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“Isn't Ricky in the band?” Paulus asked me.
“Ricky Brown?”
Recognition flashed through his eyes and he nodded. “Yeah. I went to see the band play one night. Patrick invited me. At Belly Up in Solana Beach. Maybe a month or so ago? Can't remember the date.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Anyway, I caught up with them after their set,” he explained. “They were outside having a beer. Patrick introduced me to the other guys; there were a bunch of people back there. I don't even remember who I was talking to, but we'd been out there for a while and he came up to me. We were just talking and stuff and after a while, when it was just the two of us, me and Ricky, he asked if I had anything.”
“How'd he know you'd be the guy to ask?”
Paulus shrugged. “No clue. I assume Patrick told him that he bought from me or whatever. I really don't know. And at first, I thought he was asking for heroin, but he was clear he didn't want that. He just wanted shit to take the edge off.”
“The benzos.”
Paulus nodded. “Yeah. I actually wasn't sure if I had anything, so we walked to my car. He wasn't nervous or anything like that, so it really wasn't a big deal.” He bit his bottom lip for a second. “I don't remember exactly what I sold him, but I'm pretty sure it was Xanax. If I have anything, that's what I usually have, so that'd be my guess.”
“He buy a lot?”
He shook his head. “Think I sold him half a bottle? And I only charged him like forty bucks. He was Patrick's friend and all, and I like I said before, I don't much care about selling that kind of stuff.”
I nodded, thinking. It wasn't that unusual for anyone to buy Xanax illegally and it certainly wasn't frowned upon socially. I'd seen it passed around by adults like it was ibuprofen. The fact that you needed a prescription to obtain it didn't seem to cause people to blink. I remembered a doctor trying to prescribe me some after Elizabeth's abduction and I'd turned it down. Lauren made a joke some point later about how I should've taken it so I could sell it when I'd left the police force and make some extra cash.
“That was the only time?” I asked. “You never sold to him again?”
He shook his head. “I've never seen the guy again. I haven't been to any of their shows and like I said before, Patrick and I are friendly, but we don't hang out or anything like that.” He paused. “But I know I sold that bottle to him that night.”
Just because he'd sold pills to Ricky Brown didn't mean a whole lot. For all I knew, the entire band could have been using some sort of drug. Ruben had been forthcoming about using weed. Patrick could've easily borrowed or taken from Ricky, if he had a stash. It was the fact that no one else seemed to think Patrick was using anything other than heroin that was ringing the bell for me. The tox results were weird, and while I still wasn't sure that it ruled out suicide, I was finding myself with more questions than answers.
“Hey, I really do have some stuff I've gotta do,” Paulus said, glancing back at the front door. “Are we done?”
I nodded. “Think so.” I nodded at the house. “You should get your one friend looked at. Seriously. He took a pretty good shot to the head.”
“Okay,” Paulus said, stubbing the toe of his shoe against the ground. “Hey, is any of this gonna come back at me? The stuff I just told you?”
I pulled the keys from my pocket. “No idea. I don't think so. I've gotta talk to Patrick's uncle, but I appreciate you being honest with me. I'll keep your name out of it. He's not really interested in you. He just wants to know what happened to Patrick.”
He nodded for a moment and studied his shoes before looking up. “Patrick was a good guy. I'm sorry he's...” His voice trailed off.
“Me, too,” I said, heading for the car. “Me, too.”