Page 67 of Bitter Spirits

“Didn’t say he did,” Locke said, keeping his voice level. “But we’d like to know where he is so we can fill him in on Micah’s condition. He’s the only family left.”

Paisley clutched the glass until her bones pressed against white against her skin, her throat working as she swallowed. “What happened to him? The brother, I mean?”

“He was drugged,” Mari said, her tone clinical.

Paisley’s mouth rounded in shock, the precarious knot of brown hair bundled at the back of her head threatening to come loose as she turned to look at the lawyer. “Whoa, no cap?”

“Truth,” Mari confirmed. “Someone slipped him a drug at the Alchemist.”

Something flashed in Paisley’s eyes and snared Locke’s instincts. Knowing if he cornered her, he’d get nothing useful, he tried to circle around the topic. “You ever been there?”

Paisley blinked at him, her brow furrowing. “Where?”

“The Alchemist.”

Tension crept through the hunched shoulders as she dropped her gaze, but she managed a jerky shrug. “A few times.”

He pushed back, set his foot on his knee and rested his arm on the smooth table. His fingers drummed quietly as he considered how to seed the trail. Since every time Isaiah’s name was mentioned, she tensed up, he decided to try another name. “Ever meet a guy named Leo?”

A look of mild disgust flashed across her face. “Total sus.”

Okay, he knew that word. Clearly, Leo had failed to impress Paisley. “How so?”

“He hangs with the elders, you know, yet he keeps trying to link up.” She scratched her nail over the tabletop. “Isaiah’s cool with him, even though he wouldn’t leave Isaiah alone.”

Elders? He shot a look to Mari, who gave an amused shake of her head. Kelly is barely five years older than this girl, so what does that make me—ancient?

“How so?” Mari asked.

Paisley shifted in her seat, pushing back from the table a bit. “He kept talking to Isaiah about some new gig he had going, but Isaiah wasn’t buying it—said he had no rizz.” She reached for her glass and pulled it closer.

Dear gods, if this interview went much longer, he’d need a translator. Based on context, he figured Leo’s erratic behavior had become problematic for Isaiah, which meant he must have already been using when he hit up Isaiah.

“What about Jigz?” Locke asked.

She stiffened so fast the water in the glass sloshed. “Jigz?” Her voice pitched high at the end as her gaze went anywhere but to him.

“The truth, Paisley,” Mari warned. “Otherwise, we’ll be having a different conversation, one that will include locating your nearest relative.”

For a moment, the real Paisley peeked out with a spark of youthful mutiny. “Good luck finding one who’s sober.”

A flash of pity hit Locke, but Mari didn’t flinch. She simply held Paisley’s stare. That cool-eyed look had Paisley’s rebellion sputtering into resignation. “Fine.” She shot Locke a resentment-filled glare. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around.”

Likely used him to get her fix when needed. “He another friend of Isaiah’s?”

Her nose wrinkled as she gave a snort. “Not a friend. More like a… what do you call it?” She looked to Mari.

“Acquaintance?” Mari offered.

“That.” Paisley nodded and turned back to Locke. “Isaiah only dealt with him because Carter told him to.” She drew her leg up and wrapped her arms around her blue scrubs–covered shin, brushing her chin over her knee.

Next to him, Isa stiffened, but he was already putting a name to the stone-faced bouncer at the Den. “Who’s Carter?”

Paisley cocked her head and stated blithely, “He’s my agent.”

It was not the answer he’d been expecting. “Agent?”

Paisley sat up straighter. “Yeah, I got picked up by Streetwise Talent.” She tilted her head and flashed a gorgeous smile that saddened him because it offered a glimpse of what she could be if not for the disease shoving her down a darker path. “Carter was getting me paid gigs, which was great, but I was already behind on my rent. I had a payment plan going with my dick of a landlord, but when he found out Isaiah was staying with me, he kicked me out.”