He used his thumb and index finger to remove the cigarette from his lips. “Nah,” he said. “What you need?” He didn’t move from the door, and she caught the sound of a TV playing somewhere in the background.

Deven shifted, the discomfort beginning to settle in. “I need your help,” she admitted.

Deuce’s face lit with amusement as his eyes flicked behind her, then back again. “Who sent you?”

“No one sent me. I need your help to find somebody.”

Deuce let out a disinterested grunt. “Go to the police.”

“I can’t.” And because he didn’t seem impressed by the request, Deven rushed on. “Keith said I need to find somebody so you were the person I knew could do it.”

He paused, the mention of Keith obviously piquing his interest. Then his eyes narrowed.

“What do you need?” be asked, taking another drag of his nicotine.

“An address for an Erika Garrett.” If the name sounded familiar, Deuce didn’t let on. He leaned a shoulder against the threshold of his doorway.

“I don’t do shit for free.”

She had figured as much. Since it was clear he wasn’t going to let her in or proceed without an incentive, Deven yanked open the straps of her purse and pulled out a small stack of hundreds. She held it out, the bills crispy in her fingers. Thank God she’d had the good sense to stop at the bank on the drive over.

Deuce glanced at the money and to her surprise, laughed out loud. “The hell is that? Gas money?”

“It’s $1000,” she said, certain that was more than enough.

“Sweetie, $1000 will get you the zip code to her last place of employment. You want me to lock her down, you need to come off a lot more than that.” He started to close the door and Deven quickly stuffed her toe between the door and the jamb to keep it open.

“Okay, I can go get some more,” she agreed. “I’ll go to the bank. But can you just please hear me out first and let me know if you can do this?” She didn’t care if it sounded like she was begging. She was desperate. Deuce didn’t attempt to open or close the door any further, so Deven took it as permission and rushed on. “This woman, Erika Garrett, apparently has information on the whereabouts of my sister. I need an address of where she is staying. Can you find her in a few days?”

Even in the sliver of darkness from Deuce’s living room, Deven caught his smirk. “Sweetie, I can find her in a few hours. $5000. And I’m giving you a deal only because you are cool with Keith and it’s his daughter.”