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in to my house and shot my daughter and put her in the hospital.’

Raul looks like he’s about to interrupt at this, but I don’t let him, my voice rising to cut him off. ‘I don’t believe it was you. But if it wasn’t you, then it was someone else, and I really need to find out who it was, and you two are the only people who might be able to help me because the police couldn’t find their own assholes if they were sitting on the toilet shitting diarrhea.’

I take a deep, shuddering breath in and then let it out and now everything comes back into focus – my field of vision widening to take in the almost silent bar and the two men standing in front of me, mouths agape, and Laurie behind them, turning paler by the second. Did I go too far? Oh shit. I don’t know what just came over me. All I know is that it came from somewhere deep and guttural inside me and that now it’s unleashed like a genie from a bottle, there’s no way of putting it back.

I look at Laurie. She’s clutching her keys in her hand like a homemade knuckleduster and her eyes are darting wildly from them to me and back again.

‘All right,’ Raul says, and just like that he pulls up a stool and sits down beside us.

I topple backwards onto my own stool, legs suddenly amorphous as jellyfish.

James sits on Laurie’s other side and signals the barman who pulls a bottle from under the bar, lines up four glasses and then proceeds to pour shots of what I assume is tequila.

‘Drink,’ says Raul, nudging the glass towards me with a tattooed knuckle.

I pick it up and throw it down my throat, slamming the glass down on the bar. Fuck, I needed that. Raul guffaws and signals the barman to refill my glass. I down that shot too. The alcohol strips a layer off my throat but brings an instant hit of warmth and settles my nerves. I wait for Raul to pick up his glass and drink, his eyes fixed on me the whole time as though he’s still trying to get my measure.

‘Do you know who broke into my house?’ I ask.

He splutters, coughing. ‘Look,’ he says, crunching his shot glass down on the bar and wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. ‘We can’t tell you shit about the break-in. Wasn’t us and we don’t know who it was.’

He leans in close and I study his eyes – inches from mine – the golden halos at the center burning bright. Can I believe him? I look at Laurie, who shrugs.

‘What did my husband pay you for?’

Raul and James exchange a look. ‘Like we told the police, no comment.’

I sigh loudly. ‘He gave you money. What for?’

They exchange another look. James finally nods at Raul who leans forwards so his lips are right by my ear.

‘If you must know, your son Gene owes us eighty thousand dollars.’

I reel backwards to stare at him. What the hell? ‘I don’t understand,’ I murmur. ‘What for?’

‘What do you think?’

‘Drugs?’ I say.

‘Shhh,’ he hisses, darting a glance over his shoulder at the bar, but all the customers are studiously looking everywhere but at us.

‘That’s a lot of money,’ I say.

‘Was a lot of drugs.’

I stare down at the filthy, unswept floor, trying to gather my thoughts. What was Gene thinking? He must be dealing to be buying such large amounts. Even he couldn’t smoke that much weed. The damn stupid idiot. I look up. Raul and James are watching me.

‘What kind of drugs?’ Laurie asks, before I think to.

‘Meth,’ Raul murmurs.

‘Meth? He’s dealing meth?’ I screech so loudly that Raul growls at me to keep it down. I think back to how Gene was at the hospital and the pieces slot into place like the cylinders of a lock. ‘Oh my God.’ Gene’s not just dealing. He’s using.

‘It’s a huge problem in the valley,’ Laurie breaks in, looking and sounding as shocked as me. ‘I read about it in the paper.’

I feel suddenly dizzy, the tequila making my head spin. ‘Robert was giving you money to pay off the debt,’ I stammer.

‘He gave us thirty grand. Gene still owes us eighty. You don’t happen to know where he is, do you? We’ve been trying to find him.’

‘Join the club,’ I murmur, all the while trying to wrap my head around the enormous number he just mentioned. Eighty plus thirty. One hundred and ten thousand dollars! What was he thinking? And what was Robert thinking bailing him out like that using my pawned jewelry?!

‘Why does he owe you so much?’ Laurie asks, and I can tell she’s suspicious that they’re lying to us.

‘He’s meant to pay commission on what he sells.’

‘You take a cut?’ I ask.

Raul eyes me. ‘Us, and the people above, the people who provide the product and allow him to distribute it.’

People above them? It’s a chain. I look at Laurie who’s figuring it out too. Raul and James are only the middlemen.

‘Who are these people?’ Laurie demands.

Raul cocks an eyebrow at her. ‘You don’t need to know.’

‘But he owes them too?’ I say, dully.

He nods.

‘If it wasn’t you who broke into the house, could it have been them?’

Raul gives a non-committal shrug. ‘Could be anyone. Gene pissed off a lot of people. Could be one of the people he dealt to – figured he had money on the property. Or maybe they were looking for his stash.’

‘How long has he been dealing for you?’ Laurie asks.

‘Six months.’

I take that in. My stepson is a drug dealer. Gene, the little boy I raised, is a drug dealer, and not a small-fry one either. I can’t look at Laurie. I’m too ashamed.

‘Why couldn’t Gene pay you the money?’ I ask. ‘If he’s been dealing for six months and making profit, why couldn’t he pay you?’

‘He claims it was stolen.’

‘Stolen?’ I ask, frowning. ‘What? When?’

‘About

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