Answer Death by Richard Prosch

Author:Richard Prosch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lohman Hills Press

Ten

Barry Gill got his picture in the newspaper on Tuesday morning, under a headline reading: Body of St. Louis Man Found, and I read the short column of rock-solid journalism that told me absolutely nothing I didn’t already know.

The car had been searched, foul play was suspected.

Then the reporter used the ubiquitous phrase that’s so worn out and flat it’s practically meaningless.

A drug deal gone bad.

I used the phrase once in my early days as an investigator and the Patrol Information Officer ripped me a new one.

“Tell people that and it’s like admitting you haven’t got a damn clue.”

Which—in this case especially—was most likely true.

And knowing the way the county would handle something like this, probably meant case closed.

I wondered if they had found my record in the Pinto.

I was still on a Herb Alpert kick, working my way through the catalog with a new album each morning. Today’s entry, What Now My Love, got to the end of side one at the same time I finished my second cup of coffee.

A third cup waited for me in the back, along with a cardboard box full of 80s pop records that a customer had brought in the day before. I needed to sort through them, pull the wheat from the chaff, see if they were worth anything.

I walked through the store, intent on finding a diamond in the rough.

Or downing enough caffeine to hallucinate such a thing.

Whichever came first.

The doorbell jingled and I called back over my shoulder, “Welcome to Spalding’s Groove.”

No reply.

I reached through the door between the back room and the store, set my cup beside the sink and returned to the front.

The customer was short, head down, wearing a thick brick colored hoodie, black shorts and open-laced tennis shoes that looked a size too large.

His hands were out of sight, stuffed in pockets.

“Morning,” I said. “How can I help you?”

“Me, helping you, man.”

The kid from the night before. The one whose ribs I caved in.

Rounding the far end of the counter opposite him, I said, “Yeah, how so?”

I felt better standing behind the counter, but if my visitor decided to start tossing lead around, there wasn’t much I could do.

With nothing to lose I took the moral high ground.

“I mean, you fellas sure didn’t seem too awful helpful last night.”

He held up an open hand, pushed the air away between us. “You ain’t got no idea.”

He looked straight at me from under the hood, surprising me with dark, brown eyes that held more than a little innocence and a healthy dose of pure fear.

“What’s your name?”

“Mateo.”

“How’s your ribs this morning, Mateo?”

“Sore’s a mofo.”

“Good for me.”

“Shit, I’m here to give you advice and you gotta bust my balls.” He stepped back and forth, showing off his swag, pretending he would leave.

But I knew he wouldn’t go. He had something on his mind.

Keeping my voice light-hearted, I gave him my best take-no-shit attitude.

“Tell me now, Mateo. What advice can you give me?”

“Give you the word about that crazy bitch, Megan.

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