Page 5 of Nowhere Good

He picked one of them up. A bag like this had been found in Eliza’s pocket, but that one was empty, and this one was full. Black tar heroin. He pressed the ball between his fingers.

A rush.

Hot lava in his veins.

Melting like—

“Winslow?”

He stood, holding the bag so tight his palm became sweaty inside his latex glove. “What is it?”

Pereira appeared beside him and saw the two remaining bags on the nightstand. She let out a toothy whistle. “Wow, surprised his good buddies didn’t swipe this from him.”

Without thinking, he slipped the third bag into his pocket before Pereira saw he’d picked it up. The regret was instant—old habits die hard—but it was too late to change it now.

He focused on the photo of Brad and the girl. “Who is this?”

“Oh, that’s Claire Dyer. Her daddy owns The Stalk and Barrell, restaurant and bar on the east side. Fairview homegrowns, been here for generations. They’ve even got their own corn farm. Practically makes them royalty in a town like this.”

Seth took out his phone and brought up Eliza’s high school yearbook photo from his case files. “What do you think?”

“They sure look alike,” Pereira said. “Coincidence?”

“Probably,” Seth said, putting the phone away.

“I’ve never heard anything about Brad dating Eliza, but I’ve been told he dated Claire Dyer in their high school days. She dumped him after grad, but I guess he never moved on. She sure did, though—she’s been with Dillon Beamish ever since.”

“Dillon Beamish,” Seth said, feeling out the name. “DB?”

“Shit. Maybe.”

He scanned the room and stopped on a short bookshelf piled with junk. Tucked at the bottom was a hardcover book with gold letters embossed on the spine: FAIRVIEW HIGH, CLASS OF 2017.

Pereira followed as he grabbed the book and flipped through the pages until he found Brad’s high school photo, and Claire Dyer’s not far after it. They’d been sophomores. He flipped to the seniors and found Eliza Johnson’s photo, exactly as he had in his files. And on the page before, there was a picture of a guy with a buzzcut, pockmarked cheeks, and eyes so dark, they were nearly black. He wore a white beater with no hint of a smile. Dillon Beamish.

“Same class, same year,” Seth said. He closed the book and put it back on the shelf. “Haylock was so focused on Eliza’s recent history, but these are the people who knew her for her entire life.”

“Wow,” Pereira said. “Maybe Eliza and Dillon had a thing.”

“Maybe they never stopped.”

“Well, you’re in luck—both Claire and Dillon should be working at the bar right now.” Nerves flickered over her face. “But hey, just a tidbit: avoid the accusations if you wanna stay in Chief Wells’s good book. Claire’s daddy happens to be one of the biggest financial contributors to our humble police force.”

“Don’t worry. If they have nothing to hide, they have nothing to worry about.”

“Famous last words,” Pereira said grimly. “You’ll find them at The Stalk and Barrell on East Street.”

TWO

“Daddy, we need to talk.”

Claire’s fists shook at her sides and her voice trembled as she tried to look strong in front of her dad and his friends. Her dad bounced her baby nephew, Sully, on his lap and held a hand of cards. He blinked at her like she was stupid.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“Alone. Please?”

Around the table in the back room of the bar, Claire’s dad and his buddies were having one of their poker games. She knew better than to act up when the bikers were in town—especially those sleazy ones that came in from Illinois, and especially when they were playing poker—but she’d just been told something she couldn’t wrap her head around.