Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Fine, then I’ll drag you.” For a second, I hardly recognize the sound of my own voice. Not having Kenzie to lean on has definitely forced me to be more assertive.
I boost myself over the fence and drop down onto the grass. Thankfully the gate is situated far enough toward the front of the house that no one in the backyard can see us.
Cal sighs heavily on the other side of the fence. “You gonna make me climb this damn thing, baby girl?”
I unlock the gate and step aside so he can pass through.
“Remind me to give you a good, hard spanking later,” he says.
Peering around the corner of the house, I scan the patio until my gaze catches on Steph sunbathing topless on a wicker lounger. The glassy surface of the pool sparkles, undisturbed. No sign of Mr. Heartwell, or their sons.
I start marching before Cal has a chance to tell me to wait here.
“Where is she?” I shout.
Steph practically jumps out of her chair, slapping her hands over her pink breasts. She could really use more sunblock.
“What the hell?” she snaps. “You can’t be back here, this is private property.”
“Where is my friend?”
“What friend? Who the hell are you?” She rips off her sunglasses and turns toward the house. “Ronald!”
“We just have a few questions for you ma’am.” Cal grabs a towel off a lawn chair, tosses it to Steph, then takes a gentle—yet firm—hold of my wrist. “You attended a party two nights ago at Russel King’s house, did you not?”
Awareness flashes in her eyes. She studies me again, and I can almost pinpoint the exact moment when she remembers who I am.
“You.” She jabs her sunglasses in my direction. “You’re McKenzie’s uptight friend.” She points to Cal. “And who are you, a cop?”
“Not today, I’m afraid. Just a concerned citizen looking for a missing girl.”
“The hell are you talking about?” Steph says. “Who’s missing?”
“McKenzie never came home,” I say.
“She probably got her money and took off.” She glares at me. “Loyalty isn’t a quality girls like McKenzie are known for.”
I’m about to take a swing at her when Cal’s grip tightens on my wrist. “Now that we’ve established you were in fact at King’s party, perhaps you can tell us where you sent McKenzie off to.”
Steph wraps the towel around herself. “If you’re not here in an official capacity, officer whatever, then I don’t have to talk to you. Goddamn it, Ronald!”
“That’s Detective Whatever to you, ma’am.” Cal sits down on a nearby recliner and rests his elbows on his knees. “Now, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that multiple young women and girls have turned up missing after attending Russell King’s private events.”
“I don’t know anything about those girls,” Steph says.
I fold my arms across my chest, glaring daggers at her. “You know McKenzie.”
“Holly here can attest that you were the one who hired both girls to attend King’s party. Now, I’d hate for an accessory charge to land in your backyard, especially if you had nothing to do with McKenzie’s disappearance.”
“Of course I had nothing to do with it,” she says. “Why aren’t you asking Russell these questions. It was at his house after all.”
“He said you’re the one to ask about it,” Cal says.
I’ve got to admit, his poker face is impressive.
Steph squints. “He did?”
“He said you were in charge of the whole thing,” I add.
“That’s a load of shit,” Steph barks. “I work for Russell. He pays me to find girls to attend his parties, and I pay them to show up looking hot. It’s not solicitation because I’m not paying them for sex. Just attendance.”
“Why don’t you walk me through the process,” Cal says, leaning back in the chair. “Just so I have a clearer picture of where your job ends and Russell’s begins.”
Steph sighs, grabs a joint from a table close by and lights up. “It’s medicinal. I get migraines.”
Cal waves his hand. “By all means.”
She puffs at the joint a couple of times, exhales. “I send a driver to pick up the girls at a central location and take them to the party. They hang out, mingle, give the guests something nice to look at while they smoke their cigars and laugh about who’s made more millions this quarter.”
“How are the girls paid?” Cal asks. I wonder if he already knows most of this information. If he does, he’s doing a good job playing ignorant.
“Depending on how many girls we bring in—”
“Who’s we?” Cal asks.
“Women like me, who Russell hires to find girls willing to drink free booze and get felt up by men old enough to be their grandfathers.” She takes another puff and looks at me. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you there aren’t a lot of opportunities for girls to make good money in this town. It’s a decent gig. Nobody has to get naked if they don’t want to, though some do decide to...let loose.”