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She didn’t hear him.
The bottle slipped out of his hands and crashed to the concrete.
Finn shot out of his seat and yelled, “Wait, Court! Let me take you—”
A chirp shattered the air. Finn’s eyes burst open. He blinked rapidly, struggling to reacquaint himself with reality after being sucked into a far-too-realistic dream.
His mouth dry, he reached for the glass of water he kept on the nightstand. It took a moment to sit up without feeling like his head was about to explode.
Pills. He had to find the pills. Fingers trembling, he picked up the bottle of medication he kept close by and grabbed his beer to knock it back. After guzzling the alcohol, Finn slammed the can down and stared at the ring mark it had left on the cheap, plastic nightstand.
Another chirp.
His phone. Finn patted around his muscled torso, searching the sheets for the device. He finally found it after unraveling the blanket and peered at the name on the screen.
Nolan.
Still suffering from the aftereffects of his dream, he slapped the phone to his face and grunted. “What do you want?”
Nolan’s thin, dry voice cut through the noise in his head. “I got a lead.”
“You got a”—Finn’s eyes widened and he scrambled to the edge of his bed, fully alert. “Where is he?”
“It’s not a sure thing,” Nolan answered.
“Where the hell is he?” Finn hissed. The rage building inside was instantaneous and powerful, sweeping every nerve.
“They’ve got a case in Belize that fits the M.O.”
“Belize?”
“It’s a little country in the Caribbean, but listen to me, Finn. There’s just a couple coincidental similarities here. The authorities aren’t making a big deal about it and they wouldn’t take kindly to some white guy storming in and making a mess.”
Finn stalked to the closet and rifled through his clothes. “Give me a name.”
“Finn—”
“I need a contact!” he yelled.
Nolan went quiet. Finn could hear his friend’s hesitation, his regret. He felt a flicker of guilt, but squashed it with a grunt. Finn didn’t care how many bridges he had to burn to get his hands on the prick who murdered his sister.
Sitting back and watching the wheels of justice turn hadn’t brought results.
The cops had let him down. Bureaucracy had laughed in his face. He’d heard a whole lot of bull about diplomacy and red tape before he’d decided that justice was a joke and the only people who got crap done were those who were willing to do it themselves.
“You don’t have to keep running down this path,” Nolan said worriedly.
Finn rubbed his temples. The pills still hadn’t kicked in yet. Based on experience, they’d take at least half-an-hour. He’d need to amp up the dose or something. This wasn’t working. “Are you my therapist or my friend?”
“You’ll get yourself killed.”
“The name, Nolan.”
“It’s Jewel.” Nolan paused and then let it all out in a rush. “According to my contacts, she was his last voyeur before he went missing a year ago.”
“Jewel.” He tasted the name on his tongue.
“Finn…”
