Page 135 of A Quick Buck

“Double check the staff who worked the party. Dispose of any remaining food or beverage. Let Frida and Jamie know what’s going on, and let them know I want to speak to them later.” Alistair continued stroking Noah’s back. “When Crybaby is done taking care of our guest, we’ll—”

“Guest?” Noah jerked his head up.

“I will explain everything to you later, but now—”

“No, come on. Don’t be like that.” Noah dug his hands into Alistair’s shoulders. “No, please. Tell me. Is Patrick okay?”

“I don’t know—”

“What do you mean? Either you killed him or you didn’t!”

“Dear boy,” Alistair soothed. “Please. I cannot give you an answer that I do not have.”

“Are you high? What about all that crap with taking care of ‘our guest’? You were just with Uncle Patrick!”

Alistair shook his head.

“What now?”

“The man downstairs is Patrick Allan, but he is not your uncle.”

Chapter 19

“What?” Noah pulled away so he could stare Alistair right in the eye.

“The man who was brought to us was Patrick Douglas Allan,” Alistair replied calmly. “Your uncle is Patrick Louis Allan. A terrible misunderstanding that was resolved very quickly.”

Relief flooded Noah’s chest, and his fingers tingled from a fresh surge of adrenaline.

Patrick was safe. He was okay. He was still alive.

Wait, shit, because they had brought in the wrong guy.

Which meant that Patrick was still out there in hiding, and this wasn’t going to end until they found him.

Shit, shit,shit.

Noah’s head swam, and he hugged Alistair.

“Come along,” Alistair urged gently. “I’m taking you to bed.” He addressed the others. “Call in some volunteers.”

“What about Mickey and Roger?” Junior asked.

“No. Let them return to Strassen Springs. They did what we asked of them. Patrick must still be here in the city. Search every inch. We have to find him before someone else does.”

“What are you thinking, Mr. Star?” Mace’s brow wrinkled. “You don’t think he killed Carbone?”

“No.” Alistair shook his head. “But his absence is quite troubling. We need him. Alive.”

“You got it, boss,” Erasmus said with a tip of his head. “You want me to work on Medina?”

“Not yet. But soon.”

Erasmus smiled.

Fuck, that was creepy.

“Have some of the volunteers come here,” Alistair went on. “I want the grounds watched at all times.”