Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
When we were on the loading dock, he appeared so lonesome. Like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The way he caught me when I stumbled was gentle. Protective. Yet, the way he manhandled that man with dangerously controlled movements suggests he’s not one to underestimate.
But if it is him, why would he murder his employees?
I can’t stop staring at his photo, at his eyes that I swear can see straight through me even though this is a picture. The eyes that ate me up when we were alone together out on the dock. The same eyes I can’t stop seeing every time I close mine.
What’s my problem?
I need to stop obsessing over the enemy.
I glance over my shoulder before I get in my car to make certain I’m not being followed by anyone. Lately, when I leave my house for work each day, I feel like there’s somebody watching me, but it could be the negative energy of working at a club where women are being targeted.
It makes me cautious, even more so since I’m on my way to meet Finn.
I hop in my Volkswagen and take the path Katherine gave me when I first took this assignment. Drive through town, turn left at the Handy-Mart, go to the outskirts of Saint Pierce, and circle around a few times to assure no one is following before I park my car under a small overpass. And wait.
It’s the waiting that makes my nerve endings tingle.
Finn and I decided to meet on Sundays because it’s Club Greed’s day of rest. Even sinners take a break. The sun peeks over the horizon as I head toward my rendezvous with Finn, and usually, I’d admire the vibrant splashes of oranges and yellows splattered across the sky, but my mind is still trying to process everything that happened last night at the club. The way Devereaux’s eyes crashed into mine when he whispered my new name, Swan.
Finn arrives fifteen minutes after me and parks his white Durango next to mine. I slip out of my car and slide into the soft leather front seat of his.
“Anything to report?” Finn asks, getting right down to business. He’s not known for his chitchat, and I don’t think he’s ever asked me anything about myself. Not that I care to know anything personal about him either.
“Good morning to you too,” I say. “I’m doing good. Thanks for asking.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s too early for pleasantries. Anything to report?”
“I’ve asked all the cocktail servers for their take on Devereaux, and it’s always the same answer. He doesn’t talk much. But I found something interesting.” I shift in my seat.
“We questioned Julie’s roommate and found out she had a major thing for Devereaux.”
“Thing? What kind of thing?” My heart pounds in anticipation of his answer.
“We questioned Devereaux about it.”
My heart is at risk of having a heart attack with how quickly it beats. “You did? What did he say?” I almost wish I could have been there while they were questioning him.
“He said he never acted on it. Said he’s never done anything with his employees.”
I want to breathe a sigh of relief and that reaction has me questioning why I’m happy he did nothing with Julie. Yet, is he telling the truth?
Can we even believe anything he says?
“What about Benedict Cole?” I ask, changing the subject.
Finn shakes his head. “He’s a priest.”
Not something I was expecting him to say. “What? He is?” I think back to the night I saw him in the club, remembering him dressed all in black. “He wasn’t dressed like one. Don’t they normally wear the white cuff thingy?”
Finn shrugs. “He’s over at Saint Ignatius Loyola.”
“Never heard of it.”
“We paid him a visit.”
“And?” I ask, waiting on the edge of my seat for the answer.
“And nothing, kid. He says he’s not a member. There’s no way to say he’s lying without giving you up, so I’ve got Geneva following him.”
“How long has she been following him?”
“Few days.”
“Find out anything?”
Finn laughs. “Yeah, he’s a boring motherfucker.”
I shift in my seat so I’m facing the front windshield. “I can’t believe he’s a priest.” In his defense, he joins none of the action, so maybe he’s doing something innocent in that room upstairs.
Like praying?
Highly doubtful, but you never know.
I need to find out.
“Have you been able to get any info from Devereaux Huxley?”
“I hardly ever see him.” Just a few quick interactions that have left me completely out of breath and more confused than I was before they happened. They’re really not the type of interactions I’d tell Finn about. “He intervened when some guy got a little rough with me.”
“Rough how?” Finn asks.
“Nothing like that. I’m still a cocktail server, but this guy was getting too handsy, and Devereaux stopped it. Pulled him off me. He was angry. Furious. Almost beat the living shit out of him.” A part of me doesn’t want to tell him about Devereaux practically beating the man up.