Page 46 of Fish in a Barrel

“They took me to the hospital to get checked out, and the doctors supervised a dose of methadone. I’m high, yes, but functional. It’s just enough to get me through until the end of today, when I’m going to rehab. I… I’ve been on the streets for a month. I’m an addict now, hard-core. I’m going to need a whole lot of help to kick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ellery said,soundingsorry. “But I’m so glad you got brought in from the cold.”

“Yeah,” Cody said, choked. “Me too.”

Ellery took a deep breath. “I’m done with this witness, Your Honor. Ms. Brooks, he’s all yours.”

Arizona stood, her face composed into a hard mask. Then she shifted her feet and said, “Bailiff, counsel promised this man a drink of water. Can we get him some? This is rough going.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The bailiff disappeared, and she turned to Cody Gabriel. “I appreciate what it took to get you here,” she said. “But I need to ask—why? Why did you come in? You were on the streets for a month. I assume you were high?”

“As kites and satellites, ma’am,” Cody said frankly.

Arizona smiled slightly. “Why come down?”

“Because I didn’t want to be there for one thing,” Cody told her. “I was cold, I was hungry, I was tired of being alone. I… the whole reason, I think, that I stayed there, by the police station, was that I was hoping my unit—mybrothers—would come get me. I was hoping they’d see me and help me out.” He snorted bitterly. “Apparently once I was used up, they didn’t really give a damn, did they?”

“How do you know they saw you?” Arizona asked curiously.

“Because I saw them look away. Yeah, you, Goslar and McMurphy. You couldn’t look me in the fuckin’ eye—”

Brentwood banged his gavel. “The witness will refrain from talking to the witnesses for the prosecution.”

“Sorry, sir,” Cody said, his voice laced with contempt. Brentwood didn’t call him on it, though—perhaps he didn’t hear. Or perhaps he agreed.

“So you saw them looking at you, and they didn’t help.” Arizona looked at Brentwood and shook her head.

“Was there a question there, Counselor?” the judge asked acidly.

“Oh, there will be,” she said—but her anger wasn’t directed at Cody Gabriel. “So Mr. Rivers talked you into coming in. Did that happen right away?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Whatdidhappen right away?”

Cody grimaced. “Well, your four buddies over there rounded up all the single men and some of the women on the block, made them abandon their possessions, including their tents, fed them drugged food, shoved them on a bus, and shipped us off to Redding.”

Arizona’s eyes could not have gotten any bigger. “Redding?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She turned toward her witnesses. “Redding?”

They glared stonily back.

“What in the hell were you doing in Redding?” she asked Cody, and although Arizona was one of the most cold-blooded prosecutors in the city, this sounded almost more like an excited utterance than a question.

“Well, they took us to Lake Whiskeytown, and given that there was a fairly entrenched encampment there, it looked like the whole purpose was to get rid of us.”

“But… but that’sillegal!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not arguing with you, ma’am,” Cody replied. “And so’s drugging people so they won’t tell you that they don’t want to go.”

“How do you know they drugged them?”

“Because eating that hamburger was the only thing that kept me from going into withdrawal during the damned trip,” Cody retorted, and Arizona blinked and stepped back, breathing hard.