One Dead Lawyer Read Online Free PDF Page B

said, “Yeah I think I do have allergies. I’m allergic to old men trippin’.”
    His mother quickly intervened. “Boy, watch your mouth! Mr. Price might be nice enough to help you.”
    The boy and his mama were almost dressed the same.
    Each had on a terry cloth sweatsuit . His was a gold Sean John; I had a black one at home just like it. Daphne’s was gold too, but it wasn’t one of Puffy’s.
    She had the widest hair rollers under her flowered head-scarf I had ever seen. They were about four inches in diameter. It only took eight to roll up her whole head.
    â€œI don’t need his help.” His droopy red eyes traveled from me to his mama.
    â€œOh, no?” she asked. “I can’t help, and you won’t go to the police. So who is supposed to stop those wannabe gangsters from hurting you?”
    â€œI told you, Ma, just give me the money and it will all work out.”
    â€œBoy, I’m not paying any young hooligans five thousand dollars!”
    â€œIt’s only money, Ma.”
    At that statement I laughed out loud but his mother’s reply was priceless.
    â€œIt’s only money! Boy, my money and the word ‘only’ don’t go together.”
    I was tired and had heard enough. There was no fear or worry in the boy’s face or in his words. The spoiled brat was playing his mother for money. I didn’t have the patience for his games.
    â€œIf my help is not needed, I’m going home.”
    â€œSee ya,” the kid said and shot me a half grin.
    That pissed me off. If he would have just sat there and let me leave I wouldn’t have screwed up his little scam, because Daphne was Regina’s friend, and all associated with Regina could have kissed my ass.
    His mother kicked him hard in his shin and said, “Boy, shut your silly mouth.” She looked like she wanted to slap him but thought better of it.
    â€œDavid, I don’t know what you can do to help if anything. I found some drugs in a sandwich bag in his room. I told him I flushed them down the toilet and now I find out he was given the drugs on consignment. Five thousand dollars is what he has to come up with.”
    â€œWhat? Five thousand dollars and you said the drugs were in a sandwich bag?” I shot the boy my own half grin. He looked away.
    â€œYes, in a sandwich bag.”
    â€œI don’t know of any street drug that could fit into a sandwich bag and be worth five grand.”
    â€œThat’s because you too old to be up on thangs and you can’t help. Ma this is . . .” The boy tried to stand, but Daphne’s hand was in his stomach and she directed him back to the sofa.
    I ignored his words and asked, “Was it pills?”
    â€œNo, it looks like pottery chips or something. Here.” She pulled the sandwich bag from inside her blouse.
    The boy’s mouth dropped open and damn near hit the floor.
    â€œMa, you said you flushed it down the toilet.”
    â€œBoy, shut up.”
    It was crack cocaine, and not even an eighth of an ounce. I was right. The kid was scamming his own mama. I wanted to leave, go home and lick my Regina-inflicted wounds, and then find myself a good lawyer. I didn’t want a new case, especially a case that would help one of Regina’s friends, but at one time I’d liked the boy. I took the bag of cocaine from Daphne’s hand.
    â€œThis isn’t two hundred dollars worth of crack cocaine. Stanley is lying to you.”
    My brother, Robert, is addicted to crack. I know the dollar value of it by sight. I have bought him enough eight balls, one eighth of an ounce to know one when I see one. The question I asked myself was why.
    Why would the boy lie to his mother? Daphne had always given him more than he needed, and despite his flip mouth, at one time I knew him to love his mama.
    â€œThat’s not five thousand dollars worth of narcotics?”
    â€œNo. It’s not two hundred