Page 44 of Fish in a Barrel

Ellery nodded. “Scary job.”

Cody nodded back. “Yessir, it is.”

“Did you know you were going to be at the park that day?”

Cody’s eyes sharpened, and some of the wariness disappeared. It was like suddenly he knew where Ellery was going with this and could help him along.

“No, sir, I did not. I’d had plans to be in another part of the city that day, out in Citrus Heights, but that morning Officer Goslar called my supervisor and said he’d gotten a tip. Asked if I could show up at Harmony Park instead.”

“Was this unusual?”

Cody grimaced. “It was. Citrus Heights has its own police department, and I was part of a sting operation. They’d asked for my help specifically and had a whole bunch of people lined up. When I told my supervisor, he said he’d call them and tell them it wasn’t my fault, but I still didn’t like disappointing them like that. It’s frickin’ rude, is what it is.”

Ellery chuckled, and so did the courtroom. Jackson was starting to see that Cody Gabriel could be charming and personable—and what a crime it had been to drive him onto the streets as he had been.

“So what happened when you showed up at Harmony Park?”

Another grimace, this one tinged with bitterness. “Then Goslar called out to me in the middle of the park, threatening to blow my cover because he’s an asshole and doesn’t care who he hurts.”

“Objection,” Arizona called, and she sounded relieved to have something real to object to.

“Sustained,” said Judge Brentwood. “Mr. Gabriel, please confine your remarks to the matter at hand and keep the editorial to yourself.”

“Sure, Your Honor. Have had a lot of practice doing that.”

“Mr. Gabriel—”

“I said I would.”

Gabriel glared at the judge with unfriendly eyes, and Ellery started again.

“So he called out to you, and what did he tell you then?”

“He said he had it on good authority I’d been… well, his exact words were ‘tasting the candy.’ It means sampling the product I was supposed to be taking off the streets.” Cody Gabriel looked grim.

“Had you been?” Ellery asked. Jackson had warned Cody these questions were coming—better from Ellery than from Arizona Brooks.

“Indeed, sir, I had,” Cody said, his face hard. “I’d been under for a long time. You’re told to fake it undercover. Inject saline instead of heroin. Don’t snort anything ’cause it’s all bad. There’s even a special oil to put on your fake pot to make it smell like real pot. But in real life, you can’t do that. If the people you’re buying from suspect you’re a cop, it’s bad news all around—and not just for you. The people who introduced you to the buyer—the low-level dealer trying to feed his family, or feed his habit even—he’s at risk. The next guy up who trusted the first guy’s word. He’s at risk. Everybody who ever gave you a tip or sold you a dime bag is at risk for a cold metal enema, and I know people in this courthouse probably think good riddance, but they’re people, all of them, and I don’t want that much blood on my hands.”

“So you were using?” Ellery prompted before Arizona could object.

“Yessir. I was.”

“Were you an addict?”

Cody sucked in a breath and chewed on his lower lip, truly thoughtful. “Nossir. I was… well, I was likely heading that way, but I can honestly say that on that day, at that time, I was planning to cash in my undercover chip and stop. I’d already sent in the email to my supervisor, had already talked to my union rep. There’s a moment, I think, in that life, when you can walk away. I was right there when Goslar had me meet him at the park.”

“What did Goslar want from you?” Ellery asked.

“Well, sir, in his own words, he wanted me to ‘be an asshole and piss people off.’”

Ellery paused and looked at Arizona, who waved him on.

“Did he tell you what he meant by this?”

“He said he’d leave it up to my imagination.” Gabriel sent a fulminating glare in Goslar’s direction.

“Did he tell you why you were doing it?” Ellery asked.