Page 122 of Trouble Comes in Threes

“I need names, Scott.”

He shook his head. “I want to help you, but I can’t rat anyone else out. Sorry.”

I could tell by the set of his jaw he wasn’t budging, only it wasn’t loyalty keeping his lips sealed. It was fear. I couldn’t blame him for doubting my statement of knowing powerful people who could help him. I could use the Lady in Black card, but there was a chance he wouldn’t know who she was. Not to mention, I still preferred to leave her in the closet buried in moth balls. I’d hand this information over to Dermot and let him see to the rest.

“Did Derby ever let teenagers into the bar?” I asked.

He blinked in surprise. “Yeah, sometimes.”

“What’s the youngest he’d allow?”

“Seventeen or so. He didn’t like much younger because they didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

“Good to know he had some scruples,” I said sarcastically.

It went over his head, and he nodded agreeably.

“Any of them named Austin or Justin?”

He considered it a moment, then shook his head. “Not that I recall.”

“You’ve only mentioned men, but I presume he lets women into the bar.”

He laughed. “Half the guys wouldn’t be there if he didn’t.”

“Did you ever meet a woman named Selena?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

I pulled out my phone and showed him the image of the woman from my vision. “Did you ever see this woman there?”

He leaned closer. “No. Can’t say that I have.” He squinted, then glanced up at me. “Hey, she sort of looks like you. Is she your sister or somethin’?”

“No.” I swiped to the next image. “What about him?”

He made a face and leaned back. “He looks like one mean bastard.”

“He is. Ever seen him?”

“No.”

I was equally relieved and disappointed. “You sure?”

“Trust me. I’d remember if I’d crossed paths with him.”

“What about the guy who convinced Harvey and the other two to sell for him? Could this be him?”

He shook his head before lifting his gaze to mine. “That ain’t no low-level lookin’ guy, and anyone going into bootleg bars trying to get average guys to sell drugs for them is low level.”

He had a point.

Did the guy from Texas work for the man in my vision?

Scott Van de Camp was filling in some of the blanks for me, but I didn’t feel any closer to saving the woman in my vision.

“Can you think of anything else that might help me find Harvey’s murderer?”

“No.” He shook his head, looking sick. “I can’t believe someone killed him.”

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