talk.

Freddy enjoyed a Broadway Banana Split, with once scoop each of Chelsea Chocolate, Lickin’ Center, and All That Razz. I had a Subway Sundae with Verrazano Vanilla and Whip Me Cream.

“Maybe Rueben’s overdose wasn’t accidental,” Freddy said.

“Ansell told me he had enough heroin in him to kill

three people,” I answered.

“Exactly. But Rueben was an experienced user,

right? He would have known how much he could

take.”

“You think he killed himself on purpose?” “You knew him better than I did.” Freddy might not

have eaten his pasta earlier, but he attacked his ice

cream with a singleminded ferociousness not seen

sinceJaws.

I thought for a moment. Rueben had been through a lot. He was a pretty tough customer. Yeah, he’d come to depend on Ansell, but so much so that he’d commit suicide over a single spat? I could see him storming out of Ansell’s apartment, but only to

intentionally overdose half a block away?

“It’s a stretch,” I admitted.

“So, if he didn’t killhimself,whether accidently or

on purpose . . .”

“He was murdered?”

“Maybe Ansell was madder at Rueben than he led

you to believe,” said Freddy, through a mouthful of

cold heaven. “He could have killed Rueben.” “Possible,” I said. “Or maybe Rueben’s death is

related to the others.”

Freddy put down his spoon. Anytime he did that

during dessert, I knew that meant he was about to

say Something Important.

“That’s it”—he pointed his finger at me—“you’re

getting out of the businessnow.”

“Rueben wasn’t killed on the job, Freddy.” “No, but how many dead boys have to pile up

before you figure out that you’re not exactly in the

safest of professions?”

“People die all the time, Freddy. And we don’t

even know that Rueben’s death is related to the

others. Or that any of them are related at all.” Freddy’s jaw moved back and forth, but he didn’t

say anything. I could see he was furious.

“Why the sudden freak out, anyway?” I asked. “You

already knew about Brooklyn Roy and Sammy White

Tee. Not to mention Randy. What makes Rueben’s

death such a big deal for you?”

“Because Iknewhim, you idiot. I was just talking to him two days ago. This is all getting too close to

home, Kevin. If anything happened to you . . .” “Nothing’s going to—”

“I couldn’t take it, OK? If anything happened to you,

I . . .” Freddy’s voice trailed off and he shook his

head. “You’re the most important person in my life,

you stupid asshole.” Freddy picked up his spoon

and jabbed it angrily into his ice cream. But he didn’t

eat.

I felt myself tearing up. Freddy wasn’t exactly the

type to talk about his feelings.

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