Page 53 of Traces Of You

“Oliver has been known to hold the product when asked so that Randy isn’t caught with it.”

Fuck!

“I told you about the break-in at Oliver’s. Are they related?”

“Word on the street is that there are over a thousand ecstasy pills missing. Randy is panicking. He had them at Oliver’s house and someone broke in looking for them.”

“That explains why they couldn’t call the police about the break-in. Someone might have found them,” he said.

Clay nodded. “So they think someone stole their stash and now they need the money?”

“It’s not just that,” Grady said. “There are a few rumors. One I heard you might not like.”

“It has to do with Reenie, doesn’t it?” Ford asked.

Grady grimaced. “There is a rumor going around that Oliver knocked his girl around enough that she took the pills and sold them for money and ran.”

Clay turned to look at him. His tight lips and dark eyes said that Reenie was guilty.

There was no way she’d get involved in something like that.

He didn’t believe it.

“It’s just a rumor?” he asked.

“One of many. The other was there was cash in the house and not drugs, and that is missing. Randy wouldn’t want anyone to know he had his stash taken out from under him. He’s lying low now.”

“So he’s got nothing to push?” Clay asked.

“I didn’t get that far. I was trying to find out about Oliver and it led to Randy.”

“Keep looking or let me know if you find anything else out,” Clay said.

“Will do,” Grady said.

The call disconnected. “Make sure I get the bill for this.”

Clay laughed. “What bill?”

“Isn’t he some PI or something now?” he asked.

“No. He’s a buddy with contacts in the area. Think nothing of it. Sounds to me like you’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“She’s not into drugs,” he said. “No way.”

“How did she fund this trip?”

“Clay. She’s driving a car that is fifteen years old and wouldn’t pass inspection in this state. You know that. She had maybe two bags of clothing, and a few hundred dollars cash on her and some Visa cards. That doesn’t scream anyone with a solid stash.”

“Could be she’s waiting to sell it when she needs more cash,” Clay said. “You’re looking at about twenty-five thousand in street value.”

“Not a ton,” he said. “Not in the scheme of things.”

“But it’d be a lot for someone who doesn’t have the cash to pay back what is missing.”

“I’m telling you, you’re wrong,” he said.

“I hope for your sake I am. And if I know you, you’re going there now to ask.”