The Racketeer

hour. We delve into his sketchy employment history—bosses, co-workers, duties, wages, dismissals. Back to the drug trade with details about how to cook meth, who taught him, key ingredients, and so on. Romances, girlfriends? He claims to have impregnated a young cousin when he was twenty, but has no idea what happened to the mother or child. He had a serious girl before he went to prison, but she forgot about him. Judging by the way he looks at Gwen, it’s obvious this boy is wired.
    He’s thirty years old, and other than the death of his brother and a prison sentence his life has been unremarkable. After three hours of prodding and poking, I extract anything and everything of interest. He says he needs to get to work.
    “We have to visit the place where Gene was killed,” I say as Slade turns off the camera and everybody relaxes.
    “It’s outside of Bluefield, about an hour from here,” he says.
    “Bluefield, West Virginia?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And why were you there?”
    “We were making a delivery, but the buyer was an informant.”
    “I have to see this, Nathan, to walk through it all, to recapture the scene, the violence, the moment, the place where Gene was shot and killed. It was at night, right?”
    “Yeah, long after midnight.” Gwen is tapping his face with a cloth, removing the makeup. “You’re really good on camera,” she says softly, and he smiles.
    “When can we go there?” I ask.
    He shrugs and says, “Whenever. Tomorrow if you want.”
    Perfect. We agree to meet at his house at 9:00 a.m. and caravan through the mountains into West Virginia, to the remote, abandoned mine site where the Cooley brothers walked into a trap.

    We’ve had a good day with Nathan. He and I got on well as filmmaker and actor, and at times he and Gwen seemed ready to strip and have a go. Late in the afternoon, she and I find our way to Bombay’s on Main Street in Radford, next to the college campus, and take a table by the dartboard. It’s far too early for the college crowd, though a few rowdies are at the bar enjoying happy-hour discounts. I ask the waitress to inform Nathan Cooley that we are having a drink, and within seconds he appears with a big smile. We invite him to have a seat, which he does, and we start downing beers. Gwen drinks little and manages to sip on a glass of wine while Nathan and I knock back a few pints.Coeds straggle in and the place gets louder. I ask about specials, and there’s an oyster po’boy on the chalkboard. We order two and Nathan disappears to yell at the cook. We have dinner and stay until after dark. Not only are we the only blacks in the bar, but we are also the only patrons over the age of twenty-two. Nathan stops by occasionally to check on us, but he’s a busy man.

CHAPTER 31
    A t nine the following morning we return to Nathan’s house, and once again he’s in the front yard playing with his dog, waiting. I am assuming he meets us outside because he doesn’t want us inside. I explain that my little Audi is in bad need of service, and it might be best if we could ride over in his pickup. An hour each way will give us two hours alone with Nathan and no distractions. He shrugs and says okay, whatever, and away we go, with Slade and Cody following in their van. I’m in the front seat; Gwen is folded into the backseat of the club cab. She’s wearing jeans today because Nathan couldn’t keep his eyes off her legs yesterday. She will be a bit more aloof, just to keep him guessing.
    As we head west toward the mountains, I admire the interior of the truck and explain that I’ve never spent much time in such vehicles. The seats are leather, there is an advanced GPS system, and so on. Nathan is really proud of the truck and chatters on about it.
    To change the subject, I bring up his mother and claim to really want to meet her. Nathan says, “Look, Reed, you’re welcome to try, but she doesn’t like what we’re doing. I talked to her last night again, and I explained the whole project, and how important it is, and how much you need her, but I got nowhere.”
    “Can’t we at least talk, say hello, you know?” I almost turnand smile at Gwen now that we know Nathan deems the project “important.”
    “I doubt it. She’s a tough woman, Reed. Drinks a lot, nasty temper. We’re not on good terms right now.”
    Being the pushy investigative journalist, I decide to plow into sensitive matters. “Is it because you’ve gotten away from the family