explained.
So, instead, they smoked more rock.
When the crack was gone, Danny revisited that earlier idea. He was fixated on the money he believed his mother had hidden. He could not let it go. With the fever of crack he started smoking earlier that day running through his blood, Danny wanted more. He needed more.
“Look, there’s like two hundred or three hundred dollars stashed somewhere in the house,” he explained. “We just need to find it.” He sounded like he was sending everyone on a treasure hunt.
It was enough money, Danny knew, to buy a lot of dope—enough to last well into the next day. Plus, dangling that much rock in front of them—after giving the girls a taste—he could get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. Though he wasn’t telling anyone, Danny also had a plan to get rid of George so he could be all alone with Sommer and Heather.
They all went about “ransacking” the house in search of the money.
When they failed to find any cash, there came a point when Danny “began to get real violent” with George, Sommer said. A switch had flipped in Danny. He had gone from hunting down money, willing to buy cocaine for everyone, to a pulsating maniac, blaming everyone around him for not being able to purchase more rock.
Danny soon went after George, charging at him, saying quite angrily, “I’ll shoot you, man. I’ll whip your ass, stab . . . cut . . . kill you!”
He was in a violent rage. He was a different person. He had suddenly turned into that guy everyone had heard about: the violent sociopath who just didn’t give two shakes about anyone else when a volcanic fury, pent up inside, erupted. He had turned, just like that, into a monster that didn’t care about anybody but himself and his needs.
Danny locked George out of the house after accusing him of finding and stealing that money.
“Please, Danny,” Sommer pleaded. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting the fuck out of here,” Heather announced. Heather and Sommer were scared. Danny was seething. Something had come over him from deep within. Heather had not seen this side of him. Not ever.
George, who had found a stash of booze earlier, was blasted drunk, coming down from a crack high. Now he was locked outside.
Total chaos had exploded within the blink of an eye.
“It’s freezing cold out there, Danny,” Sommer said. “Please.” She put on her shoes. “I’m just gonna walk home if you ain’t gonna let George back in.”
Danny approached the door and stood before it; then he opened the door and motioned with his hand for George to come back in.
“You sit on that couch,” he said in a clenched-jaw, gruff voice. It was clear he meant what he said. Here was a guy who had been in and out of prison all his life and learned the hard way how to take care of himself. He didn’t muck around when it pertained to getting his way: Danny Hembree always struck first.
“You do not move and you do not leave this living room,” he said as George sat down. “You fucking understand me?”
Danny Hembree was impatient and furious, more so because he couldn’t find that money and needed to get high. Paranoid, he also mentioned again and again that perhaps George or one of the girls had found the money and kept it.
Sommer ran over and sat down next to her boyfriend, now concerned that George was going to say something to Danny that he didn’t mean.
Heather and Danny, after he suggested it, continued to search the house for the money.
“Look, it has to be here somewhere,” he said.
By now, it was after midnight.
“Let’s go,” Danny ordered after the latest search proved fruitless.
“Where we going?” Heather asked.
He explained, and then added, “Alone, just you and me.”
Heather looked at him. She thought about it.
“I’ll be back,” she told Sommer. “I’m going with Danny.”
CHAPTER 27
H ensley and his colleagues kept a close eye on Danny Hembree as he sat on the couch inside Nick’s
L. E. Modesitt
Karen Lopp
R. L. Stine
Once a Scoundrel
Deja King
Elizabeth Hunter
Mary Higgins Clark
Josep Maria de Sagarra
Debra Sheridan
Susan Patron