at the dresser. “Why else does a college kid build up an armory in his bedroom?”
“Maybe he’s afraid of something,” Carter said, still perusing the drawers. “Or maybe he’s got something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“Like?”
“Well nothing goes with guns as good as money does.”
“But why?” I said, still not sure. “What the hell was this kid into?”
He shrugged.
“I can tell you,” a voice said from behind us.
Carter and I froze and then turned slowly around.
Dana stood in the doorway, the dreadlocks on her head sticking out in awkward angles, the gun in her hands pointed squarely in our direction.
Fourteen
Dana motioned for both of us to sit on the bed. She wore a tight camouflage tank top and cargo pants cut off at the knees. The small silver rings were still in her eyebrow and lower lip. With the gun, she looked like some sort of Rastafarian commando.
“I thought you were an investigator,” she said, looking at me, her green eyes flashing.
“I am.”
“Investigators don’t break and enter.”
I nodded at Carter. “He did that.”
Carter smiled at her. “I like to show off how strong I am.”
She looked him over the way she had checked me out the first time she met me. She nodded approvingly. “You do have muscles.”
“And in all the right places,” he said, the smile getting bigger.
“That remains to be seen,” she said. She looked at me. “So why are you back?”
“Because I haven’t found Linc.”
“Did you think he was in the dresser?” She focused on my face a little harder. “And who knocked the shit out of you?”
I took a deep breath, tired of the questions about my appearance. “Dana, look. I have no idea what’s going on with Linc. I know he’s not here and your roommate ended up in the hospital. I’m just trying to piece all of this together.”
The corners of her mouth twitched down and she shifted her gaze to Carter, then back to me. “Do you know anything about what happened to Rachel?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know if it’s all tied together or what. Like I said, I’m just trying to unscramble all of it.”
Her shoulders lost some of their carriage. “I went to see Rachel yesterday. She looks terrible.”
I remembered sitting with Rachel and couldn’t disagree.
Dana’s arms dropped to her sides. She glanced down at the gun in her hand, as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. She tossed it toward me, but Carter reached out and snatched it in midair.
“It’s not loaded,” she said, sinking down to the floor and resting her back against the wall. “I think it goes in the top drawer.”
“You got it from Linc?” I asked.
“Yeah. Gave it to me about a month ago.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and pulled on one of her dreads. “Not sure. He came over and said we might want to keep it. Just in case.”
“In case of what?” Carter asked.
“He said the people he was working with could be a little freaky and if they ever came to bother us, I could flash it at them and scare them away.”
“People he was working with,” I said. “Who exactly were they?”
“Don’t know.” She shook her head. “He constantly had people in here, though.”
“Gangs?”
She nodded. “A lot of those guys. I think it started because one of them used to live here.”
“Deacon Moreno?”
She looked surprised. “Yeah. Linc started hooking up with him and it just grew.”
“What grew?” I asked.
“Whatever he was doing,” she said. “I think he was buying and selling the guns.”
“You know that for sure?”
“I heard bits and pieces,” Dana said. “Pretty sure that’s what was going on.”
“Where was he getting the guns?” Carter asked.
“No clue.”
“Did Rachel know about the guns?” I asked.
Her face sagged a little at the mention of her friend. “Well, yeah. I mean, everyone kind of knew. It was hard not to know. But it’s not like any of us talked about it. But because she and Linc were…whatever…yeah, she knew what was going on.”
“Did she have any part in it?”
Dana tugged harder on the dreads. “No. No way. I love Rachel, but she’s totally naive, you know?
“Did you have any part in it?” Carter asked, turning the gun over in his hands.
She leveled her eyes at him. “No. I knew what was going on. That was it. Got it?”
Carter smiled. “Got it.”
I tried to imagine my neighbors in college trading guns as some sort of part-time job, but I couldn’t make it work.
“Dana,” I said, thinking about what Mike Berkley had told me. “You ever see any skinheads come in here?”
She thought about it, then shook her head slowly. “Not that I can remember. Mostly gang guys, some white drug-dealer kids. That’s about it.”
Carter looked at me. “So if the guns were here and the bangers were here…”
“Then the bangers were buying and the skinheads were supplying,” I said, finishing his thought.
“And none of this tells us where old Linc might be,” Carter said.
“You have any ideas?” I asked Dana.
“No,” she said. “It’s like he vanished.”
“He ever have money trouble?” I asked, looking around the room.
“No,” Dana said, pushing off the floor and standing up. “He always seemed fine. I guessed it was from the guns.”
“Did you ever meet his brother?” I asked.
Her eyes widened slightly. “Didn’t even know he had one.”
I looked at Carter. “The more I look, the less I find.”
“You are wicked good at this detective stuff.” Carter shrugged as he handed me the gun. “Guy doesn’t wanna be found.” He paused for a moment. “And if your client is no longer looking for him, then maybe it’s time to give it a rest.”
I knew he was referring to Peter’s death. Everything was simple arithmetic for Carter. Two plus two equaled four. If Peter was dead, he couldn’t pay me. Why waste my time? Carter wasn’t completely wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Like it or not, I was now involved. Lonnie and Mo had seen to that. Dumping the case wasn’t going to remove me from whatever I’d stepped into.
And it wouldn’t keep me from looking over my shoulder for my skinhead friends.
I placed the gun back in the top drawer and closed the dresser.
