Page 19 of Keeping Collette

“Listen, quick change of plan. I know we were going to ask about Courtney’s disappearance, but if they know anything, they’re going to clam up. I’ve got another idea, and I need you to go along with me.”

“Okay.” Her quick agreement shocked him; he expected her to argue.

“Thank you. Now,” he reached into his pocket where he pulled out the eyedrops he used for his dry eyes, “I’m going to put these in and then I want you to rub your eyes vigorously.”

Realization dawned in her eyes. “I see what you’re aiming for. Do it.” She lifted her head so that he could put them in. Once he’d done so, he added some to his own.

As he hoped, Collette’s eyes looked bloodshot, as though she wanted a hit. Or had had one recently.

“Let’s go.”

“Hang on,” she said, as she squatted and rubbed her hands over the dirty ground. She then rubbed them up and down her shirt so she looked even more bedraggled. She even messed her hair.

Deal followed suit, careful not to knock the recording device off his shirt.

They looked less like people who lived a reasonable lifestyle and more like people who were desperate and didn’t know where their next meal was coming from.

“Ready?” he asked, and activated the button.

Collette took a deep breath and nodded.

Together, they entered the store. Deal noted the security camera, but as they’d discovered, it wasn’t pointing at the door. A different guy stood behind the counter this time; he had a scruffy beard, but there was something about his lightly bloodshot eyes that seemed familiar. Even the shape of his nose. He reeked of weed.

Did he know this person?

He didn’t think so. He was pretty good at remembering faces, and while there were aspects that triggered something in his brain, it wasn’t enough for him to know exactly who this person was.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the idea that he knew him.

Deal shook the thought aside. He could come back to it and decipher it when he looked at the footage. He had more important things to focus on now.

They stopped at the counter, and Collette fidgeted beside him. She touched her shirt, before touching her jeans and then back to her shirt. Little twitches to indicate she was a junkie, and given how she’d grown up, she’d more than likely been exposed to these types of movements.

“What do you need?” The guy asked, straight to the point, as though he figured out they weren’t there to buy some milk.

“What ya got?” Deal twitched a little as well. It wouldn’t do well for him to act perfectly normal, while Collette was getting into the role.

“My sister said you got the good stuff,” Collette blurted out.

“Really? Who’s your sister? Maybe we’ve partied.” The guy leered toward Collette, and he was impressed that she didn’t take a step back. Her body tensed infinitesimally though, before she relaxed again.

“Court. She only had good things to say about you and what you can give us.”

“Don’t know the name, but then again, name’s not important. But I ain’t running a charity here. I need to see some cash first, and then we can talk.”

The door opened behind them, and the guy’s face hardened as if he didn’t want to see whoever had wandered in.

“Mal, been looking for ya. I got questions.” Whoever spoke, clearly smoked twenty packs a day or had injured their voice. It was gravelly, just above a whisper.

Deal tugged Collette closer to her. This wasn’t ideal, but if he had to, he could take them out, and while it would be impossible for his friends to get to his location quickly, they’d be able to get in touch with the cops. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but if it looked like things were going south, keeping Collette safe was a priority.

“Fuck off, Jim. I’m busy.”

Collette yelped when the guy stormed up to where they stood and slammed his fist on the counter, the boxes of candy jostling at the action.

Deal took a step back and shoved Collette behind him, keeping her anchored there.

“I don’t fucking care if you’re entertaining the king of fucking England. I want to know if you know anything about a package that was delivered here, but has now gone missing.” Surprisingly, given the area, his voice, and the guy’s short temper, he was well dressed. His clothes were neatly pressed and didn’t look as though they came from a discount store. Even his leather jacket looked in good condition. He was also clean shaven and his hair was cut short. He may not look like a drug dealer, but they came in all sorts of shapes and sizes.