“Not like this! This wasn’t an OD. Tate tookone.
“I tried to take it back to the guy who cooked it, but the house was empty, all cleaned out, like he’d moved, and I couldn’t get in touch with him. It was like he didn’t even want the money for what he gave me. Who hands over that big a bag of shit and doesn’t even want to collect?”
Mercy had a bad feeling the collection would happen at some point in the future, and it would involve Fisher’s life. “So you were going to destroy it.”
“Yeah.” Fisher propped his chin on his knees, miserable. “I didn’t want you guys to know.”
Collier massaged the bridge of his nose. “Fish, this violates so many parts of our agreement. Namely, sellinginside Knoxville. Sellingto kids.”
“I know,” Fisher groaned. “I know. I’m sorry, man. I’m so sorry.”
“So why do it?” Mercy asked.
“The guy, he said the rich kids would want it. He said they’d eat it up like candy. I dunno why I did it, man. He sat down with me, and he poured me this fancy drink, and we talked, just man-to-man, you know? And he made it sound like a good idea. Like the best idea. I dunno,” he repeated. “I dunno.”
Mercy shared a look with Collier.
Collier said, “This guy got a name?”
Fisher shook his head. “He said to call him William, but I know that ain’t right.”
Collier nodded and retrieved a notepad and pen from the inside pocket of his cut, looking very official. He handed them to Fisher. “We need the address of this house you mentioned.”
Mercy collected the tablets, plucking them up in his too-big fingertips and depositing them all back in the baggie. “This is all of it?”
Fisher nodded. “I don’t ever want to see that shit again.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Collier said, almost gently. “And Fisher, I mean it, no selling in the city limits.” He ruffled his thin, greasy hair.
“Yes, sir.”
“You may wanna put some duct tape or something on that doorjamb,” Mercy said on their way out. “I kinda broke the fuck out of it.”
When they were back breathing clean air and walking to their parked bikes, Collier said, “I hate to be paranoid–”
“But someone’s trying to make the Dogs look bad in this town.”
“Yeah.”
Ava was setting out fresh flats of yellow mums with Mina in the long covered aisles of Green Hills when Leah arrived.
“Isn’t that your friend?” Mina asked in her low, sweet voice.
Ava glanced up and saw Leah coming toward her at a bouncy power walk, her sleek black hair streaked with platinum, her turquoise romper topped with a satin bomber jacket. Her face was pinched with concern.
“Girl! Oh my God. Why didn’t youcall me?” Leah asked as she closed the distance between them and pulled Ava into a fast hug.
For some reason, the sight of her worried best friend made Ava want to cry. She hadn’t told Leah she was going out with Carter, hadn’t so much as texted her about everything that had occurred.
“It was all anyone could talk about in homeroom,” Leah said. “The story going around is that you poisoned Mason and beat Ainsley across the face with a folding chair pro-wrestler-style.”
“I–” Ava started.
“I didn’t believe it,” Leah went on. “Of courseI didn’t believe it.” She stepped back and propped her tiny hands on her hips. “But what the hell went on last night? Andwhy didn’t you call me?”
Mina, pretty and petite and all swallowed up by her Green Hills polo with its Manager label stitched on the chest, excused herself and drifted a tactful distance away, giving them some privacy.
Ava pulled off her printed garden gloves and let them dangle from one limp arm, staring down at the scuffed toes of her work boots. “I knew you’d tell me I was an idiot for going out with Carter. And I knew you’d be right, and for some reason, I was dead set on being stupid.”
