THE LINE through the disposable cell phone was marred with static as Darrel Marsh listened to it ringing on the other end.
“Greene’s taken care of, boss,” he said when the line opened up.
“Good. That’s very good. And no one saw?”
“No. I disabled the security cameras before I went in and shot him with enough warfarin to take down a man three times his size and made sure the cuts were deep. He bled out in no time at all.”
“Greene was a liability from the beginning. I should have learned not to let emotions guide business decisions. I will not make the same mistake again. I’m very pleased he’s no longer a problem, Darrel. You’ve done well.”
Darrel soaked in the praise as he crossed the street, away from his squad car toward the community center.
“Thank you, sir. I am glad to be of service.”
“Wonderful. I’m hoping you’re able to find me a few new boys before the end of the week. I have several new clients with… very particular tastes.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Is there anything specific I should be looking for?”
“Young” came the reply.
Darrel peered down the block as a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen, walked toward him. His clothes were soiled, and his hair was weeks past needing a trim. It was starting to rain, and the boy had no jacket. No one had taken care of this child in a long time. There were no parents waiting for him to return from school. No one would miss him if he just disappeared….
“Blond would work?” Darrel asked.
“Perfect.”
Darrel hung up the phone and squared his shoulders, making sure his badge was visible and level as he walked toward the boy.
“Do you need some help?”
“You can help me?” the boy asked, looking up at him with wide blue eyes and tentative hope etched in his innocent expression.
A slow smile spread across Darrel’s face. “Of course. Come with me.”