Night Fever. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ can’t use his record against him in juvenile court,” the youngest Harris reminded them.

      “Listen,” the man told his sons. “If Kilpatrick gets his hands on that boy again, he’ll try him as an adult. Bet on it. Just make sure the Cullen boy stays in your pockets. Meanwhile,” he added thoughtfully, “I’ve got to get Kilpatrick out of mine. I think it might be worthwhile to float a contract, before he gets his teeth into us.”

      “Mike down at the Hayloft would know somebody,” Son told his father with narrowed eyes.

      “Good. Ask him. Do it tonight,” he added. “Kilpatrick’s term is up this year; he’ll have to run. He may use us as an example to win the election.”

      “Cullen says he isn’t going to run again,” Son said.

      The older Harris glared at him. “Everybody says that. I don’t buy it. How about the grammar school operation?”

      “I’ve got it in the bag,” Son assured him. “We’re lining up Cullen for that. He’s got a younger brother who goes there.”

      “But will the younger brother go along?”

      Son looked up. “I’ve got an angle on that. We’re going to let Cullen go on a buy with us, so that the supplier gets a good look at him. After that, he’s mine.”

      “Nice work,” the older man said, smiling. “You two could swear he was the brains of the outfit, and Kilpatrick would buy it. Get going, then.”

      “Sure thing, Dad.”

      * * *

      One afternoon Becky noticed Clay talking earnestly to Mack as she walked in after work. Mack said something explosive and stomped off. Clay glanced at her and looked uncomfortable.

      She wondered what it was all about. Probably another quarrel. The boys never seemed to get along these days. She started a load of clothes in the washing machine and cooked supper. In between, she daydreamed about the district attorney and wished that she was pretty and vivacious and rich.

      “Got to go to the library, Becky!” Clay called on his way out the front door.

      “Is it open this late...?” she began, but there was the slam of one door, then another, then a car roared away.

      She ran to the window. The Harris boys, she thought, furious. He’d been told to stay away from them. Mr. Brady had warned him; so had she. But how could she keep Clay away unless she tied him up? She couldn’t tell Granddad. He’d had a bad day and had gone to bed early. If only she had someone to talk to!

      Mack was doing his math homework at the kitchen table without an argument, strangely silent and uneasy.

      “Anything I can help you with?” she asked, pausing beside him.

      He looked up and then away, a little too quickly. “No. Just something Clay asked me to do and I said no.” He twirled his pencil. “Becky, if you know something bad’s going to happen, and you don’t tell anybody, does that make you guilty, too?”

      “Such as?”

      “Oh, I didn’t have anything in mind, really,” Mack said evasively.

      Becky hesitated. “Well, if you know something wrong is being done, you should tell. I don’t believe in being a tattletale, but something dangerous should be reported.”

      “I guess you’re right.” He went back to work, leaving Becky no wiser than before.

      Clay went with the Harris boys to pick up their load of crack. In the past three weeks, he’d learned plenty about how to find customers for the Harrises. He knew the kids who were hassled at home, who were having trouble with schoolwork, who were mad for anything outside the law. He’d already made a sale or two and the money was incredible, even with a small commission. For the first time, he had money to flash and Francine was all over him. He’d bought himself a few new things, like some designer shirts and jeans. He was careful to keep them in his locker at school so that Becky wouldn’t know. Now he wanted a car. He just wasn’t sure how to keep Becky in the dark. Probably he could leave it with the Harris boys. Sure, that was a good move. Or with Francine.

      He was still seething about Mack. He’d asked him to help him find customers at the elementary school, but Mack had gotten furious and told him he’d do no such thing! He threatened to tell Becky, too, but Clay had dared him. He knew things about Mack that he could tell—like about those girlie magazines Mack hid in his closet, and the butterfly knife he’d traded for at school that Becky didn’t know he had. Mack had backed down, but he’d gone off mad, and Clay was a little nervous. He didn’t think his brother would tell on him, but you never knew with kids.

      They were at the pickup point, a deserted little diner out in the boonies, with two suppliers in a four-wheel-drive jeep. The Harris boys were acting odd, he thought, noticing the way their eyes shifted. They’d left the motor running in the car, too. Clay wondered if he was getting spooked.

      “You go ahead with the money,” Son told Clay, patting him on the back. “Nothing to worry about. We’re always careful, just in case the law makes a try for us, but we’re in the clear tonight. Just walk down there and pass the money.”

      Clay hesitated. Up until now, it had just been little amounts of coke. This would label him as a buyer and a dealer, and he could go up for years if he was caught. For a moment he panicked, trying to imagine how that would affect Becky and Granddad. Then he got himself under control and lifted the duffel bag containing the money. He wouldn’t get caught. The Harris boys knew their way around. It would be all right. And this supplier wouldn’t be too anxious to finger him, either, because Clay could return the favor.

      By the time he got to the black-clad figure in the trendy sports coat, standing beside a high-class Mercedes-Benz, he was almost swaggering with confidence. He didn’t say two words to the supplier. He handed over the money, it was checked, and the coke, in another satchel, was given to him. He’d seen dealers on TV shows test the stuff, but apparently in real life the quality was assured. The Harris boys didn’t seem bothered at all. Clay took the goods, nodded at the dealer, and walked back to where Son and his brother were waiting, his heart going like a drum, his breath almost gasping out of his throat. It was an incredible high, just overcoming his own fear and doing something dangerous for a change. His eyes sparkled as he reached the car.

      “Okay.” Son grinned. He took Clay by the shoulders and shook him. “Good man! Now you’re one of us.”

      “I am?” Clay asked, hesitating.

      “Sure. You’re a dealer, just like us. And if you don’t cooperate, Bubba and I will swear that you’re the brains of the outfit and that you set up this deal.”

      “The supplier knows better,” Clay argued.

      Son laughed. “He isn’t a supplier,” he said, studying his nails. “He’s one of Dad’s flunkies. Why do you think we didn’t test the stuff before you handed over the money?”

      “If he’s just one of your father’s men...” Clay was trying to think it through.

      “There was a surveillance unit across the street,” Son said easily. “They made you. They couldn’t pick you up because there wasn’t enough time to get a backup and they knew you’d СКАЧАТЬ