Free The Tin Collectors by Stephen J. Cannell

energetically over the still East Channel, he opened his cell phone and dialed Sandy.
    She answered after the tenth ring and seemed out of breath. "Yes," she said. "Hello." She also sounded angry and impatient.
    "Catch you at a bad time?" he asked sarcastically.
    "Shane, I can't talk now. I was already out the door. I'm late."
    "Then let me make it quick. I think they're going to throw Chooch out of Harvard Westlake for dealing grass. Some guy named Thackery wants a teacher's meeting with you. I told him I'd let you know. That's the whole message. Nice talking to you."
    "Wait a minute. He's dealing what?"
    "Grass . . . Mary Jane, Aunt Hazel, African bush, bambalacha. You pick the cool name. He's selling shit to his classmates, and Mr. Thackery ain't one little bit amused about it."
    "Well, what am I supposed to do? I can't... I mean, can't we . . . ?"
    "Unfortunately, I don't think there's much we can do. But you've gotta call and set something up. As Thackery says, 'It's for everybody's good.' Ad mumble bubble gum. And before you ask, lemme say that as this month's paid jerkoff, I'm not up for the teacher's conference."
    "Come on, Shane, it can't be that bad."
    "Sandy, I'm in some very big trouble myself right now. Big enough that I could end up getting fired or, worse still, even prosecuted by the DA."
    "But "
    "No. Listen. I can't handle this problem. I didn't know what I was getting into with Chooch."
    "He sounds worse than he is. He's not that bad. You just have to be patient with him."
    "You're sure about that? 'Cause I think he's one very confused, very angry kid. I think he's in the diamond lane to Juvenile Hall, and not that you care, Sandy, but I think you need to pay more attention to him. This kid is being passed around like a hot rock. Nobody's giving him what he needs."
    "Including you?" she said darkly. "I thought you told me you were up for it, that you wanted to make a one-on-one investment in something with lasting dividends."
    "What the fuck were we drinking, anyway?"
    "Shane, look, I hear you. Unfortunately, I'm working for the DEA right now. I'm up to my ass in a dangerous sting that is days from going down. You know from the jobs we've pulled together that my biggest jeopardy is right before I drop the dime. If I get made now, I could end up the captain of a fifty-gallon oil drum at the bottom of the Catalina Channel. I can't take Chooch. I can't take a chance he'll get hurt, and I can't divert my energies or my concentration at this point in the sting. You said you'd take him. You promised. Otherwise, I wouldn't have left him there."
    "Okay, Sandy. I'll do the best I can. But you wanna know something . . . ?"
    "Not if it's gonna be a lecture."
    "It's an opinion, baby. This boy is hurting bad. He's on fire. He's so self-destructive, I'm heartsick for him. But I'm up to my ass in department bullshit. I shot my ex-partner."
    "That was you? It was on the news." Shane didn't answer. "Well, good," Sandy finished. "Ray was a son of a bitch. He deserved to die."
    "No, he didn't. But if this goes like it's been going, I'm not going to be available for Chooch, either. So start figuring what you're gonna do and call this prick Thackery and get him off my ass.
    "Okay, okay, sugar. I'll call him. Gotta run. Bye." And she was gone.
    He slumped down in his rusting metal lawn chair, and then someone cleared his throat. Shane turned and realized that Chooch had come out the side door and had been sitting in one of the other metal chairs at the side of the house.
    "Well, she's probably got a lot more important shit on her mind," Chooch said. "Want me to roll you a number? It's pretty fine Jamaican ganja."
    Chooch had some Zig-Zag papers and a small cloth drawstring bag in his hand. Shane hadn't had a hit of marijuana since the Marine Corps, but he was so tight, so frayed, that he was worried about his imploding psyche. "Yeah, sure, roll me up one."
    "No shit?" Chooch said, "What about Rule One: No smoking grass in my