Page 45

“Excuse me.”

A man approaches.

“I’m Caleb Frazer,” I say, holding out a hand. “I own the building.”

“Ah, Mr Frazer, your colleague is over here. We’re still trying to find out what caused the fire,” he says.

“Thank you. I look forward to hearing your findings.”

I make my way over to Wes.

He looks up from his phone.

“You look like hell. A good night?” he asks, smirking.

“It was okay. I met Tristan at his latest venture. He’s looking at opening a club,” I say, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

Wes’s mouth twists at my words. “Always had the Midas touch, that one. All your Kingland Playboy Posse do.”

He smiles, but there’s no hiding the bitterness in his tone.

I decide to change the subject. He is, after all, my right-hand man. His relationship with my friends, or lack of it, holds no sway here.

“So, what do we know?”

“Not much.” His lips purse. “They think the fire started in the cafe, along the wall connecting it to the dance studio. They will need to carry out further investigations to confirm.

“Where is April Wilson now?” I ask.

“Don’t know. The police took her statement, and she left.”

Wes shrugs.

I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but refrain.

“Do we have an address?” I say, trying hard to keep my cool.

“No,” he replies.

I grit my teeth.

“I’m going to head into the office,” I say. “There’s nothing I can do here. Let me know if anything else comes up.”

Wes nods, and I walk away, heading back to where the taxi dropped me.

I pick up my phone and dial.

April’s phone goes straight to voicemail. I try again and again, but the same thing happens. I dial another number, which is picked up on the third ring.

“Caleb.” Elijah’s dulcet tones come down the phone.

“One of the buildings i'm buying burned down last night. I need all the information you’ve collated on April Wilson. She’s the only one who was in the building.”

“Shit. Is she okay?” he asks.

I’m surprised at my brother’s concern.

“She got out, but I need an address.”