“Zeke,” she greeted him, using the name he went by. Only Josie called him “Needle”—he didn’t even know about the private nickname she had given him as a small child, knowing him only as the man who brought needles to the woman who had posed as her mother. As a child, Josie hadn’t realized the needles were so that Lila could inject herself with drugs. She just knew this man came to their trailer often and as much as she didn’t like him or his wares, the truth was that he’d saved Josie from terrible things as a child. Not all the terrible things that had happened to her—he’d stood by while Lila locked her in a closet for days, starved her, and otherwise abused her, but he had saved her from the worst that Lila had tried to do to her.
Josie was never sure if she should feel grateful to him for having improved her life with Lila even incrementally, or if she should be furious with him because he never stepped in and tried to have her removed from Lila’s care. Then again, he had been Lila’s drug dealer. That he noticed Josie at all and tried to help her was probably more than was warranted.
“Sit,” Needle said, waving toward the other chairs in the room, as if he were hosting them in his living room and not in an interview room at the police headquarters.
Josie took the seat closest to him, trying not to grimace as her stitches pulled. Gretchen sat opposite, her notepad in hand, pen ready to go. “I’m not here for a social visit,” Josie told him.
He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke upward, away from her. “I know that, JoJo. But it’s good to get out of that cell. Never liked them cells much. Truth be told, I’d rather be out under the stars with nowhere to lay my head than in a cell.”
Josie took out her phone and brought up a photo of Vera from her days at the salon, before Beverly was born. She slid it across to Needle. “Do you remember that woman?”
Needle put his cigarette in the ashtray and sipped his coffee as he studied it. “She dead?”
“Yes,” Josie told him.
He looked up at her, smiling again, but this time she saw a familiar look in his pale gray eyes. A little bit of suspicion and a lot of hardness. “You tryin’ to pin something on me, JoJo?”
Josie said, “That cell you hate so much? It’s your alibi. I’m not trying to pin anything on you. I just need information. Her name was Vera. I went to high school with her daughter. She used to work at a salon here in Denton which is where she sold drugs to rich women. Painkillers, pot, that sort of thing.”
He kept studying the photo. Josie reached over and swiped through several more photos. He eyed each one as if it were some kind of hieroglyph he was trying to decipher. Josie waited. When he didn’t say anything, she picked up the pack of cigarettes that Noah had secured for the interview and shook a new one out, handing it to Needle.
He took it, lit up, inhaled, and on the exhale, said, “I remember her. No one’s seen her in years though.”
“How many years?” Gretchen asked.
“Lotta years.”
Josie said, “What else can you tell me about her?”
He looked up from the phone and Josie took it back. “She wasn’t in it heavy, not at first. The painkillers were a side hustle, to get extra money. You’re right, sometimes she needed other things, but it was mostly painkillers. She had those rich bitch clients but there were only a few. She didn’t need much. Not until she started taking them herself.”
“She had an accident,” Gretchen supplied. “Then she started taking painkillers.”
Needle shrugged. “I don’t know what all happened to her. She was around a lot looking for them for a lotta years, then she wasn’t, then she was back, and it was like someone put her through a damn time machine. She couldn’t hardly walk, didn’t have no money, and all she wanted was more and more and more. Then one day—nothing. Figured she overdosed.”
“Did she buy from you?” Josie asked.
He chuckled. “Come on, JoJo. I’m already in here for lootin’. You said you wasn’t gonna pin nothing on me.”
“I don’t care if she was,” Josie said. “I’m not charging you for drugs you sold to someone thirty years ago or sixteen years ago—someone who’s dead. I need to know who supplied her. I need a name.”
Needle sat back in his chair and puffed away at his cigarette. He stroked his beard. “A name,” he said. “I might have a name for you.”
“You do or you don’t,” Gretchen said.
His eyes darted in her direction and then landed back on Josie. “I do. But JoJo, you caught me at a bad time, you know? I’m in here. Tomorrow they’ll be taking me over to central booking. Then I’ll be in for a few months before all this gets straightened out.”
Josie smiled at him. “Three meals a day, Zeke. You could do worse.”
“Never had no trouble finding meals,” he said.
Josie leaned in toward him. “What do you want?”
“You’re a big shot now, JoJo. You could pull some strings for an old friend. Get me some reduced charges. Hell, maybe get me out of here completely.”
She felt something harden inside her. “You’re not an old friend, and I’m not pulling any strings for you. Give me the name. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable while you’re here.”
He sighed, put his cigarette out, and folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe we’re not friends, JoJo,” he said. “But you always were a smart kid. You know how the world works. I have something you want. You have something I want. Seems to me that’s a fair trade.”
Josie said, “I don’t even know if the information you’ve got is of any use. What if the person I’m looking for is dead? Then what? You can’t guarantee anything. I’m not making any deals with you. Either you give me a name or you don’t.”
“And if I don’t?”
Josie smiled. “I’m a smart kid. I’ll figure it out.”
Needle narrowed his eyes at her. “Jojo—” he began, but his words were cut off by her new cell phone ringing on the table between them. Josie glanced at the screen, then back at Gretchen. “It’s Colbert PD. Come on, let’s go.”
Thirty-Six
Ten minutes later, Josie and Gretchen were on the way to Colbert in Josie’s vehicle. The landlord had been tracked down, and he was more than happy to help them. He said he’d meet them at Alice’s address with keys and a copy of the lease she had signed. The emotional roller coaster of the past day seemed to slow with this news. It felt like they might have a real lead.
Gretchen said, “I think when we get back, you should talk to Needle again.”
Josie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m not asking Needle who Vera’s supplier was. I’m not doing him any favors.”
“Boss,” Gretchen said. “It’s the fastest way to get the information.”
“By asking the district attorney to go easy on him? Gretchen, he’s a career criminal.”
“Yes, he is, but he’s also a non-violent offender. His rap sheet up until this past week was made up entirely of drug offenses.”