”But he was getting drugs from Tad at some point in the past,” I said.
“Look, I don’t really want to throw anyone under the bus.”
“Well, your friend’s in the ground, and I’m starting to think somebody put him there.”
Holden’s face tightened. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Yeah, he used to buy from Tad. But like I said, I haven’t really hung out with him recently.” Then he added, “You didn’t hear that from me.”
“When was the last time you saw Tad?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a few months ago at a club.”
“Which club?”
“Prohibition, I think. I’m not totally sure on that.”
“You know Wesley’s therapist was killed, too?”
His brow lifted with surprise. “No shit?”
I nodded.
“That’s kind of freaky.”
“I think the two deaths are connected. If that’s the case, whoever killed Wesley would have to know him pretty well.”
Holder’s brow wrinkled. “Why do you say that?”
“How else would they know Wes was seeing Dr. Renick?”
“You think the killer was one of his friends?”
I shrugged.
Holden considered it, then dismissed the notion. “That’s kind of a stretch, don’t you think? I mean, that’s too crazy.”
“I’ll admit, I’m grasping at straws here. This is all theory and speculation.”
“Don’t overthink it, bro. The simplest explanation is often the correct one. Dude got a hold of some bad shit. His therapist got mugged.”
“Eh, you’re probably right.” Then I asked, “How did you know she got mugged?”
30
“Iheard something about some doctor getting shot and mugged yesterday,” Holden said casually. “I figured it had to be the same person.”
I dug into my pocket and handed him a card. “Listen, get in touch if you think of anything.”
“I will.” He sighed. “I don’t know what’s worse. Wes doing this to himself, or someone doing it to him. Either way, it sucks. That guy had so much potential. He was the smartest out of all of us.” Holden shook his head in dismay, then excused himself.
JD and I mixed and mingled. I talked to Ian. “I hear you helped out Wes with some legal troubles.”
Ian had a square jaw, piercing eyes, and wavy dark hair. He looked like he could have been a TV heartthrob. Dressed to perfection in a DiFiore suit and silk tie, he had a fashionable sense.
Ian dismissed it. “Nothing major. Stuff that could happen to any of us on a bad day.” Then he added, “I don’t drink and drive ordo drugs, but I’m just saying. A few glasses of wine at dinner can put you over the limit.”
“How often were you in contact with him?”
Ian shook his head again. “Not often. Not as much as I should have been. We all kind of backed away when he was going through the worst of it. That’s when we should have stepped up the most.” He frowned, and sadness filled his eyes. “I should have been there for him.” He took a deep breath and held back the tears as his eyes misted. “But what can you do when someone is hellbent on destroying themselves?”
