I started down the sidewalk but turned around after two steps and jogged back inside Owen's apartment building. Trent was on his way up the driveway. The fact that Jasper had found out Trent's connection to Owen and myself and still invited him creeped me out. He had to be up to something. I decided I had to go back upstairs and try one more time to get Owen out of there.
I headed up the back staircase and almost laughed out loud at myself. I was being ridiculous and tiptoeing. Maybe Owen was right and I was acting paranoid. I was debating heading home again when I came around the corner and stopped dead in my tracks.
Jasper was standing at their downstairs neighbor's door. The old man that lived there had always been very friendly. He had lived there for eight years and was close friends with the landlord. Lately, I knew he had told Owen about his car breaking down. He was retired and on a fixed budget and had asked Owen and Jasper if they could help him shop for a cheap car online. Owen had been happy to help him out.
Jasper and the neighbor were whispering back and forth. The neighbor had his phone out and the two checked their watches as they talked. Then Jasper handed him an envelope. The neighbor tucked his phone back in his pocket and checked the cash contents of the envelope.
I slipped back around the corner and stood there with my heart pounding. What on earth had I just seen?
"Hiding from me?" a voice asked.
I stifled a scream. When I whirled around and saw it was Trent, I slapped his arm hard. "Why are you sneaking up on me? What are you doing here?"
"Jasper invited me. Didn't he tell you we met? How's that for a coincidence? Though, I'd like to think maybe it was fate," Trent said. His normally flamboyant energy was subdued and even his smile was a lower wattage than normal.
"Fate? What are you talking about?" My heart was still in my throat.
"I miss you, Quinn. I know you've moved on and you don't really want to forgive me, but I have to know we can at least be friends," Trent said.
I peeked around the corner and was relieved when Jasper was gone. The neighbor's door was shut tight. "Alright, friend, help me figure out something," I said. "Let's say I have this other friend who keeps getting his apartment searched by the cops. Then I see his roommate paying off a neighbor with an envelope of cash."
"So, the roommate's setting up your friend," Trent said.
"But why?"
"You know you're sounding crazy, right?" Trent asked.
I pushed my hair back. "Yeah, I know. How about you just tell me how you and Jasper met, instead?"
"It was the night of that awful dinner party at your parents' house," Trent said.
I stifled another scream, this one of frustration. "You mean the dinner party that you brought your 'boy toy' to? You are the one that made it awful."
Trent shrugged. "Well, anyway, my 'boy toy,' as you call him, wanted to go out clubbing. Then it turns out he likes to get high, too. Before I know it, he's off dancing with this group of locals. Turns out one of them was Jasper. I mentioned Summerlin and he talked about living here with Owen. I put the rest together. Crazy, right?"
"Where did Nicky get the drugs?" I asked.
"Who?"
"Your 'boy toy,' Nicky? Where did he get the drugs?" I asked again more slowly.
"From the locals. Good stuff too. Maybe you should try some pot, it might mellow you out. Though I have to say you are looking really good."
"Do you think he got it from Jasper?" I asked.
"It wouldn't surprise me." Trent smiled, catching on. "Wait, is Owen your friend and Jasper the shady roommate that's paying off the neighbor? That makes so much sense."
"How does that make any sense?"
"If Jasper really is a drug dealer, then he has a built-in scapegoat with your boy Owen. It’s easy for people to believe a 'professional gamer' is a pothead that probably sells to his friends. So, when Jasper starts to feel a little heat, he moves on and leaves Owen to take the blame," Trent said.
"Oh my God, I have to find Owen," I said.
"Right behind you," Trent said. I waved him away, but he was never one to turn down a party invitation or the possibility of a scene.
Chapter Twenty
Quinn