Fostering Death by KM Rockwood Page B

said. “And it might be worth it. But first they’d have to catch me.”
    Aaron coughed, and his eyes filled with tears. “Please, Jesse.”
    I eased up a bit. “What do you know?”
    “Nothing, really.”
    I increased the pressure again.
    “Okay. Just something I heard.” He coughed again.
    “What did you hear?”
    “This guy I get stuff from sometimes. He had a lot of money. Said he got it from his mother. That she owed him.” He paused.
    I leaned on my arm. “And…?”
    Aaron coughed. “He said she wouldn’t give him no more. And he was screwing this girl who was there helping her. A housekeeper or something. When she wouldn’t give them no more money, they roughed her up a little. But she fell down the stairs. She maybe died.”
    “He roughed her up?”
    “He says Rose, or whatever her name is, was the one who hit her.”
    “Rose?”
    “The housekeeper. See, Rose isn’t legal. He thinks maybe she’s letting him screw her so maybe he’ll marry her. Then she can file for a green card.”
    “When did you hear this?”
    “Last week sometime. Or the week before. I dunno exactly.”
    “What’s this guy’s name?” I asked.
    “I just know him as Zee. I dunno his real name.”
    “What does he look like?”
    Aaron tried to shake his head, but I held him too tight. “Just a guy. He don’t use meth, so he don’t look too bad.”
    “What does he use?”
    “Mostly oxys. He says he could get them from the old lady. But he can’t no more.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Because she’s dead. But he’s got a big stash somewhere. When things cool down, he’ll get them. Or maybe send me for them. Give me a cut.”
    “So where’s this stash?”
    “I dunno. But he says it’s worth a lot.”
    It would be, I thought. But only if the two of them didn’t take all of them themselves.
    “Where does he hang out?”
    “Here.”
    “Where’s ‘here’?”
    “He hangs out with the weirdos in the temple.”
    “Is he one of the members?”
    “I guess. Sometimes he wears those yellow robe thingies.”
    Who but a member would be dressed like that? “What does he look like?”
    “Just a guy.”
    Not a whole lot of help. “White or black?”
    “White.”
    “What color hair?”
    “Brownish.”
    “Big?”
    “Taller than me, but even skinnier.”
    “You ain’t telling me a damn thing worth anything. I bet this guy don’t even exist. You’re just making it all up.”
    A cunning look crept into Aaron’s bloodshot eyes. “He knows about you.”
    “What do you mean, he knows about me?”
    “He knows you’re on parole. For murder. He says maybe you’ll end up going down for the old lady’s death.”
    “Why does he say that?” I leaned hard on my arm.
    “I dunno, Jesse. I swear.” Aaron coughed, and his hands clawed at my arm.
    “Tell me what you do know. Or it’ll be your death I’m going down for. And it’ll be worth it.”
    “I can’t breathe,” he gasped.
    I took some of the pressure off. “Talk.”
    “Just that Zee said the old lady owed him.”
    “Why would she owe him?”
    “ I don’t know. He said the old lady gave him money sometimes.”
    I leaned a little harder. “Why would she give Zee money?”
    “Please, Jesse.” Tears came to Aaron’s bleary eyes. “He said he needed money. He was supposed to pay child support. He needed a lawyer to try to get his kid to live with him. And he was using whatever money he got to cop drugs.”
    That I could believe.
    A gust of wind picked up some newspaper from the asphalt and blew it against the wall. Sharp needles of sleet drilled into the back of my neck.
    I eased up and let Aaron plant his feet firmly on the ground. He straightened his jacket and pulled a crumpled tissue from his pocket. “You could’ve hurt me, Jesse.”
    Looking at him in disgust, I shoved my hands in my pockets, as much to keep them from punching Aaron in the face as to get them out of the cold. “I still got the same thing to say to you. Go to an NA meeting. Ask