Daylight (Atlee Pine #3)(23)

She walked out the front door to face them.





CHAPTER





14





CAN I HELP YOU?” asked Pine as she stood on the front sidewalk staring at the group. To a person they all stared back at her. The oldest looked to be early twenties, the youngest fourteen or so. It was one thirty in the afternoon, so Pine wondered why the school-aged among them were not where they should have been. She could read in their eyes and attitudes one very clear reality: They didn’t trust anyone who wore a badge.

She asked her question again.

None of them answered her. Again. They just stared.

She took a few steps forward, acutely aware of the delicacy of the situation. She didn’t move her hand close to her Glock, though it was visible to all of them, as was the shiny FBI shield that she had pinned to her belt. Pine knew it was not impenetrable protection, not here, maybe nowhere anymore.

“Did any of you know Jerome Blake?”

“He’s dead. Cops shot him.”

This came from a boy in the back, around fifteen, hair cut near to the scalp, wiry build, features hardened beyond his years. But not for a place like this. For a place like this, he was probably just right.

She said, “Jerome had a gun. He might have shot someone.”

“Jerome didn’t shoot nobody.”

This came from the oldest looking of the group.

“Okay, tell me why you think that.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?” said the man.

“I’m a federal cop. And I was there when the man was shot and Jerome was killed. Now I’m looking into it.”

“You kill him?” said the man, with menace in his tone and tensed features. The rest of the group, taking their vibe from him, assumed that same angry posture. Pine could sense the mob mentality emerging just enough to make her situation grow increasingly untenable.

Pine said calmly, “No, I was trying to talk him into dropping the gun. Because he had a gun. I saw it. I’m not saying he did anything with it, but he had it. A Glock. His mother says Jerome never had a gun.”

“She’s right about that. Robot man ain’t never had no gun.”

The rest of the group chortled at this remark.

Pine nodded. “Right. He built robots. He was smart. He said he was going back to school last night to work on robots. Only that apparently didn’t happen. I’d like to understand what did happen. Did any of you see anything? Do you know where he might have gotten the gun?”

“Cops already got their story. They ain’t looking nowhere else.”

“Gang initiation, you mean?” said Pine. “Jerome’s mother told me that’s what the police said. You apparently don’t believe that.”

In a scoffing tone the man said, “’Cause it’s not true. Jerome ain’t in no gang.”

“But was a gang trying to get him to join?”

“Why would they?” said the man. “They got all the meat they need. And you got to look at things smart.”

“How do you mean?”

“Jerome was strong up here,” said the man, pointing to his head. “But with books and robots and shit like that. Thing is, gangs got all the sorts of smarts they need. Jerome ain’t smart that way. Not street way. So what they want is muscle, someone who’s tough and don’t give a shit, and brothers willing to carry a gun and do what needs doing with it. That’s not Jerome. No gang would want him. To them, he’s just a book punk they got no use for.” He grinned and added, “Shit, be like hiring Bill Gates to guard their stash, see what I mean?”

“Okay. Anything else you can tell me? Did any of you see Jerome last night? Did he text or phone any of you saying what he was going to do?”

The people in the group looked at one another. Finally, the youngest of them took a hesitant step forward. “He texted me last night.”

“What time and what did he say?”

The boy pulled out his phone. “Seven ten. He said he got something to do but he didn’t want to do it.”

“Did he say what that was?”

“No. I texted him back and asked him, but he said he can’t tell me. But he said he was worried ’cause it might go all bad.”

“That what might go all bad?”

“He didn’t say.”

She looked at the others. “No one else saw Jerome last night, or talked to him?”

No one said anything in response, though Pine did focus for a moment on a guy around sixteen who stood off to the side. He had been staring at her but then glanced down when she’d asked her question.

“Anybody have the name of someone I should talk to about this? A friend of Jerome’s? Someone he might have confided in?”

Again, no one said anything.

“Well, thanks for the information,” she said.

“Now what you gonna do with it?” snapped the man.

“Follow it to the truth. If Jerome did nothing wrong, then I’ll clear his name. For what that’s worth.”

“Sure you will,” said the man sarcastically. “Cops are cops. All stick together.”

“I’m more of a loner. I’m actually stationed out in Arizona. I’m usually the only cop around out there. I go my own way and sometimes, for better or worse, make my own rules.”