Now I knew how he could afford it.
No answer on the knock so we looked in the windows. I’d been to Rosie’s dozens of times and it didn’t look any different than normal.
“Be a shame to lose those primo pot plants. Do you think someone’s taking care of those plants?” I asked.
Ally gave a shrug and then turned brightly to me. “I bet I know who’d know!”
“Who?”
“Lee.”
I shoved her shoulder. “Smartass.”
Deciding to take a page out of Jane’s book, we “canvassed the neighborhood” knocking on doors and asking people if they knew or had seen Rosie.
No luck, most people were away at work, the ones that were in barely knew him and no one had seen him. He didn’t seem incredibly popular, nor did Ally and I for knocking on their doors.
Somewhere between getting stun-gunned and our current adventure, Ally had business cards made up with her and my names and numbers on them.
When she gave the first one out, I nearly choked.
“Where’d you get those?” I asked her as we walked away from the house.
“I called Brody. He made them up last night. Put them in my mailbox. Aren’t they righteous?”
Dear Lord.
Brody was a friend of ours, had been since high school. He was a computer dweeb, worked at home programming PC games, barely ever left the house and he made a shed load of money. He also barely ever slept. He lived on energy drinks and cheese puffs and shopped for groceries exclusively at open-all-night-convenience stores.
We headed to the emergency contact of Rosie’s we hadn’t yet gone after, the one whose beauty sleep I’d disturbed the day before. Rosie had recorded his name in the employee file as Kevin “The Kevster” James.
The Kevster answered the door wearing a pair of filthy jeans, a black Hendrix tee so faded it was now gray over a thermal, long-john shirt even though it was firmly eighty-six degrees. He had scraggly hair of an indescribable color and it was pretty clear we’d found out who was looking after Rosie’s pot plants, with liberal sampling.
“Hey dudettes.” Was his greeting.
We introduced ourselves and he smiled. “Dig it! I heard about you guys.” He turned to me. “Rosie talks about you all the time, thinks you are the shit. Best job he’s ever had, man, workin’ for a rock chick.”
I felt the first rush of warmth toward Rosie I’d had in two days.
“Hey!” Kevin asked, “What happened to your eye?”
“Got hit in the face by a bad guy,” I told him.
“Hope you kneed him in the nuts,” The Kevster said, leaning forward to look at my eye.
“I bit him.”
“That’s good too,” he replied though it was clear a knee to the nuts would have been the preferred form of retaliation, unfortunately by that time I was stun-gunned.
“We’re looking for Rosie,” I explained.
“Step in line, dudette. Everybody’s looking for Rosie. Ehv-ree-bud-ee. Had dudes here all day yesterday asking about him.”
“Who are these dudes? Do you know them?” Ally asked.
“Most of ‘em, yeah. They want some product, if-you-know-what-I-mean.”
We nodded. We knew what he meant.