CHAPTER 7
AN UNSCHEDULED VISITHouston, Texas
I spent most nights worrying about one thing or another, and I had plenty to worry about. Ron’s drug problem was a continuous concern, and what I’d done that night with the undercover cop bothered me. But the big one, the one I couldn’t shake off, was Rico. The look in his eyes when I shot him. Even worse than that was seeing his wife and kids at the funeral.
I had gone to the cemetery that day and pretended to be visiting another grave while I watched them bury Rico. I went to gloat at the big bad drug dealer being put six feet under. But then I saw his wife, looking so pitiful in her black dress with the black veil across her face. Her hands rested on the shoulders of two young boys, maybe 8 or 10 years old. I couldn’t see their tears, or
