I nod, motioning for him to continue. "Any idea where this stuff is coming from?"
Keegan hesitates, and I can feel the struggle he's facing. He's caught between wanting to do the right thing and not wanting to be seen as a snitch. It's a position I understand all too well. Not to mention people will talk about his dad being police.
"You know I'm not asking you to rat out your friends, right? I'm asking because people could get hurt. People probably already have gotten hurt."
That seems to break through his defenses. He looks up at me, and I see fear in his eyes—real, genuine fear.
"It's coming from The Rebels," he says quietly. "There's this guy, Ethan. He's been dealing to kids at school for months now. He used to come with Tommy, but since what happened…"
It goes without saying. Ethan. That's the name I needed for him to say. The Rebels have been trying to muscle in on our territory for the better part of a year, and if they're dealing poison to kids, that's a line crossed that can't be uncrossed.
"Tell me about Ethan. What's he look like? How's he making contact with the kids?" I need to pretend like I don't know anything. If I go in with bias, then it might not hold up in court.
"He's older, maybe mid-twenties. Tall, thin, always wears this leather jacket with The Rebels patch on it. He doesn't come onto school property, but he hangs out at the convenience store across the street after school. Kids know to find him there."
"And he's selling what, exactly?"
"Weed, mostly. But like I said, it's not just weed. There's something else in it." Keegan's voice drops to almost a whisper. "I heard someone say it was laced with fentanyl."
We were fucking right. Fentanyl-laced marijuana is a death sentence waiting to happen, especially for kids who don't know what they're taking. The fact that The Rebels are peddling this shit to high schoolers makes my undercover cop instincts scream for justice, while my MC president persona wants to ride over there and handle it the old-fashioned way.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "How long has this been going on, Keegan?"
"Maybe two months? It started small, just a few kids. But word spread, and now..." He shrugs helplessly. "Now there's a lot of kids buying from him."
"Anyone you know personally?"
Keegan nods reluctantly. "There's this kid in my grade, Logan. He's been acting strange lately, more aggressive than usual. And he's always got money now, which is weird because his family doesn't have much."
Logan. This name I don't know. "What else can you tell me about Logan?"
"He's trouble, always has been. Bullies younger kids, talks back to teachers. But lately, it's gotten worse. He's been making comments about Ms. Roberts. Inappropriate stuff that makes everyone uncomfortable."
The picture Keegan's painting is getting clearer, and it's not a pretty one. A kid with behavioral problems, likely under the influence of drugs, targeting Allison? It's a powder keg waiting to explode, and I will be on the other side of this if I'm not careful. Especially when it comes to Dime and Dani.
"Has anyone reported Logan's behavior?"
"I don't think so. Kids are scared of him, and the teachers... I think they're trying to handle it themselves."
"What about you? Have you ever bought from Ethan?"
Keegan's eyes widen, and he shakes his head quickly. Probably terrified I'll run and tell his dad. "No, never. I know better than that, especially with who my dad is." He stops for a second, inhaling deeply. “My Grandpa told me about what happened to a kid who had bought bad moonshine from my Grandmother’s family back in the day. I’m not interested in touching any of that stuff. I might have a few sips of beer now and then at a party, but I was raised to make sure everyone around me stayed safe and there was always someone keeping watch to make sure everyone got home. It usually falls to me, and I’m okay with that.” He shrugs. “I’ve got big shoulders.”
There it is, the burden of being a cop's kid. Always having to be better, always being watched, always knowing that any mistake reflects on more than just yourself.
"But you've seen the effects firsthand?"
He hesitates again, and I can see he's wrestling with something big. Finally, he takes a deep breath and looks me straight in the eye.
"There was a party last weekend. House party while the parents were out of town. I wasn't drinking or anything, just hanging out with some friends. But Logan was there, and he had some of Ethan's stuff with him."
My pulse quickens. "What happened?"
"Logan was sharing it around. Most kids didn't want any, but there were a few who took him up on it. About an hour later, one of them, a sophomore named Jake, started acting really weird. Sweating, shaking, couldn't catch his breath."
"Did anyone call for help?"
"That's just it," Keegan says, his voice cracking slightly. "Jake collapsed. Just went down like he'd been knocked out. We thought he was dead for a minute there. Someone finally called 911, and the paramedics had to use Narcan to bring him back."
