“She was a foster kid, and never really had a family until we came along. Now it’s like her every second word is ‘family.’ If it were up to her, we’d all live in the same house together, forever.” Lana took some photos of the room.
There was a tap on the window. A man’s face appeared—graphite-colored hair shaped into a retro flat top. Lana yelped, and jumped backward, into Griffin. He caught her with both hands. “It’s okay, that’s Darnell—my buddy.”
Griffin opened the window. “The hell are you doing here?”
“You’re not answering your phone, so I came after you. But I’m not the only one.”
“Holy shitballs!” Stoner Two was standing in the hall, staring at the window. “That’s Darnell Lascelles!”
“Right, man,” Chase called, from the living room. “Makes total sense that Griffin HartandDarnell Lascelles would be in our shithole of a house. What are you on, literally?”
“Holy crap.” Lana planted her hands on her cheeks, staring at Darnell. “ThatisDarnell Lascelles.”
“I told you!” called Stoner Two. “Didn’t I tell you? From the old detective show.”
“Shut it a second, okay?” Griffin shouted. “I can’t hear.”
“There’s three men and a woman parked outside in a black SUV,” Darnell said. “Dressed in black, keeping their heads down, watching this place.”
“Crap.” Griffin turned to Lana. “We need to get out of here.”
“And the show’s not that old!” Darnell shouted to the stoners.
Chapter 11
Lana
For Lana, following Darnell Lascelles into the alley behind Vivien’s house with Griffin Hart behind her might be the most surreal part of this whole crazy experience.
“How did you find us?” Griffin asked, as Darnell unlocked a blue Lexus parked beside a chain-link fence.
“How does anyone find you? Where-Is-Griffin-Hart-dot-com. You got spotted at Will Rogers Beach and followed here. I figured if I was seeing this, these guys chasing you would be too.”
Griffin groaned, opening the front passenger door for Lana. “I didn’t see anyone.”
“Because you’re not trained to spot a tail.”
Griffin scoffed quietly.
Once they were in the car, Darnell offered Lana his hand. “Darnell,” he said. His hair was shorter than the afro he used to have, but his eyes were as sharp. Extra wrinkles just added to his aura.
“I know.” Lana shook his hand, feeling as starstruck as Sweetie.
“And you are?”
“Oh, sorry, I’m Lana!”
“You know who he is, but you hadn’t heard of me?” Griffin said from the back seat. Darnell started the engine and began to reverse.
“But he’s Darnell Lascelles!” she hissed, surreptitiously pointing at Darnell.
“I’m aware.”
“The poet!”
“The what?”
Darnell slammed on the brakes, jolting her backward. “You’ve read my poetry?”
