“Not really.”
“Once a week, twice a week?”
“Yeah, once a week, sometimes twice a week. Sometimes not at all.”
“You always buy?”
“No, most times when he'd come by, he'd set it out for me,” Porsche explained.
“Since you were on it pretty hard, he must have come with a lot.”
“I'd have to kick in sometimes, but most times, he'd come correct.”
“Both y'all buy from the same source?”
Porsche looked at Garrett, deciding whether it was time to say back off again. “No we didn't,” she answered deciding that finding Desireé's killer was more important than protecting her guy’s privacy.
“You know where he got his?”
“James Martin.”
“That's right; you did mention that he was a dealer, too.”
“No, James was a distributor,” Porsche corrected him. “He'd keep some around for personal consumption.”
“How come you didn't get yours from him?”
“I didn't need him knowing how much I was getting high. Even though he wasn't calling me that often, I still called myself working for him.”
“I guess Rasheed didn't care?”
“No, James would front Rasheed against jobs he did for him.”
“I thought you said that Martin didn't get a lot of female clients?”
“He didn't.”
“Then how was Rasheed coming so correct?”
“He told me that he owed James a lot of money. He didn't say how much.”
“When was this?”
“The week before it happened.”
“You know where I can find James Martin?”
“He's dead. About three months ago, he got shot when somebody tried to jack his car. Like I said, Mr. Mason, life is short, and it’s not promised to you.”
Carmen looked at Garrett and then at Marcus and back to Garrett. “You know what I wanna know?” Carmen asked.
“What's that, Carmen?” Garrett asked.
“Why is all this just coming out now?”
“I don't know, Porsche says she never talked to the police,” Garrett answered.
“When you were investigating, why didn't you talk to any of these people?” Carmen wanted to know.