Page 272 of 7+Us Makes Nine

I collapsed to my knees, holding my head in my hands.

Shit. I thought… no hoped, that he’d died. What sort of life will I have with Conall back here in town? He’ll be watching my every move.

I briefly considered fleeing town, but I didn’t have enough money saved to make a good go of it. I could go to the police, but all the info I had on Conall was old. The case was probably closed a long time ago. I doubt they even knew Conall was back in town yet.

Just gotta stay strong, Eden. Don’t let him get to you.

I picked myself up, straightening my clothes out. I wiped the tears from my face as my expression hardened. I wasn’t going to let Conall O’Rourke ruin my day.

Without thinking I picked up the bag of meth and headed for the bathroom. I flushed the bag down the toilet, turning my anger and fear into strength as I watched it disappear.

The roll of bills Conall had was still in the hall. I picked it up.

A few hundred dollars. Maybe a thousand. For all the shit you’ve put me through, for the years of abandonment without a cent, without a phone call. Screw you, Conall.

I quickly brushed my hair back and applied some makeup to hide the bruise that was forming on my cheek.

I tucked the dollar bills into my purse as I left the house. Conall didn’t know it, but he was soon to make a generous and sizeable donation to the Wounded Warriors Project. Money that would go to heroes; veterans and their families. Not the scum that heConall dealt with.

I haven't needed anything from himConall since he left. And I’m not going to start taking his drug money now.

I walked down the street, head held high. Thinking of a way to get Conall locked up or killed.

I didn’t formulate anything feasible, but it made me feel better anyway.

THREE

Jack

I sat casually at my desk, left elbow resting on the corner of the wooden surface, leaning forward with my chin on my left palm. I was drumming the fingers of my right hand steadily on the desk. My eyes were half closed, and to most I probably looked tired or hungover.

But my mind was racing. It was 09:00am, the day after Lucas had brought in the sample of meth for me. I’d spent the rest of the afternoon brainstorming ideas, where the meth was coming from,

who the key players could be.

I’d even built a little case wall next to my desk, which had brought laughter from some of my fellow Detectives. They had scoffed at the idea of the O’Rourkes resurfacing and had taken great pleasure of mocking me as I went about pinning scraps of paper to the board.

Yeah, the idea probably does seem stupid to you. Probably because you haven’t been approached with a bribe yet. You slimy asshole.

After getting bored of the old deadbeats, I had told them precisely where to shove their criticism and carried on with my theorizing.

This is what actual Detectives do. Look and learn. You won’t be the ones laughing if this theory actually turns out to be something. Nah, you’ll be wishing you were the ones to crack the case and save the citizens.

I had smiled at the thought of getting one over on the old detectives, most of whom had made my life really difficult when they realized I wouldn’t take a bribe or look the other way for them.

Eventually I’d have to get some actual evidence to take to the Lieutenant. If I went with what I had now, which was just a hunch, he would tell me to stop wasting his time.

However, if I actually pieced just a little of the puzzle together, I knew he would listen carefully. Might even let me open a case.

My case.

I still had a few contacts from my days of working undercover. A score or more of junkies who I’d dealt meth to in order to keep up appearances, and a couple of Police Informers who had been associates of the O’Rourkes, but had ratted on them for reduced sentences.

I knew some of them would be back in the business. Probably ready to snitch and run at the first sign of trouble.

Snakes. At least most gangsters have a code of honour, a system of respect. These guys are worse than gangsters, will turn sides as soon as they can get something out of it.

I hated them, but I needed them just as much as I hated them.

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