Rocky had been in and out twice. After he spelled Ernie, she’d gone to get him a Mimi’s, hung out with him awhile and then she’d headed out to hit the jewelry store on Main for a donation (and scored herself a gold and amethyst bracelet, it wasn’t fit for a queen but it wasn’t shabby either). Then she’d gone grocery shopping, taken it back to her apartment and come back with lunch.

“When does Spike come to relieve you?” she asked, popping the fry into her mouth.

“Three,” Layne answered.

She moved her Styrofoam container from one hand to the other and looked at her watch. Then her nose scrunched.

“That’s nearly two hours away,” she muttered, picking up her sandwich and shoving it into her little plastic container of au jus. “I’ve never done it but I’m pretty certain watching paint dry is more interesting. At least it changes colors. So, maybe it just darkens a shade but that’s something.”

Layne grinned at his reuben.

“Told you this investigation shit is mostly boring,” Layne muttered back, her eyes slid to him and he took a huge bite of one of many of Frank’s Restaurant’s freaking fantastic sandwiches and watched his woman smile.

Layne’s phone rang, her eyes dropped to it on his desk and then narrowed.

“Cal,” she whispered as Layne pulled his feet from the desk and reached for the phone.

He flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Yo, Cal.”

“You at a place where you can move quick?”

Layne’s back went straight.

“Maybe, why?”

“’Cause Keira just came shooting out of her bedroom. Even though she’s grounded and Vi told her no phone calls or texts for a week, she found a way to take one from Jasper. Apparently, he’s been on a mission today. He found out what happened last night and he’s meanin’ to do somethin’ about it.”

Oh f**k.

Layne put his lunch down and stood, reaching for his jacket. “She tell you what he found out?”

“Yep. He heard from someone who witnessed it that Keirry took a shot from a kid named Tyler Berger. Keira says she doesn’t remember it but if she did it that was the only drink she had that Jasper himself didn’t hand her. Jasper learned she took it after usin’ the bathroom right before they were gonna leave so the timing fits. According to Keira, Jasper is not a big fan of Tyler Berger mainly because, while he was playin’ it cool and textin’ her, Tyler asked Keira out. She didn’t go but this made Tyler pretty f**kin’ unpopular to Jasper. Jasper told Keirry that he reckons this kid slipped her the drug and he’s itchin’ for payback for last night and for Tyler tryin’ to move on his territory. That said, Keira says Tyler’s a slimeball and she doesn’t put this shit passed him. She says his parents are out of town and it was his party they were at last night. Jasper is headin’ that way and so am I.”

He had his jacket on and his eyes glued to Rocky. “Where is it?”

“The Heritage. Don’t have the house number but Keira says it’s the second left in the development, at the end of the street. I figure I’ll see Jasper’s Charger parked out front.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Layne stated.

“Good, I’ll be there in five, I’ll deal with what I find and you take it from there,” Cal replied.

“He was pissed, Cal, and he’s protective. What you find may be messy,” Layne warned.

“Yeah, why’d you think I went easy on him last night? He was more torn up about what happened to Keirry than Vi and I were, and, man, I gotta tell you, your girl gets slipped a date rape drug, it tears you up. But, Keira is on a mission to live her high school years to their fullest and is definitely not immune to f**king up as in taking a shot from a known slimeball and downin’ it.”

This was not in doubt, the Layne family had learned Keira was a nut and it was further indication his son was just like his old man.

“I hear you, brother, but I’m on duty in the office. I gotta brief Roc before I leave so she can take over. I gotta go,” Layne replied.

“Gotcha, see you in ten,” Cal said and Layne heard the disconnect.

His eyes were still on Rocky so he spoke. “Jasper found out who slipped Keira the drug, he’s bearin’ down on him now, Cal’s five minutes out, I gotta get to my boy.”

“Go, baby,” she whispered.

“You take notes you hear anything important, see the numbers on the screen?” he asked, she glanced at the screen and nodded, “Write down timings. I can scroll back and listen. You hear something big, something that freaks you, you take note of the time and call Merry then you call me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Go.”

He leaned in quickly to kiss her forehead that she helpfully tipped back for him and he took off.

* * * * *

Jasper’s Charger and Cal’s truck were in front of an enormous house that took up the entirety of a secluded cul de sac at the end of a street on The Heritage. The house was set back from the road and surrounded by trees. Its front yard was also littered with cans, bottles, chip bags and used plastic cups.

Layne parked behind Cal’s truck and jogged to the front door which was partially ajar. He slipped through and saw the house was like the yard, except a lot worse. The place was a disaster and it smelled like vomit and stale beer. And there wasn’t one keg in the wide entryway, there were three.

He heard the voices from upstairs, Jasper’s pissed, Cal’s a murmur, another boy’s sounding scared.

Layne took the stairs two at a time, moved down the hall and walked into a bedroom that was a mess, not from the party, but from a teenaged kid living in it. And it was enormous. It had a queen-sized bed, heavy, expensive furniture and it was stuffed full of everything a kid could want. State-of-the-art stereo, computer, TV, PS3, shelves full of DVDs, CDs and games, handheld video games, digital picture frames, expensive cell phone and an MP3 player scattering the surface of the desk and chest of drawers, tangles of clothes everywhere.

All three pairs of eyes came to him when he entered the room and Layne saw Cal had Jasper held back with a hand in his chest, Jasper was keeping it in check but that didn’t mean he wasn’t straining. Another boy, three inches shorter and definitely slighter than his son, his hair a sandy blond mop on his head, a bedhead, Layne had no doubt when he primped it was styled passed Tripp’s best efforts, had pressed himself against a wall. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was gray because he was hungover. His lower lip was already swelling fat and a trickle of blood was seeping from his nose because Jasper had time to get a few in before Cal arrived.