“Really? What did he trade?” “Anything and to anyone. He had cocaine coming in from the Colombians, guns going out to the Russians. Nothing was off-limits.” I shake my head. Not a chance. The thing about living in a small town is that you grow up knowing everyone and their mamas. I know lots of the port workers—Bill, my dad’s best friend, Old Riley who married Wren’s mom—and they’d never get involved with something illegal like that. No, the only thing coming in and out of Devil’s Dip port are crayfish and canned food.
