Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Her lips curved.
Yes, Ezra was a moron.
“And you were also correct about Lance,” Rus continued. “He was freaked, admitted to sleeping with her, and knew, since he did and people knew about it, he’d be a suspect before the first set of cops came to ask him questions.”
Rus took another sip from his beer before he went on.
“The weird thing about that guy was, even though he has no alibi, and he was adamant that he had nothing to do with her death, I got the vibe off him he was getting some thrill out of being a suspect. Or at least being questioned.”
“Lance is gay and fucking my doorman. But if his father found out, he’d lose his mind and cut Lance out of an inheritance that’s probably around ten million, but it’ll be more by the time that particular bigot leaves this earth. Lance is not in Seattle with his family. Instead, he’s here, so he can secretly be who he is with less chance of getting caught. But he openly flirts with burlesque dancers, and sleeps with them to seal the deal, just in case anyone asks. You questioning him because he had sex with the victim might get back to his dad, which would prove he’s heterosexual, when he is not. However, if things got concerning for him, he’d pull a rabbit out of a hat, because he’s active. Barrett isn’t the only one he’s sleeping with, and no doubt he has an alibi. Just not one he’s willing to produce until his choice is outing himself, or prison.”
Barrett was her theater doorman.
“So, if it’s either of them, you lean toward Ezra?”
She looked to a view that was now purple and midnight blue, the rapids a moving shadow and stars twinkling in the sky.
She took a sip of her drink.
She put it down.
“How did she die?” she asked the window.
“Lucinda.”
She turned to him. “He’s into kink.”
Right then.
Here we go.
“What kind?”
“Pain. His.”
“So, receiving.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I have a friend who has a certain clientele and a well outfitted room in her basement. He’s a regular.”
“Will she talk to me?”
“Doubtful.”
Fuck.
“If you asked pretty please?” he pressed.
Her lips quirked. “I’ll try.”
That was his girl.
“Did he ask this of Brittanie?”
“He brought equipment and requested she use it on him. She tried her best, but it wasn’t her thing. This was when she broke things off with him.”
“Do you know how many times she was with him?”
“No, but it was more than once. Enough he got comfortable and tried to groom her into something she wasn’t interested in. However, unless I’m mistaken, it didn’t last long.”
“Do you know if she threatened him with what she knew? Maybe to tell his wife?”
She shook her head. “I would have told you that already if she did. But he wasn’t that important to her. He wasn’t like Jace. He was a man who gave her attention. Made her feel pretty. Made her feel wanted. Regardless, she’d never do that. She lives in this town. The coven’s OGs were thorough with their revenge. Against my advice, Britt was sleeping with a married man. More than one. But she’d never, ever expose herself like that. Not in Misted Pines.”
He was surprised. “So the coven goes after women?”
“The coven is ever changing and growing. The originals were not fans of Audrey, and for a reason. But to my recollection, they never went after her. However, what it is now isn’t under their control. Though, Wendy, one of the OGs, moved into that neighborhood with them. If they have a leader, it’s her. The top dog OG, Lana, is loved up and living with her lover. She’s out.”
That was less surprising.
“You have to be single to be in the coven?”
“You have to use men like they use women to be in the coven. You can play. You can share. But you can’t keep.”
“If these women discovered Brittanie was sleeping with married men, would they retaliate?”
She shook her head again, but said, “I’ve no idea. But I’d lean toward no. They come here. To the club. They drink. They eat. They watch the show. On occasion, they pick up toys and take them home. They’re big tippers and respectful, of me and my staff. I don’t equate big tips and respect to a female business owner with budding murderers.”
“So what is this? A loose bunch of women who live close to each other and share a set of rules?”
“Good question. No one knows. You have to be a part of their crew to know. That said, it isn’t a bunch of women who live close to each other. They own a neighborhood, Rus. It’s small, upper middle-income homes, maybe twenty-five of them. It was built around five years ago. The first women who came to town bought houses for sale in that development. I think it was a fluke. They got to talking. Maybe did some mild recruiting. Somehow, probably the internet, they became known. The rest either bought other houses that went up for sale or offered the owners a price they couldn’t refuse. I don’t know how many of them there are, exactly. Maybe fifteen. Seventeen. But they all live in that neighborhood. I haven’t been there, but it’s my understanding most of the other houses are for sale.”