Read Online Friday Edition, The by Betta Ferrendelli - Free Book Online
Authors: Betta Ferrendelli
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breed prefers to smoke or snort it. Doing a line of coke or a rock of crack you get a high that lasts maybe thirty minutes. With meth, the high goes on for hours. Plus it’s relatively cheap.”
“Some bang,” she said rolling her eyes.
Jonathan nodded. His thoughts were occupied by his search in the file cabinet. They were silent as he looked for a document. “Here it is,” he said and pulled a file from the drawer and returned to his chair.
She watched as he opened the manila folder and spread the contents on the desk. He unfolded a chart.
“Look here,” he said looking from the chart to Sam. “Here’s why Denver is such a boom for drug dealers.”
She leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the table to examine the chart. Numbers across the top covered a six-year timeline. At the left, under the word, ‘Substance,’ a vertical column listed various drugs of choice. Heroin. Other opiates. Methamphetamine. Cocaine. Marijuana. Barbiturates. Sedatives. Tranquilizers. Hallucinogens. PCP. “Interesting,” she said, still scanning the chart.
After further examination, she saw that heroin, cocaine and marijuana garnered the highest percentage of drug use. Each never fluctuated more than two or three percentage points in a given year. And though methamphetamine didn’t have nearly the same percentage of users as heroin and cocaine, its numbers had increased steadily over the six-year period.
“What’s this report based on?” she asked.
“A number of things,” he said. “Hospital emergency room cases, admission to drug rehab programs, interviews with drug users and drug arrests.”
Jonathan stopped to study the chart with Sam. “You can see here that although heroin has actually declined in use from the past six years, it’s still a major concern for us.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
Jonathan leaned back in his chair, folded his hands and rested them on top of his head. “We’re seeing a lot more black-tar type heroin, smuggled from Mexico, these days. It’s much more powerful than the heroin that was popular in 1960s.”
“Are you seeing more overdoses?” she asked.
He nodded. “The Mexican stuff is more pure than Colombia’s.”
He gave her more time to study the chart, then took it and began to refold it. “Anything else you’d like to know?” he asked returning the chart to the manila folder.
“Nothing, I guess,” she said and rested against her chair and sighed heavily. “Thanks for the info.”
He smiled slightly, and returned the folder to the filing cabinet. He turned to face her. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“To work.”
“There’s something I want to show you before you leave,” Jonathan said.
Sam noticed that his voice changed pitch and was surprised when he touched her shoulder as he passed her on the way to his desk.
“Actually you beat me to the punch,” he said.
She looked at him, her brow furrowed.
“I was coming to see you this afternoon.”
“Me? How come?”
“I have something I want to show you. It’s important for you to see this. Maybe you’ll realize something, accept it and then start to get on with your life.”
“Realize what?” she asked.
Her eyes widened and she felt her heart pick up pace. Sam watched as Jonathan returned to his desk and removed a single sheet of white paper from a center desk drawer. “It’s addressed to you,” he said.
Sam knew what it was. “Judie said you would show it to me. It’s not something I’m really ready to read yet, Jonathan.”
He slid the paper across the desk in her direction.
“You’ll have to at some point,” he said.
She picked up the paper slowly, reading as she brought it closer to her. She could see that the ink from some of the words on the page was smeared, as if Robin had been crying as she wrote the letter to Sam.
Dear Sammie,
I never wanted to become a burden. Since you're reading this now, a burden is exactly what I've become. I am sorry.
Please don't
“Some bang,” she said rolling her eyes.
Jonathan nodded. His thoughts were occupied by his search in the file cabinet. They were silent as he looked for a document. “Here it is,” he said and pulled a file from the drawer and returned to his chair.
She watched as he opened the manila folder and spread the contents on the desk. He unfolded a chart.
“Look here,” he said looking from the chart to Sam. “Here’s why Denver is such a boom for drug dealers.”
She leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on the table to examine the chart. Numbers across the top covered a six-year timeline. At the left, under the word, ‘Substance,’ a vertical column listed various drugs of choice. Heroin. Other opiates. Methamphetamine. Cocaine. Marijuana. Barbiturates. Sedatives. Tranquilizers. Hallucinogens. PCP. “Interesting,” she said, still scanning the chart.
After further examination, she saw that heroin, cocaine and marijuana garnered the highest percentage of drug use. Each never fluctuated more than two or three percentage points in a given year. And though methamphetamine didn’t have nearly the same percentage of users as heroin and cocaine, its numbers had increased steadily over the six-year period.
“What’s this report based on?” she asked.
“A number of things,” he said. “Hospital emergency room cases, admission to drug rehab programs, interviews with drug users and drug arrests.”
Jonathan stopped to study the chart with Sam. “You can see here that although heroin has actually declined in use from the past six years, it’s still a major concern for us.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
Jonathan leaned back in his chair, folded his hands and rested them on top of his head. “We’re seeing a lot more black-tar type heroin, smuggled from Mexico, these days. It’s much more powerful than the heroin that was popular in 1960s.”
“Are you seeing more overdoses?” she asked.
He nodded. “The Mexican stuff is more pure than Colombia’s.”
He gave her more time to study the chart, then took it and began to refold it. “Anything else you’d like to know?” he asked returning the chart to the manila folder.
“Nothing, I guess,” she said and rested against her chair and sighed heavily. “Thanks for the info.”
He smiled slightly, and returned the folder to the filing cabinet. He turned to face her. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“To work.”
“There’s something I want to show you before you leave,” Jonathan said.
Sam noticed that his voice changed pitch and was surprised when he touched her shoulder as he passed her on the way to his desk.
“Actually you beat me to the punch,” he said.
She looked at him, her brow furrowed.
“I was coming to see you this afternoon.”
“Me? How come?”
“I have something I want to show you. It’s important for you to see this. Maybe you’ll realize something, accept it and then start to get on with your life.”
“Realize what?” she asked.
Her eyes widened and she felt her heart pick up pace. Sam watched as Jonathan returned to his desk and removed a single sheet of white paper from a center desk drawer. “It’s addressed to you,” he said.
Sam knew what it was. “Judie said you would show it to me. It’s not something I’m really ready to read yet, Jonathan.”
He slid the paper across the desk in her direction.
“You’ll have to at some point,” he said.
She picked up the paper slowly, reading as she brought it closer to her. She could see that the ink from some of the words on the page was smeared, as if Robin had been crying as she wrote the letter to Sam.
Dear Sammie,
I never wanted to become a burden. Since you're reading this now, a burden is exactly what I've become. I am sorry.
Please don't
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