Page 17 of To Die For

“Yeah, I’ve seen that.”

“Crappy deal in life, but her parents loved her, man,” said Baldy. “They just ain’t never figure out how to be… normal, I guess. Dwayne had him a big-ass heart, but that ’bout all that boy had. Ain’t never hold no job and rub two dimes together. He was always expectin’ somethin’ to drop in his lap and save his ass.”

“A dreamer,” added Big Hair.

“Well,” said Devine. “He got a nightmare instead. Thanks for the info. I’ll do what I can.”

The two men left him, and Devine circled back toward the bar where he’d lost track of Fred.

When he heard screams, Devine started to run.

Inside the bar he saw that the music had stopped and so had the partying mood. People were gathered around something on the dance floor. One woman turned to the side and threw up probably what amounted to every ounce of drink and morsel of food she’d had tonight.

He pushed his way through the crowd and to the object of all the attention.

Fred was lying on his back, his hands cupped over his stomach like he was hiding something there. The floor under him was covered in blood and Devine could see a trail of it going off toward the back hall, as though someone had dripped red paint the whole way.

Fred’s eyes opened and he saw Devine.

“Who did this to you?” said Devine, kneeling next to the man.

Fred said something garbled, and then seized Devine’s arm. His next words were clearer, but still made no sense to Devine. Then Fred’s eyes closed, his grip fell away, and the little man let out a long breath, which turned out to be his very last one.

CHAPTER

8

SO THE MAN WAS OFFERINGinformation in return for cash—was that the way it played out?” said Detective Stephen Braddock, who was with the Seattle PD.

Devine nodded as both men eyed the body of the late Perry Rollins, aka Fred, whose identity had been positively confirmed with the driver’s license tucked inside his wallet. That and forty wrinkled bucks and two quarters, and one expired credit card, along with a recent receipt from a local hardware store for drywall joint compound, some paint, batteries, and a mousetrap.

Braddock was beefy and of middle height. His chin had a couple days’ worth of stubble. The man possessed a pair of penetrating eyes, which lurched around in their sockets in an apparent attempt to miss nothing going on around the vicinity of their owner. He had chewed down four sticks of gum while talking to Devine.

“That’s pretty much it,” agreed Devine. He had stayed behind to meet with the first responders, identified his federal agent status to them, and then hung around to speak to Braddock. The CSI team was all over the premises performing their forensic dance with the available evidence. The bar goers, at least those who had not fled prior to the cops’ arrival, had been shocked out of their drunkenness, and were cloistered in an upstairs room for processing and questioning.

“He have any family?” asked Devine.

“None that we know of. FYI, Rollins has crossed our path before. I believe he came out here over a decade or so ago. He did some time in the local lockups. Just petty crap. But he kept his eyesand ears attuned to stuff. He actually provided us info on a couple of cases that helped us out.”

“He knew more about my situation than he should have.”

“He apparently made a meager living out of knowing things he shouldn’t.”

“So if he was a cop snitch, maybe whoever he ratted out took their revenge?”

“Maybe,” said Braddock cautiously.

“But you’re thinking the timing is too coincidental?” noted Devine.

“You’re tracking him after he offers to sell you something, and then, bam, he bites it?” Braddock eyed him. “Couple of witnesses said Rollins might have spoken to you before he shut his eyes for the last time?”

“He did. But I couldn’t make it out. It was garbled. Guy was gushing blood, maybe delirious.”

Braddock nodded. “Okay, but if the garbled becomes less garbled, let me know.”

“Will do,” said Devine. He’d actually made out some words, but they made no sense, and he decided not to disclose them yet.

“So he wanted to sell you info. What about exactly?”

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