She pointed with the eraser end of a pencil, “A packet of oral syringes.”I nodded, “Junkies use them as suppositories — they inject in the rec...um.” I shivered, “Or vagina.”Sarah nodded and pointed to the center of the photograph, “Twenty-two plastique envelopes. White powder.”“Coke?”“No, it didn’t numb the tongue. But there was a faint vinegary smell.”I said, “A by-product of converting morphine to heroin?”“Yep.” A Southern drawl even with a one-syllable word.“What’d he cut it with? Vitamin B. Slowly melting away.Then it was so dark he could see nothing except the occasional yard light of a ranch house in the distance. He walked through the car down a corridor passing along beside the windows that became mirrors after dark. He watched himself slowly walking towards the dining car. He had vowed to never wash his cheek again. He still remembered the feeling of the kiss Becky had given to him.That long ago train trip had taken three days. They had arrived in Kansas City and then took. More

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