Page 22 of Allie

“Hi,” he said and kissed me quick. “Good timing.”

“Perfect timing.” I descended the stairs. “I figured y’all would meet me there.”

He laced his fingers with mine. “I just got finished going through Doyle’s apartment again.”

I glanced at him. “Did you find anything new?”

He pulled out his phone and opened the photo app, then showed me a couple of pictures. One was a group of people in black robes, as if performing some kind of ritual. The other photo was of Doyle and another man. They were smiling and looked to be on vacation. “Do you think that man is his brother or friend?”

Roan shoved his phone back into his pants packet. “I’m not sure. I rarely make it a point to get to know everyone in town. Doyle was an ass, so I ignored him most of the time.”

I understood that.

O'Malley's was warm, and the air held scents of fried food and burgers. Laughter bubbled up from clustered tables, a live band tuning their instruments in the corner.

Roan and I found Draven and Asa at a booth along the wall. “Hi guys.”

"Hi," Asa greeted me and scooted over on the bench to make room.

I slid in beside him while Roan sat across from me, beside Draven. Draven gave me a nod, his dark gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary, while Asa's smile lit up the space between us.

Roan filled the guys in on what he found at Doyle’s while I plucked a fried pickle from the plate in the center of the table.

“Also found a journal,” Roan said.

“Another one?” I asked.

Roan nodded. “This one doesn’t have the symbol on it, so I’m hoping if his personal diary.”

That would be nice. “Do you have it on you?”

He shook his head. “It’s spelled, but I think it’s a different type of spell than the other book.”

The one with the cult symbol.

Asa frowned. “I’ve heard rumors of a dark cult, but I never believed them. I’d like to look at the symbol again when we get to your place after dinner.”

We changed the subject to a more relaxed topic, which I was okay with. Asa had just told a story of how Draven and he got into trouble for stealing his dad’s favorite bottle of whisky when they were in high school. The only way they got caught was because Asa’s mom spelled the bottle of liquor to turn their lips purple. My laughter hitched in my throat as I looked across the dimly lit pub and saw a face I recognized. A man with sharp features and shifty eyes nursing a drink alone. It was the same one from the photo Roan showed me earlier.

"Roan," I whispered, tilting my head slightly toward the man. "Isn't that?.."

His muscles tensed beneath the table. "Yeah, one of Doyle's close friends."

Draven and Asa caught on quickly, their casual banter falling silent. The atmosphere around our table shifted, the weight of suspicion settling heavily on our shoulders.

"Keep it cool," Roan murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "We don't want to spook him."

"Of course," I agreed, trying to keep my voice steady, but my pulse thrummed a warning.

Draven said, “That’s Todd. I’ve seen him with Doyle several times. I think they were childhood friends or stepbrothers or something like that.”

“If anyone knows about the cult, it would be him,” I said, keeping my voice low. The guys nodded in agreement.

We made our move when Todd signaled for the check, Roan leading with a casual saunter that belied the tension vibrating through our little group. I trailed behind him, my hands clammy and heart racing like I was about to leap out of an airplane rather than approach a man who might just hold the answers to a puzzle that had been haunting us all.

"Hey," Roan began. "You're Doyle's friend, right?"

Todd looked up, his gaze darting between us like a cornered animal. I feigned interest in a nearby dartboard, but from the corner of my eye, I studied him—a picture of nervous energy trapped within a too-neat suit.