Free Piggyback by Tom Pitts Page B

really had to, I could just fake it. Higher education, my ass. Nobody ever checks that shit. Turns out I didn ’ t need a college degree; I got mine certified at the school of hard knocks. ”
    Linda chuckled. She ’ d heard that one before. She tried to stay focused on her guest but her eyes kept blurring. When her chin slipped off of the heel of her hand, Paul asked, “ You want a little pick-me-up? ”
    Linda raised her eyebrows. Paul smiled as he produced the small square baggie from his breast pocket.
    “ Oh my goodness, you are a naughty boy, aren ’ t you? ” Linda smiled and winked with a red and tired eye. “ Okay, but we ’ ll have to be quick; I don ’ t want to get caught by the girls. ”
    Paul was already fishing for his keys.
    Linda said, “ Wait, I have something better. ” She stood up from the tall chair and went over to a small drawer beside the fridge. It was a knick knack drawer, full of pens and screwdrivers, broken flashlights and dead batteries. She found what she was looking for: a small, flat chunk of marble.
    “ Perfect, ” she said. “ One more thing. ” She opened up their large pantry and, from a box with a clown face on it, took out two long, striped straws and handed one to Paul.
    “ Looks like you ’ re no stranger to naughty. ”
    “ No, sweetheart, I ’ m well acquainted with naughty, ” she said, hoping it sounded as flirtatious as she meant it.
    Paul grinned and poured a healthy pile of blow onto the marble.
     
     
    “ Who else knew about your little charade? ”
    The girls gave each other a furtive glance. Jimmy crackled the stun gun.
    “ Nobody. Nobody knew. Just me, Becky, Tristan, and Jerrod. ”
    “ Somebody else knew. ”
    “ We didn ’ t tell. ” Tristan had finally spoken up, he voice was hoarse and it still cracked like he was in puberty. “ We were going to meet the girls here and take the stuff to a friend of ours back in Chico. ”
    “ Who ’ s the friend? ” asked Jimmy.
    “ Jerrod ’ s friend, Sky, but he didn ’ t know where it was coming from, no way. We were only gonna sell him four pounds, then sit on the rest until he wanted more. That ’ s all, Jerrod will tell you. ”
    “ More what? ”
    Tristan was bewildered. His eyebrows arched. He wondered if it was a trick question. “ More weed, ” he answered.
    Jimmy was getting tired of the interrogation. Either these kids were stupid as they come or they were not telling him the truth. He stood for a moment weighing his next move.
    “ Go downstairs and ask him, ” said Tristan.
    “ Maybe we should. ” Jimmy stepped toward the door and opened it a crack. From the kitchen, he could hear the familiar sound of chopping. Paul and Linda seemed to be occupied. Jimmy returned the stun gun to his jacket pocket and unholstered the .38. Directing them with the gun, Jimmy said, “ Alright. One at a time. Let ’ s go down to the scene of the crime. ”
    They crept down the stairs in single file. First Tristan, then Becky, then Shelly. The girls wishing they had the courage to run for a phone, call for help, scream, anything. Tristan was sullen, broken, resigned to his fate being in someone else ’ s hands. They tip-toed past the kitchen where Paul and Shelly ’ s mother ’ s noisy laughter would have drowned out any noise they made anyway. Shelly turned her head toward the happy sounds and felt the hard poke of the .38 in the middle of her back.
    They reached the door to the garage and passed on through. Jimmy shut it as quietly as possible. The laughter and conversation from the kitchen was suddenly cut off. They stood in the bright light on the smooth cement of the garage floor with an echoing silence filling the space between them.
    “ Becky? C ’ mere for a minute, ” said Jimmy as he walked to the rear of the Camry. He fished in his pocket for the key as he waited for her to walk over to him. Jimmy stuck the key in the lock located just to the left of the In-n-Out bumper sticker.
    “