Page 70 of The Devil's Dilemma

I didn’t want to disturb them any more than I’d done already, so I grabbed the bag Dante had packed and my laptop and returned to the bedroom.

I dressed quickly and, sitting on the bed, logged onto my laptop and opened Messenger.

“What’s the Wi-Fi code?” I shouted.

“Here.” Conrad handed me a piece of paper. “It’s on here.”

“Oh, cheers.” I input the code and was bombarded by an influx of messages, most from Freddie and Pete.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Why haven’t you come home?”

Questions, questions, and more questions.

I scoured the messages for anything about Joel, but nothing popped up. Social media had no further insights either. Strange, considering how he’d died. I knew Conrad had moved the body; he’d told Dante as much.

I sat back against the wall. What the fuck was going on?

Should I message Pete? A message from Freddie appeared.

Freddie: Austin? Is that you?

Who the fuck else would it be? But I tamped down my irritation and responded.

Austin: Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?

Freddie: Yeah. Wondering where you are. Am having bad dreams.

Austin: What kind?

Freddie: I keep seeing Joel dead and you shooting him. You didn’t, did you?

Fuck. I thought they’d wiped his memory.

Austin: I didn’t shoot him. Where is he?

Freddie: Nobody knows. He disappeared like you did. Can we meet somewhere?

Dante had me locked down so tight I wasn’t sure I could get away. I had to try, though, for Freddie’s sake.

Austin: Sure. Where are you now?

Freddie: I’m at home, but I could meet you at the park. You know, where we used to go. I need to get out of the house.

Austin: Sure. I can be there in an hour.

What excuse could I use? The easiest and most believable would be Grandpa, but even if Dante allowed me to go, he’d no doubt send someone with me.

That meant giving them the slip.

I had to try, though. I’d known Freddie far longer than Dante, and he needed my help.

I sauntered back into the lounge and leant casually against the wall.

“I need to go see Grandpa. I’ll not be long and be back in an hour.”

Dante frowned, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

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