43
As Shea reached the top of the stairs outside Orphan’s condo, her eyes were drawn to the rust-colored stain on the concrete. Shea could still smell the scent of blood. A trail of drops led to the other end of the breezeway. Orphan whimpered and covered her mouth, a tear streaming down her left cheek.
“Come on, girl.” Shea put a hand on Orphan’s shoulder. “Let’s get inside.”
Orphan unlocked the door. Shea found herself gazing wide-eyed around at the condo. “So, this is the kinda crib dealing drugs gets ya, huh?”
Orphan didn’t respond.
“Sorry, guess that was uncalled for. So, where’s the stash?”
Orphan led Shea to her kitchen area, pulled a large Stouffer’s lasagna box from the freezer and set it on the table. She opened the cardboard flap and took out the foil container. “In here.”
