“ Thursday morning — 8:45 a.m. MT “Where’s Sam?” a young black man said as he walked into the Lipson Construction trailer. The young man’s anxious eyes scanned the ten by twenty-five foot room. “He’s meeting with Rodney,” Pete said. “I’m supposed to meet with them.” The young man looked Pete up and down. “Who are you?” “I’m Pete. I started as an Assistant Site Manager last week. I’m working on transportation.” The young man nodded. Pete went back to work. “Aren’t you going to ask me who I am?...” the young man asked. “You’re DeShawn Jones,” Pete said without looking up. “And how do you know that?” “You used to sell. I used to buy,” Pete said. “I knew you looked familiar,” DeShawn said. “You clean?” “Have you seen me around?” Pete asked. “I ain’t . . . ” DeShawn cleared his throat. “I’m not in that life anymore. I did my time and . . . I worked here with Rodney until about six months ago. Me and another guy, Jason Payne.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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