Pivot (The Jack Harper Trilogy Book 1)

by L.C. Barlow

  Chapter 8

  ONE, FOR THE MONEY

  "The lock I need picked belongs to the back door of a small house about an hour and a half from here," Patrick told me. "The house I used to live in and own. You know how I told you I was paranoid?"

  "Yeah," I said.

  "Well, the meth back then made me really fucking paranoid. I'd hide things - out in the yard, taped to the back of the toilet, in the brick of the fireplace."

  "Wow," I said.

  "Yeah, it's a little fucked up."

  "Or unintentionally brilliant," I said.

  Patrick's eyes no longer had joy in them. "Well, one year my Father got fed up with me and came with two men to get me. They put me in a car, took me to a rehab center, and wouldn't let me leave.

  "They got me clean over a half a year's time, enrolled me in college, got my life back on track. I'll admit that. They did. But while I was in rehab, my Dad sold the house. I didn't know till later."

  "Ah," I said, the realization quickly stabbing me. "And there was money you left behind."

  He sighed loudly. "And things." He rubbed his hands on his legs repeatedly. "I don't even know if they're still there. But I also don't want to risk tipping the new owners off that there's something worth my coming all the way back a year and a half later to get. If I were to tell them exactly what it is I'm missing, they certainly won't let me in."

  "What did you leave behind?"

  Patrick sighed again and ran his hands through his hair. "Well, what I think I can get back, hope I can get back, is fifty grand in cash and a rosary worth... quite a bit." He looked at me with vulnerable eyes.

  "You must have been pretty fucking out of it to forget about that shit," I said.

  "I was," he replied, quietly.

  "And where did you put these things?" I asked.

  "I definitely put them in the fireplace."

  "In the fireplace?"

  "Well, in one side of the fireplace. One of the bricks pulls out. I hid the money and the rosary in a few pockets I carved out inside the fireplace wall."

  I sighed. "This is insane."

  "This is meth."

  I shook my head, shrugged my shoulders.

  "I'll help you," I conceded, and this shocked Patrick into perfect stillness. I also knew, in that moment, that he would agree to anything. "But on one condition."

  "I will pay you..."

  I swatted these words away. "What I really need right now is... your car."

  "My car?"

  "For tomorrow. The whole day."

  He breathed rapidly, bit his lip hard. It bled, and he wiped away the blood. With the same hand, he shook mine. "We have a deal."