Page 55 of Don't Say a Word

“I haven’t read the entire report yet. I focused on the teenagers who were part of Bradford’s operation.”

Rick scowled. “That’s what really pisses me off. There’s a lot of kids who would do nearly anything for money, kids who have miserable home lives. And to have a teacher—acoach, someone ina position of authority recruit them into selling drugs? He didn’t get enough time as far as I’m concerned. At least he’ll never be allowed to work with kids again.”

“Was there anything else that you found interesting?”

Rick thought. “I don’t remember most of the details, but one thing really bugged me, I never forgot it. Their kids were there when the warrant was served. Bradford was in jail—he’d just been arrested. Cecilia Bradford sat with the kids on the back patio throughout the entire search. I told her she could leave, or take the kids to a neighbor’s house, but she said she wanted to watch us destroy her life. That’s exactly what she said, in front of the kids. I hope the kids are okay.”

“According to the court records, they’re living with their grandparents in South Dakota.”

“What mother doesn’t plead to avoid jail time?” Rick said. “She had a three-year-old. All she had to do was give up their supplier and she would have gotten probation, never had to lose years with her kids. That’s what I have a hard time wrapping my head around. I know parents who don’t give a shit about their kids, but that wasn’t the Bradfords. Everything I saw said they loved and cared for their children.”

“Fear?” I suggested. “Maybe loyalty.”

“To a drug supplier?”

“Fear,” I repeated.

People always had a reason for their actions. The reason might be bullshit or stupid or completely selfish, but there was a reason why Cecilia Bradford hadn’t ratted out her supplier. It could be fear—fear that her husband would be killed in prison, or that she would be on the run the rest of her life.

Or it could be calculation. She’d been given six years. Maybe that didn’t seem too much to give in order to gain more at the end.

Maybe she’d been bribed. Threatened. Both.

Whatever it was, whatever she did, it reeked of selfishness. Too often people didn’t consider that their actions had serious ramifications for others—even their own family.

“Earth to Margo,” Rick said.

“Just thinking about choices.”

“You think there’s something going on at the school like the Bradford operation?” he asked.

I didn’t commit. “Maybe, but I have a few other leads. No one involved with the Bradford drug scam is still on campus. I just wanted to understand the operation so that if I see something similar, I’d recognize it. But, to change the subject, what’s crime like around Cactus Stop locations?”

He chuckled. “Big change of subject.”

“I’m curious. I like the location near my house, it’s clean and the employees are nice. I’ve never seen overt drug dealing, homeless encampments. I’ve never felt unsafe.”

“You pack a gun and a knife,” he said with a smirk.

“So do you,” I countered. “So my local Cactus Stop seems fine, but the location off Nineteenth and Camelback has had repeat problems. I’m curious about the other locations.”

“Hit or miss. Most have decent security. There’s only one store in the 900, and we’ll get calls for service for loitering, trespassing, I think a robbery once this year, though they didn’t get much. The managers do a good job keeping the facilities clean and the owner is willing to trespass the homeless so they don’t camp out on the property or panhandle customers.”

“What do you know about EBT fraud?”

“Why?”

“Curious.”

He raised his eyebrows and waited for a better answer. Clearly he knew me well.

I told him about Elijah’s overdose and the subsequent murder at Sun Valley High School.

“Now I’m confused. What does any of that have to do with the Bradfords or EBT fraud?”

“Probably nothing. Though the EBT fraud might—Elijah worked at the Cactus Stop on Hatcher. I checked it out and saw people going in, using an EBT card, leaving without a bag. Couldhave pocketed something, but at least two people didn’t. So it had me a bit suspicious.”

“You’re thinking maybe his death wasn’t an overdose?”