Don't Go Down There: An absolutely addictive domestic thriller by Kiersten Modglin

Author:Kiersten Modglin [Modglin, Kiersten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kiersten Modglin
Published: 2023-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

SPENCER

It only occurs to me after I’ve parked in the parking garage that I have no idea who I’m looking for or where exactly we’re supposed to be meeting. Inside? Outside? Is it his apartment? An office building?

I can’t exactly ask someone if they’ve seen him.

Excuse me, have you seen anyone who looks like a drug dealer around here? No, no reason at all. Just a question. Actually, it’s sort of a scavenger hunt situation. All we still need is a photo with a drug dealer. Think you can help me out?

I roll my eyes and pull out my phone, considering texting Tyler to ask what he looks like, but decide against it.

I’m two minutes late as I round the corner of the building where he asked to meet. It’s an Italian restaurant. The scent of hearty tomato sauce and garlic hits my nose as someone exits the front door. I look around, searching for the guy.

Not an easy task.

The sidewalk is bustling with people. Tourists, mostly. Half a dozen bachelorette parties, complete with matching sashes and cowgirl hats, most completely shit-faced while it’s just now five o’clock. Businessmen and women talking on their cell phones, moving fast, not making eye contact. On the street, I see three pedal taverns—more bachelorette parties screaming obscenities to the crowded sidewalk.

A musician plays his guitar on the corner, the speakers on either side of him filling the street with his voice—he’s pretty good, at least. Around him, people stand and gawk, clapping when he finishes and tossing dollar bills into a tin bucket on the ground.

I spin around, nearly bumping into a homeless man and his dog as they move past me.

“Sorry.”

I glance back in the direction from which I came. Have I been stood up? Am I too late? The musician starts singing again, the music making it hard to think.

“Hey, man.”

I hear the voice coming from behind me and spin around.

“Hey.”

Whoever I’d been expecting, this is not him. The man is dressed in a fitted business suit, his thick, brown hair slicked back. The dark facial hair on his cheeks and chin is neatly trimmed with crisp lines. He looks like he should be selling stocks on Wall Street or cologne in a TV commercial, not pills on a street corner.

He moves forward with a confidence that makes me uneasy. “Long time no see.”

I furrow my brows. “Sorry? You may have the wrong person.”

“Nah, I don’t.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at me. “You’re Tyler’s friend, right?”

My shoulders drop. “Yes. That’s right. You’re…” The question hangs in the air.

“Yep.” He watches as an older couple moves past and waves at them. It’s as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “How’s the family?”

“Um, great. Yours?”

“Perfect.” He smirks, then jerks his head to the side, leading me closer to the building. When I draw closer—but not too close—he lowers his voice and shoves both hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Six hundred bucks.”

“Six hundred?” I had no idea what drugs cost, and I was only prepared to pay around a hundred.

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