Deven winced but gave a nod at the steep price. It was necessary, she supposed. And if he could do the job, then it was well worth it. She thought for a minute, then asked, “Deuce, are you able to tell me who Kennedy hired you to track down?”

Another pause. “Look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of that shit,” he said. “She told me the girl was a friend of hers and that’s it.”

“But you know the friend’s name. And why she was looking for her.”

“You want me to track Erika, or not?” His voice was laced with agitation.

Deven sighed. He was being somewhat helpful. She had to appreciate the little effort he did provide. “Well then can you just tell me why you were in my apartment?” she asked. “Why do you want me to stay out of it? What do you know?”

“You’re giving me way too much credit. I don’t know what you think. And I wasn’t in your apartment. Never was. $5,000. Cash.” He gave the door a nudge, prompting Deven to slide her foot out of the way so it didn’t get smashed. Then he closed it in her face, leaving her standing on the porch alone in confusion.

Deuce had promised a few hours and Deven hadn’t pressed for a more accurate estimate. Did he mean ‘few’ like two, or a ‘few’ like nine? It was hard to say, and he was so damn vague that she couldn’t tell one way or the other. So, after she’d pulled the additional funds from her savings and ignored the guilt at that being some of the money from her dad’s life insurance, she dropped it back off at Deuce’s place and headed home. With the sun starting to set and the nighttime creeping in, she seriously doubted she would be doing any more investigating tonight. Exhausted, not to mention hungry. Hell, when was the last time she’d actually had substance in her stomach? Probably was the reason she felt so mentally, emotionally, and physically drained.

It had been only two weeks since that life-altering knock on her door. Two weeks that felt like two lifetimes. And all the while Deven had felt like she’d been gripping a crumbling wall with only her fingertips, not able to pull herself up from the peril, and too afraid to plummet below at what she might find. So, though Deuce wasn’t the most likeable guy in all his greedy, selfish splendor, Deven prayed he would prove to be as good as he alleged. Her psyche couldn’t handle any more of the unpredictable. Speaking of unpredictable . . .