“What’s his name?”
“Paul.”
“And where is Paul?”
I gritted my teeth together. “He’s in jail,” I said, without mincing my words.
“Hmm…interesting,” Detective Jones nodded. “What is he servin
g time for?”
“Drug possession and drug dealing.”
“I see.”
“My brother being a drug dealer doesn’t make me one,” I pointed out.
“No, but sometimes these things, they run in the family.”
Before I could respond, there was a tap on the door, and Detective Jones stood up and left the room without another word. I sat there, wondering how on earth all those drugs ended up in my apartment. This couldn’t just be a coincidence—this couldn’t just be a random sequence of events. Whoever had put those drugs in my closet knew me. Something was nagging in the back of my head, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again, but this time a familiar face walked through. The sight of Officer Manolo made me feel just a tiny bit relieved. He closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair that Detective Jones had just vacated.
“Officer Manolo,” I said, looking him right in the eye. “I didn’t do it.”
Manolo’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though he were trying to figure out whether I was lying to him or not. After a moment he sighed. “I don’t think you’re capable of doing something like this,” he said.
“So, you believe I’m innocent?”
“I do—and make no mistake, I’m going by instinct alone,” he told me. “Which is not something that will carry much weight with anyone else here. We need more than just my instincts to get you out of this. We need proof that you were set up.”
“It has to be someone I know,” I said quickly. “Because they managed to get into my apartment without actually breaking and entering. There was no disruption, nothing out of the ordinary, and the drugs would have had to be in my closet for a few days at—”
I stopped abruptly as suddenly the puzzle pieces came together in my head and I realized who it was that had framed me.
“Phil?” I heard Manolo’s voice call my name as if from a great distance.
I remembered that day, months ago now, when Manolo had stopped me for my broken taillight. He had let me off the hook out of respect for the work I did and the role I played in keeping the community safe, but I had hidden something from him that day. I remembered vividly, seeing the bag of pot fall out of Brent’s front jacket pocket and cursing him in my head for putting me in this situation in the first place.
I remembered going to his apartment and flushing the pot down the drain. He had been a little annoyed with me, but he hadn’t freaked out like I had assumed he would. It was almost as though he had a larger stash hidden somewhere, so the loss of the pot he had left with me was not a great loss.
Then I recalled the so-called “business” he kept talking about. He never gave me any details about it; he hadn’t even given Megan many details. He was always so shady. Megan had said so herself.
And then another little detail hit me, and I felt goosebumps erupt on my hands. Detective Jones had told me that the drugs had been found in my closet. I remembered Megan mentioning to me that Brent’s closet was always locked. It was the only place in the whole apartment that seemed to be completely off-limits to everyone apart from Brent. Everything connected in my head, and suddenly, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the person that was responsible for setting me up.
The saddest part of all of it was that I wasn’t surprised.
“Phil?” Manolo’s voice was louder this time.
“I think I know who did it,” I said.
Manolo frowned. “Who?”
“I have this friend. His name is Brent Jacobs,” I said. “I met him a few years ago. I know he smokes pot, but I thought that was the extent of it. He quit his job a few months ago to start his own ‘business.’ Except no one really knows what his business is in the first place.”
Manolo nodded. “You think he’s the dealer?”
“He could have gotten into my apartment easily enough. He paid attention when he wanted to, and he would have known that I keep a spare key under my mat outside my front door.”