THE BLACK PICKUP I'D LAST SEEN LEAVING ENO'S PARKING lot pulled up short at the opposite curb. It waited there, motor running. The Kliner kid leaned his head on his forearm and stared out of the window at me from across the street. Jeremiah didn't see him. He was looking down at the sidewalk.
"You should be thinking about Morrison," I said to him.
"What about him?" he said. "He's dead, right?"
"But dead how?" I said. "What should that be saying to you?"
He shrugged.
"Somebody making an example of him?" he said. "A message?"
"Correct, Jeremiah," I said. "But what had he done wrong?"
"Screwed something up, I guess," he said.
"Correct, Jeremiah," I said again. "He was told to cover up what went down at the warehouse Thursday night. That was his task for the day. He was up there at mid
