my bed, staring at the floor.
"Jump," I said.
Instead of jumping, he lay down on his back and put his tongue out.
"Come on." I patted my thighs. "Jump. You can do it. Your little old dog knees can take it, I know it."
He stuck his tongue out farther. He was the smartest dog in the world. I lifted him off the bed and put him down on the floor.
"Do you need to go for a walk?" I knew training him to pee in the litter box was probably a long process. And I didn't have time to be a good dog mom right now. I was in the middle of a felony. Besides, I didn't want to go visit Noah right now. He needed to stew in his lies. I still couldn't believe he lied to me just to see me in my underwear. As far as I was concerned, he could starve to death. I just needed to figure out where to bury his stinky body. You're a kidnapper, not a murderer.
Snuggle Muffins whimpered.
"Okay, let me just change real quick. I need to grab something while we're out anyway."
The alcohol I'd forced into Noah's mouth hadn't worked last night. His lips were decidedly unloose. Just soft. And delicious. And masterful in the kissing department. Stop.
Alcohol wasn't the only substance I had at my disposal though. The suburbs weren't as straight-laced as everyone thought. The proof? I was a kidnapper. A couple of my neighbors were notorious murderers. The kid down the street stole lawn gnomes. And the teenager across the street from me sold drugs. Welcome to suburbia.
***
I knocked on the door and waited. I knew Sylvia Smith was at yoga. And her son who decided not to go to college, to the shock of his parents, would be home. He was always home. I was pretty sure he didn't even have a retail job to cover the trail of his illicit business dealings. Such a novice.
I knocked again when he didn't answer. I glanced at my watch. It was almost 10 am. He'd surely gotten his eight hours in. Come on, Logan. Get up. I knocked harder. Sometimes a car with tinted windows would pick him up. But they'd always come back in a few minutes. Pretty sure it was his dealer. I knocked again.
Finally Logan answered the door. His eyes were bloodshot and he was wearing a silk robe like he was at the Playboy mansion. He had one arm behind his back, but when he realized it was me, he pulled the joint into view and put it back in his mouth. "'Sup?" The joint hung from the corner of his mouth. If he wasn't careful, he'd burn his mother's oriental rug.
"Hey, Logan..."
"My mom's not home. Can I take a message?"
"What?" Sylvia and I weren't friends who called on each other. We also didn't have parlors or drink afternoon tea. "No. I'm here to see you. I need to buy some of that." I pointed to the joint.
He stared at me as smoke swirled in front of his face. "What? A cigarette?"
Did he seriously think I was as na茂ve as his mother? I was a freaking criminal now. I was part of his cool club. "Weed. Pot. Whatever you call it. I need some."
He pulled the joint from his mouth. "It's a cigarette."
"It doesn't smell like a cigarette to me."
He smiled.
I didn't smile back. "Fine. Do you have something else that will make someone confess their deepest darkest secrets?"
"Your dog is cute."
He isn't. And what does that have to do with anything? "Sell me what I need right now or I'll tell the cops." I wouldn't. But Logan didn't know that.
"Why do you think I sell drugs?"
"Because you've sold me drugs before." I realized I was raising my voice and tried to swallow down my impatience. How high was he the last time I came to see him?
"Nah, I would have remembered that."
God, I was going to kill him. I didn't have time for this. Detective Torres could show up at any time. And the last thing I needed was for him to see me buying drugs off of this kid. "Even if you don't remember... I'm...I'm a housewife. I see everything that goes on in this neighborhood. Including what you do."
"Huh. I'm home a lot too, you know. I see things."
I was pretty sure my heart stopped beating. What did he mean by that? Did he know that Noah was locked up in my basement? I'd