Night Fever by Diana Palmer Page A

was given to him. He’d seen dealers on TV shows test the stuff, but apparently in real life the quality was assured. The Harris boys didn’t seem bothered at all. Clay took the goods, nodded at the dealer, and walked back to where Son and his brother were waiting, his heart going like a drum, his breath almost gasping out of his throat. It was an incredible high, just overcoming his own fear and doing something dangerous for a change. His eyes sparkled as he reached the car.
    â€œOkay.” Son grinned. He took Clay by the shoulders and shook him. “Good man! Now you’re one of us.”
    â€œI am?” Clay asked, hesitating.
    â€œSure. You’re a dealer, just like us. And if you don’t cooperate, Bubba and I will swear that you’re the brains of the outfit and that you set up this deal.”
    â€œThe supplier knows better,” Clay argued.
    Son laughed. “He isn’t a supplier,” he said, studying his nails. “He’s one of Dad’s flunkies. Why do you think we didn’t test the stuff before you handed over the money?”
    â€œIf he’s just one of your father’s men…” Clay was trying to think it through.
    â€œThere was a surveillance unit across the street,” Son said easily. “They made you. They couldn’t pick you up because there wasn’t enough time to get a backup and they knew you’d run. But they’ve got a tape, and probably audio, and all they need is testimony from eyewitnesses to have an airtight case against you. You bought cocaine—a lot of cocaine. Dad’s flunky won’t mind doing the time, either, for what he’ll get paid. We can always buy him out later. You won’t get the same consideration, of course.”
    Clay stiffened. “I thought you trusted me!”
    â€œJust some insurance, pal,” Son assured him. “We want your little brother to do some scouting for us at the elementary school. If he cooperates, you don’t do time.”
    â€œMack said no. He already said no!” He was beginning to feel hysterical.
    â€œThen you’d better make him change his mind, hadn’t you?” Son said, and his small eyes narrowed dangerously. “Or you’re going to end up in stir for a long, long time.”
    And just that easily, they had him. He couldn’t know that the so-called surveillance people were just friends of the Harrises, not heat. Or that Francine was being persuaded to be nice to him to help keep him on the string. Yes, they had the poor fish doubly hooked, and he didn’t even know how caught he really was. Yet.

CHAPTER FIVE
    B ecky was trying to balance making photocopies for Maggie with typing a desperately needed brief for Nettie, one of the paralegals, and going out of her mind in the process. It had been a rough few days. Clay had been more belligerent than ever—withdrawn, moody, and openly antagonistic. Mack had been withdrawn, too, avoiding his brother and refusing to tell his sister why. It was worse than an armed camp. Granddad was living on her nerves. Becky was, too. She came to work vibrating, wishing she could just climb in the car, drive away, and never look back.
    â€œCan’t you hurry, Becky?” Nettie begged. “I’ve got to be in court at one, and it’s a forty-five-minute drive in lunch-hour traffic! I won’t get to eat as it is!”
    â€œI’m hurrying—really, I am,” Becky assured her, frowning as she tried to make her fingers work even faster.
    â€œI’ll do my own copies,” Maggie said, patting Becky’s shoulder as she walked by. “Just calm down, darlin’. You’re doing fine.”
    The sympathy almost brought tears to Becky’s eyes. Maggie was such a love. Becky gritted her teeth and put everything she had into it, finishing in good time to get Nettie off to court.
    â€œThanks!” Nettie called from the door, and grinned. “I