Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (23 page)

“Why, is he still fucking that young thing? You know that you owe it to yourself not to fight a losing battle if she’s actually the real deal for him,” Brigitte offered, then paused. “Or is it something that only has to do with him passingly? Like the very reason for your return to the city?”

I held her gaze as evenly as I could, which meant that my eyes were flittering away every few seconds. My voice was raw and pressed as I finally managed to reply.

“I think we both know that I didn’t come back on anyone’s behest except to further my own agenda. Maybe I’ve managed to lie to myself for a month or two, but admit it. You saw right through me the day I stepped back into your hallowed halls.”

Her features held some of that pain that she rarely let anyone else see—true compassion and sympathy for a woman who, like her, knew that love just wasn’t a thing a prostitute could have as easily as other women.

“You wouldn’t have wanted to hear me say it. But I tried,” she offered.

I had to look away for good now, but did my best not to let my shoulders slump.

“The girl shouldn’t be a problem anymore. But that doesn’t exactly make things easier for me.”

“Have you talked to that agent yet? Is that it? They graduated from pressuring you to do their bidding into full-on blackmail? You know that I have lawyers who—“

“No, that’s not it,” I replied. “Although I do expect that she will try to do exactly that once she learns how things have shifted.”

“And where exactly are they now?” she asked, her voice perceptively gentle. Was she testing the waters? My paranoia came up with a slew of reasons for why she wouldn’t trust what I’d said.

Making myself catch and hold her gaze, I forced conviction into my voice that came surprisingly easy. “I’m done letting other people play and manipulate me. I’m better than that.”

It was an evasive answer that told her nothing, but my attitude alone seemed to be deserving of a smile.

“That we can both agree on,” Brigitte said. “I would just have preferred it if you’d given me a heads-up that you needed a few days off to get your head screwed on straight.”

I wondered if that was a deliberate slip of the tongue, but didn’t ask.

“I am truly sorry for that. And I’m afraid that, just maybe, I won’t be the most reliable person over the next few days, either. There are still some things to sort out before I can hopefully leave this all behind me.”

“Then take the time and do that,” Brigitte advised. “You’re no use to anyone if you can’t even pick up the phone, and I need you sharp as a razor’s edge for this. Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind about wanting to run my operation in the future?”

That was about the only thing I was sure of. Shaking my head, I replied, “No. I’m all in.”

“Good. Are you going to stay for the meeting? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“I don’t remember the last time I slept through an entire night,” I admitted, then snorted. “But that’s not going to keep me from the pleasantries. But I would appreciate it if you’d take the lead. I know that I’ve neglected the girls—“

Her annoyed sound made me cut off right there.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They are old enough to take care of themselves,” she said. “Besides, that paycheck was fat enough that they could easily spend a week in a spa for recovery. Recovery that two of them don’t even need, and I’m not a hundred percent sure if Pam’s not just being a hypochondriac about things to use this as the final excuse to quit.”

“If she doesn’t, it won’t be long,” I replied. “I thought this was a fitting parting gig for her. To bolster her conviction that she’s over it and there’s nothing holding her back.” Like Brigitte had done for me with Ray, even if I only now realized that. I still resented her decision, but I was starting to see that things were yet more complicated than I’d thought. That reminded me all too starkly that there likely were other things I’d ignored that had been important, too. Would this never end? I was so sick of this uncertainty.

“Hold on to whatever thought just put that steel into your spine,” she advised as she turned to return to the girls. “You do remember what I told you a few days ago? Do what’s best for you first. Then you can help others. That is what people who have to watch out for others do. You can’t help them if you can’t even help yourself.”

That was probably the best food for thought that anyone had ever offered me. Be selfish. Do what needs to be done—for you. Already I could feel some of the tendrils of confusion fall into place rather than remain tangled up in the layers of problems that were piling up in front of me. It was also surprisingly close to what Darren had told me to do. That he and Brigitte agreed on something for once was eerie enough—but it probably made sense. They were both ruthless bastards in their own right—and I probably would have to join those ranks if I wanted to play with the big guns.

Sadly, my newfound conviction had barely time to settle before it got upended again, in the form of the elevator doors opening just as I joined the others, spilling a raging fury and her people into the suddenly much more crowded space of Brigitte’s boudoir.
 

I had a moment to exchange looks with my former madam, whatever she saw on my face calming the sudden look of panic on hers. Then I had to turn around and face the music. Literally, almost, from how Agent Smith came stalking toward me, bellowing at the top of her lungs.

“You fucking cunt! I told you that your plan would end in disaster, and that’s exactly what happened!”

My heart beat a mile a minute, but I forced myself to appear only moderately rattled. After all, just because I could guess what this was about didn’t mean I knew—and even if I’d been completely oblivious, that entrance would have both alarmed and annoyed me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, not bothering with niceties. “And how do you dare talk to me like that?”

From the corner of my eye I saw several of the girls shy back, panic spreading like a wildfire among them. I’d had the dubious pleasure of being part of a few police raids in my time, and that was never anything pleasant—even if they let you walk away after only intimidating the shit out of you. I couldn’t fault the girls for jumping to the wrong conclusions.

Agent Smith either didn’t care about my attempt at damage control, or plain didn’t see what her behavior was causing.

“What is this about?” Brigitte asked, more measured than I could have as she stepped up beside me. “Who are you, and why do you think you have a right to invade my private residence?”

“Private my ass. This is a fucking whorehouse,” the agent pressed out between gritted teeth. She got almost identical looks of scorn from Brigitte and me.

“Excuse me, but no illicit or indecent acts have ever happened here. I have to ask you to leave immediately, or I will call security,” Brigitte said, widening her eyes ever so slightly in my direction—a sure sign that she intended to do that this very second, which left me about a minute to either defuse the situation or take it elsewhere.

Agent Smith didn’t even ignore Brigitte’s objection but continued to hammer me with her overly loud bullshit.

“I will talk to you any way I want,” she huffed.

I almost told her that the last woman who’d thought that was a good idea had ended up dead in a ditch, but thankfully managed to hold that back. It served as the perfect reminder that I needed to be more careful now.

“Is there any reason why you’re storming in here like a raging stampede?” I asked. “I thought I’d made it abundantly clear that I will not allow our business to infringe on my other work. Which, as I remember, was actually your idea. Do you really think you can keep your little sting operation under cover if you blow up in front of a good twenty witnesses?”

That made her shut up, although her face took on a pinched look. I took that moment to turn around and make a calming gesture at the girls.

“Don’t worry, I got this covered. This is nothing that concerns any of you. Just forget any of this happened, and I’m sure that the nice agents will forget ever having seen any of you, right?”

The last I directed at Agent Michaels, who, as usual, didn’t bat an eyelash, but also refrained from looking anywhere near the sitting area at the other side of the room.

My peacekeeping mission was rudely interrupted by the elevator doors opening yet again, this time to reveal the downstairs doorman, flanked by two security guards. What they could have done against the eight agents and one disgruntled hacker, I didn’t know, but you wouldn’t have guessed it from how important the trio made themselves out to be.

“Thank you for being so quick about this,” Brigitte cooed at them. “I think the agents were about to leave?”

“Do you have a search warrant?” one of the security guards barked.

It was rather satisfying to watch as Agent Smith’s ire seamlessly transferred from me to him, but the grim set of her mouth told me that she technically had no right to be here. I shouldn’t have gotten quite such a kick out of that. Instead of answering, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and thrust a stack of printouts at me. I didn’t need to look at them to know what they were—crime scene photos. But I couldn’t not watch, the contrast of the white snow, churned up earth and bright red blood too vivid to look away. If I hadn’t known that this had to be Daliah’s body, I could never have recognized her.

“What is this?” I said, my slightly strangled voice sounding appropriately disgusted. “Why are you showing this to me?”

“This,” Agent Smith said, flailing around with the photos even more, “is what remains of the woman you were charged to protect!”

Brigitte blanched, and I could tell that the cogs inside her head were spinning. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together—and even if she didn’t suspect that I had anything to do with this, my frazzled state must have made it abundantly clear that I’d already known that this had happened. Her, I couldn’t so easily lie to, not that I’d tried. Agent Smith, now, was a different affair.

“Last time I looked, you were the agent, and I the civilian,” I told her, my voice cold as ice. “Isn’t it your sworn duty to help those that cannot help themselves? I have agreed to help you in the past because, if not nice, you at least tried to be civil to me. If you change your attitude, nothing keeps me from changing mine. Good day, Agent Smith. You may call on me again—at my home, in private—once you have gotten a grip on yourself, but you will leave now. I have nothing more to say to you.”

I could tell that she would have loved to go after me, but in front of more than thirty witnesses, that was a sure way to get herself demoted at best, and fired most likely.

“This isn’t over yet,” she hissed at me, stabbing at me with the photos again.

“Of course it isn’t,” I agreed with her. “Now go.”

We all watched in silence as her people piled back into the elevator, the two guards joining them. Adam was the last one to step in, sending me a pleading look, but I ignored him. The doorman remained behind, looking highly uncomfortable as it was. When Brigitte raised her brows at him, he turned to me instead.

“Ms. Thompson, there is a Detective Donahue from the Chicago PD waiting downstairs. He asked me to inquire whether you’d have a minute to talk to him?”

I was surprised that the police hadn’t charged in like this also, but I had a certain feeling that, just maybe, the good detective had done his homework and had a sense of just how large the anthill was that he was about to poke.

“Thank you for letting me know. Please tell the detective that I will be down in a minute.”

The doorman nodded and got in the elevator as soon as it was back. I waited until the doors closed behind him before I turned to Brigitte.

“Want me to call a lawyer?” she offered in that no-nonsense kind of way that told me that she wouldn’t tolerate a negative answer.

“No, thank you,” I said, immediately launching into my explanation. “I’m not going to answer any questions where I could incriminate myself, don’t worry. And should I feel the need for representation, I have an entire black book on my short list, as you very well know.”

The brief smile she flashed me told me that she was actually proud of me—the first pleasant surprise of the day, really.

“You do that. If they only give you one call, call me. I’ll make sure that everything is taken care of before you can get bored in a holding cell.”

I hugged her briefly, desperately needing the human contact to align my inner turmoil with the tough facade I’d donned. Inside, I was both shaking with fear and screaming with anguish—but outside I was calm and collected, with only a hint of nerves showing. After all, that was only appropriate in a situation like this.

Then I grabbed my coat and purse and stepped into the elevator, ready to face whatever the world would sling in my face.

Detective Donahue turned out to be younger than I’d expected, only a few years my senior. He was wearing a tan coat over his suit, the tie knotted perfectly, his short salt-and-pepper hair lending him an air of sophistication that I wouldn’t have associated with someone of his chosen profession. His eyes were alert and missed nothing, I was sure, snagging to mine immediately as soon as I stepped out of the elevator.

“Ms. Thompson,” he more stated than asked as I came to a halt in front of him, shaking his offered hand. “I’m Detective Donahue, with the Chicago police department. May I ask you a few questions, if this isn’t a bad time for you?”

Very polite, but I didn’t quite buy it. He definitely subscribed to the creed that you could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar—but as I had no reason to get grumpy with him, I inclined my head.

“Of course. I’m just surprised that you would come here to look for me.” He must have seen the stampede of agents pass, but I hoped that the police didn’t have a tracker in my phone, too.

“I was told that I might find you here,” he offered. “Would you mind coming down to the precinct with me?”

I’d expected as much, even if it made me uncomfortable.

“Am I a suspect in whatever you are investigating?”