the lot, facing Kim’s, and did a quick eyeball. Plenty of cars. Busy over at the Thai restaurant across the way. Pickup orders coming out of Big Louie’s. And a patrol car parked nearly in the same spot as last time. My angle was better, but still I could only see a silhouette of the officer’s head. He appeared to have a phone to one ear and he was facing the other way. A knuckle to metal rap on my truck bed fender made me jump. O’Shea was in my side mirror and then at my window.
“How’s it hangin’, Freeman?”
“Take a seat, O’Shea,” I told him, reaching over to pop the lock on the passenger door.
I had not seen him pull in. Maybe he had walked. I realized I still didn’t know where he lived or what kind of vehicle he drove. And still I was taking his side in a possible string of homicides. Maybe I was the one who wasn’t being a very thorough cop.
O’Shea got in and settled. He had a three-day beard and was wearing jeans and a dark windbreaker. He had on a Phillies baseball cap and black soft-soled shoes, like an umpire would wear. I reached back behind the seat and brought out a thermos. He looked through the windows.
“What, you’re on surveillance?” he said, trying to guess ahead.
“Yeah, in a way,” I said, pouring him a cup. He blew across the top before taking a sip. I was matching his unfocused look outside, waiting, like I was at the edge of some cliff, unsure how deep the water was if I jumped.
“I was up in Philly for a couple of days,” I finally said, still not looking at him. “I talked with your ex. She wanted me to tell you she wished you the best and didn’t think you had anything to do with this or with the Faith Hamlin deal.”
He didn’t react, just kept looking forward, but I could see blue veins at the side of his forehead starting to bulge. He was holding something in. But after a few beats of silence, I knew it was going to stay there.
“You going to give me any kind of inside on the grocery store clerk missing up there?”
“No. I’m not,” he said, and the veins pulsed back down.
“Christ, Colin. You can carry the old loyalty to the blue brotherhood a little too far, you know,” I said.
“It’s not loyalty to them,” was all he said and then put the cup to his mouth and went quiet again.
“Look, Colin. I don’t think you’re in on these disappearances. Maybe I’m missing something, because IA in Philly and Richards down here are on you like stink. But I’m on your side on this, man. For some reason, I’m trusting you.”
He stayed quiet but then turned and faced me.
“You said you needed me to help you help me,” O’Shea said. “That kinda gave it away, Freeman. So let’s get to it.”
“Right.”
I took out the cell phone and handed it to him.
“You know how to use the camera in one of these?”
He flipped the set open, looked at the face and turned it over once.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?” I said, thinking of my hour-long self-lesson.
“Yeah. What? You think I’ve been living in a fuckin’ cave down here, Freeman?” Or a swamp, I thought, but didn’t respond.
“But they don’t have any range to ’em,” he said. “Pretty useless for covert work.”
“This is close-up,” I said. “That’s why I need you to do it.”
I told him about my visit to Kim’s and as much detail as I could about the man I’d seen slipping out the back way. I didn’t mention Richards’s presence.
“I’m thinking drug dealer,” I said. “He and the new girl have something going. If he’s got women bartenders selling over the counter for him, maybe they get caught up in the action, try to skim him or some shit. If he’s ruthless enough, maybe he gets rid of the ones that he’s partnering up with.”
“I don’t know, Freeman. I been in and out of these places for a couple of years now and never saw it,” O’Shea said.
“Right. And you never told any of those bartenders you were an ex-cop?”
“Well, it does have a ring to it, you know.”
“And they don’t pass that around to their coworkers who might avoid doing business when you’re in the place?”
“OK. OK. I get the point,” he said and slipped the camera phone into his pocket.
“Like I said, six-foot, dark hair, clean-cut. Probably likes