Had Rufus hit bottom?
Had he burned bridges at the job he talked about blowing off? Had that failure led to others? Was that how he wound up here?
Wren felt an ache in his heart for Rufus, a keening that made him want to draw Rufus back to him so he could console him, so he could take care of him, much as he had once done with Linda.
Odd thought, that.
The second thing Wren wondered—worried—about was whether the bad news Chillingsworth had delivered had sent Rufus out into the night in search of his seductive and destructive mistress, cocaine. Wren had always been sensible enough to stay away from drugs himself, maybe because even in his short life, he had seen enough of his friends brought down by their fickle charms. Only last year he had watched his buddy Trent go from looking like a rough-and-tumble beefy football player to a hollow-eyed, missing-tooth waif in the space of only a year. Trent had been ensnared by crystal meth.