Dining Room
8:11 P.M.
After dinner, Range and Dalton went outside to smoke. Phillip found his way to the bathroom on the second floor where I believed he was snorting coke, an addiction that he’d been battling for the last year. To my surprise, Gray and Toby snuck away like little boys to have a private conversation in the living room.
Leaving the dirty dishes on the mahogany table, I stood discreetly near the living room entrance and tried to eavesdrop, but I heard nothing more than murmuring and the occasional laugh or throat clearing. They chatted for a minute or so, and I was desperate to know what they were sharing. My hearing was tuned to a sonar level, but I couldn’t hear their exchange. They might as well have been speaking a foreign language.
I decided to interrupt the two men
