“Yeah. We have to figure out what is going on and who is responsible before someone else gets hurt.” He pulls me deeper to his side.
“You don’t have any ideas who it could be?” I wonder.
He shakes his head. His phone rings again, and I take a quick look at the number, but it’s not saved in his phone. “This is Case,” his deep voice declares. After a few seconds, he pulls away from me and stands from the couch.
I pick my legs up and sit Indian style on the couch as I watch him start to pace.
“You’re sure?” he asks, before running a hand through his hair. “But I …” He’s cut off.
I watch him pick up his speed and his face hardens. “Yes, I understand. Yes.” He nods his head to himself. “Thank you.” He pulls his phone away from his ear and throws it down to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly.
“Acetone.” I frown not knowing what he’s talking about. “Acetone was used to accelerate the fire.”
“Like acetone that us girls use to remove our fingernail polish?” I ask confused.
“It’s also used as a washing agent that makes cocaine pure,” he growls.
I fall back onto the couch and run a hand through my hair. “Could it have been those guys who attacked Blane the other night?”
He shakes his head. “There’s no way they knew where I lived. I’ve never had Blane over there until after I had to close down the club.”
“Maybe someone followed us,” I offer, but he doesn’t pay much attention.
He’s too busy pacing back and forth again. “I bought that house five years ago.” He begins to speak to himself.
“Have you ever had a girl over there before?” I ask softly. He just shakes his head. And I smile to myself. Well, one win for me. About time I win at something. “Get dressed,” he orders all of a sudden, bending down to pick up his phone.
I look down at my white cotton shorts and black tank top. “I am dressed.”
He snaps his fingers as he starts to walk to my front door. “Let’s go. We’re leaving.”
I jump up off the couch, run to my room, and grab my new cell and my purse as I slide on a pair of flip-flops. I don’t even bother to ask where we’re going as I run out the front door behind him.
He didn’t speak to me again while he drove down the road. He was on his phone the entire time with some guy he called Jones. I remember that name from the guy who was standing in his office when I came barreling into it the evening I got attacked. I also remember him telling someone that Jones had made that tape disappear from the night we went to see Rox. All I know is that Jones must be a good guy.
Even as he pulls up to a house, he continues to speak into his phone. I get out of his car and follow him. He just opens the door and lets himself in. I follow him a little slower as I take in the house.
It looks as if a woman decorated it. The walls are a light brown, and the modern kitchen has shades of yellows. If I didn't know Brecken, I would think he was secretly married; I may not know him all that well, but I do know he doesn’t have a wife.
I walk past the kitchen and into the living room. Miller, Brecken, and Case all sit deep in conversation. Case is no longer on his phone. I just stand here like an idiot listening to them.
“Acetone?” Brecken asks. “That can be purchased pretty much anywhere,” he adds.
Miller leans forward placing his elbows on his knees. “Do you have any idea how much acetone they would need to start a fire that size? I mean, they would need gallons.”
Case nods in agreement. “But if they use it on a daily basis for their cocaine…” He shrugs. “Then it wouldn’t be a problem. They would already have it on hand.”
“True.” Brecken agrees.
“So who do you know that prefers to snort cocaine over any other drug?” All heads turn to look up at me, and I shrink back in embarrassment. Why am I trying to help? I don’t really even know what they’re talking about.
“What did you say?” Brecken asks.
“I, uh …” I lick my lips nervously. “Well, Case once told me that everyone has a drug of choice.” I look at him, and he stares at me with an unreadable expression. It makes me even more nervous. I should have kept my mouth shut. “If they would have had to have that much acetone already on hand … Who do you know would want to hurt Case and their drug of choice is cocaine?” I finish on a shaky breath.
Case finally smiles at me. “That’s a good way to look at it,” Miller says. “But we deal with people who sell it, not just use it. So you think it could be someone who prefers that drug when it could be someone who just sells a shit ton of it to their addicts.” Two sentences. It only took two sentences for him to crush my idea.
