“Not yet. Elusive little fella.”
“You have an address?”
“A bad one. And if I had a good one, I wouldn’t give it to you. You’re a bit too close to all this, Noah.”
He was right. Having Keene’s address would probably be too much temptation for me.
“That’s fine. I just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks. Get me the names of your neighbors. ASAP.”
I told him I would and hung up.
A cannon of thunder boomed outside. The thrashing ocean looked like a giant bathtub beneath the storm. It should have been a great time to hit the water.
Stupid rain.
FORTY-SIX
Ringing.
In the distance.
I forced my eyes open. I’d fallen asleep on the sofa. And the phone was ringing.
I scrambled around in the dark living room and found the phone on the dining room table. “Hello?”
“Well, I decided I’m not the patient type,” Landon Keene said.
The fogginess from sleep lifted immediately, and I gripped the phone tighter.
“Kid, you listening?” he said.
“Fuck you.”
“Good, good,” he said. “Like I said, I’m not good with patience. Decided I couldn’t leave it to you to make the right decision. Know what I mean?”
My fingers tingled. “No.”
“You seem a little stubborn. Just like your old man. Couldn’t risk that you’d do something dumb. Like repeating what he told you.”
“You better run, asshole,” I said. “I’ve already told the cops about your operation. They’re coming for you. And I hope they have to shoot you to catch you.”
“That right?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Guess I made the right decision then.”
My skin went cold and I couldn’t find any words.
The line buzzed. The room lit up for a moment as lightning struck in the distance. He knew he had me.
“The look in her eyes,” he said, a soft laugh drifting through the phone. “She was so surprised to see me.”
The room hollowed out. My heart rate accelerated like someone had pushed a button. Spots started flashing between my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Carolina and left her alone.
“If you—”
“I did. Maybe now you’ll get it.” He hung up.
FORTY-SEVEN
I dialed Carolina’s number twice as I sped from Mission Beach to Bay Park. No answer.
I called Carter. He answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?” I yelled.
“Driving around,” he said. “I’m showing—”
“Get to my mother’s! Now!”
“Ten minutes,” he said and hung up.
I threw the phone at the floor of the Jeep, so angry for listening to her and letting her convince me she could take care of herself. Not taking Keene seriously enough.
I’d fucked up.
The Jeep hydroplaned through the puddles on Morena, spraying water like giant rooster tails. People were honking and flashing their brights at me as I swerved around them.
I slammed on the brakes in front of Carolina’s house, sliding nearly twenty feet before coming to a crooked stop. Carter’s Ram Charger did the same on the opposite side of the street.
“What happened?” Carter yelled through the rain.
