Chapter 9
C assie
“Ty,” I commanded the attention of the bear. “Talk murder to me.”
The intercept guy’s blond eyebrows dove together, and he delivered a plate of sandwiches to the table. “Don’t shorten my name. I don’t like it.”
“Ye call me Cass.”
“You’re affectionate and cute. I’m very much not. Besides, no one uses your real name.”
I pointed at Riordan who’d grabbed a sandwich and chowed down like he’d been starved. “He does. He full-names me when he’s grumpy with me.”
Riordan pointedly ignored my tease. He’d fired questions at Tyler about whether there had been anyone seen nearby but had otherwise remained silent.
Tyler sighed. “Anyway, by murder, I assume you mean the Deadwater killings?”
“Bingo. I want your insight. I formed a detective club to solve the mystery and want to sense check what we know.”
“Of course you do.” He twisted his lips, his gaze distancing for a moment. “I’ve been far from the action so am playing catch-up, but when I heard about the first death, I figured it had the feel of either an obsessed man, a random act of aggression, or an initiation.”
I cocked my head. “Cherry had clients but none we can pinpoint as being obsessed. We also know it wasn’t random because of the three who came after, but what do you mean initiation?”
“Gangs and other secretive organisations often use a binding act to recruit new members, particularly to an inner circle. Some kind of proof the as-yet untrusted person isn’t there to betray them and that they’re a good fit.”
“Such as by creating a mutual secret both have to keep.”
He pointed a ham roll at me. “Exactly. Killing a defenceless sex worker in a graveyard fits the MO. Easy pickings, but jailtime for the perpetrator if the person they’re trying to impress squeals.”
My mind sped. “The first person we suspected was a man named Don who was a low-ranking member of the Four Milers. It makes sense that he would want to climb up the pecking order. But he was found dead in his burned-out car down the hill from where Cherry was killed.”
“Maybe he did it then sped off to report in and lost control? Then afterwards, you have a copycat.” Tyler took a large bite of his food.
I toyed with mine, gazing into the middle distance. “Or the Milers are recruiting several people and each had to do the same thing.” As explanations went, it didn’t feel strong, but a good detective was willing to consider anything.
“The Milers?” Tyler scoffed. “Don’t make the mistake of being casual with that fucking drugs gang. They would never be so with you.”
“What if Don isn’t dead?” Riordan suddenly said.
“Couldn’t they identify the body?” Tyler asked him.
“His cousin, by marriage, so not genetically, was the only relative he had, so they weren’t able to DNA test the remains. Nor could she identify the lump of charcoal that was left of him. I took her to talk to the police and pathologist myself.”
Insidious envy crawled through me yet again at Moniqua’s friendship with Riordan. A hit so hard I couldn’t reply.
“Have there been any sightings?” Tyler asked.
Riordan raised a shoulder. “None. It’s just bothering me that it’s a box left unticked.”
Tyler palmed his jaw but moved on. “The multiple-recruitment theory doesn’t necessarily stack up either. Killing as an entry requirement probably wouldn’t be mandated for anything but the top tier. Convict got accepted by drug dealing for them.”
There was an interesting note in his voice when he said his crewmember’s name. A hesitation, like it carried weight. Convict was a double agent, working for the Four Milers in order to win back the trust of Arran and Shade. For some unknown reason, Tyler was interested in him as well. I packed away that intrigue for now.
Tyler asked Riordan about his initiation into Arran’s gang—something I knew hadn’t really happened yet—and I took up my phone to send my thoughts on the conversation to my Skeleton Girls Detective Agency group.
Instant replies came in.
Genevieve: Super ooh! New theories for the list.
Everly: Interesting, but it doesn’t do anything to support B as a culprit.
She was right. I tapped back a reply.
Cassie: Only as a mastermind. Any update on his capture?
Genevieve: We’re not allowed to talk about it, even over encrypted chat.
Cassie: Rolling my eyes at Arran but okay. He’s probably right.
Genevieve: I also haven’t seen him in a day so literally have nothing to say.
I snorted a laugh.
Everly: We miss you. Is everything okay there?
If I’d hugged anyone but their brother, I probably would’ve launched into my feelings on that, along with a blow-by-blow of how I’d tormented him through the door, but I had a strange rush of protectiveness over the man. Even with them.
Cassie: I’m good. Stay safe.
Both ordered me the same, and I set down my phone, testing Tyler’s theory against Bronson’s possible motive. He was already high up in command. Did he want the top spot and therefore had been building a case to prove he’d earned it before overthrowing Red? Or could he be secretly recruiting killer members to help him seize control?
All questions to put to him when we had him in our grasp.
At the end of the table, Riordan, already done with a second loaded sandwich, sat back and regarded me. There was an interesting expression in his eyes. “I remembered something from two nights ago.”
I curled my legs under myself to face him. “Shoot.”
“Moniqua came to find me in the brothel.”
My lip formed a sneer. “Ugh. The ghoul.”
Tyler swung his gaze between us. “Why is Moniqua a ghoul?”
“She haunts Riordan.”
Tyler clucked his tongue with clear judgement. “And you let her blow you?”
At Riordan’s scowl, I cracked up. Tyler really had overheard everything I’d said in the hall.
Riordan ignored the tease. “She mentioned someone told her Alisha and I had been shut away in a room together.”
“Was she jealous?” I would’ve been, and I’d liked Alisha.
“I don’t think so, and that isn’t my point. What if someone was angry at Alisha for being with another man? They could’ve killed her for that.”
Tyler inclined his head, apparently in agreement.
“Got Moniqua’s number?” I asked. “I’ll ask her who was gossiping.”
Riordan watched me for a beat then found his phone and handed it over, unlocked, and with a call list on the screen. I braced myself for how he’d saved Moniqua. If it was under a cute tag, like Moni or Sidechick , I’d throw up.
But there was nothing with her name or anything resembling it. Gen, Ev, Arran, Shade. A few numbers without names.
He gestured at it. “Her number ends six-one. She told me that in the conversation where she asked for my help because the Four Milers had threatened her.”
Had to resist being the mean girl. “She was scared?”
“So she said.”
“I could find her a job in the warehouse? I’ll need to do the rotas soon so can fit her in.”
“I suggested that. She turned her nose up.”
“Probably because she wanted big strong Riordan to step up and protect her. Maybe letting ye fall on her mouth a few times, too.”
Tyler choked on a laugh. Riordan’s glower deepened.
After the conversation he’d just recalled, he’d let her sink to her knees and undo his jeans. Right in the middle of a brothel where people had sex all around me all day, that one act had threatened my very soul.
It had taken everything in me not to storm over and drag her out by her dyed-black hair. I’d walked away. A few hours later, when he came to find me, I’d kidnapped him.
Wow, that was as messed up as the telenovelas I adored.
Gritting my teeth, I held my thumb over her phone number. “If she’s really freaked out, she’ll take the offer.”
“Wait,” Riordan said.
I lifted my gaze to his. My cheeks burned.
He slid that dark gaze to Tyler.
The bear took the hint and jumped up. “Need to make a call. I won’t be far away. Don’t leave this room.”
At his exit, Riordan sat back. “You’re jealous of Moniqua. Why?”
Because her lips had been around his dick. Because she touched what was mine. I pouted and glared back. “What difference does it make?”
“I want to know.”
“So ye can tease me? Nice.”
The tormenting glimmer in his eyes didn’t cease. “Maybe I’ll give you a detailed description of what she felt like to make you run from me again.”
My breathing stuttered. Oh God. That had no right to be so hot, yet the antagonism sent flames of heat through me.
Riordan had teeth. I liked it when he snarled.
A dismissive huff was all the answer I could give, and I stabbed Moniqua’s number with my finger. She answered immediately.
“Riordan.” Her voice was breathy down the line. Vomit.
“No, it’s Cassie from the warehouse. I’m just borrowing his phone.”
Silence met my words, then, “Uh, hi, Cassie. Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. I wanted to ask ye something.” I framed the question about Alisha.
She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, since she was found dead shortly after, but it was only one of the girls who said it. She was just gossiping.”
“Who?”
“Dixie? She’s really sweet. One of the few people who’ve been nice to me there.”
Dixie wasn’t a suspect. She was a dancer, a sex worker, and also my friend. About as capable of murder as Lottie. We’d drawn another blank. With fading energy, I moved on to make Moniqua the job offer.
“Stripping and sex work in the brothel aren’t for anyone to take up casually. Ye can go behind the bar, or there’s a cleaning crew that always needs people. It isn’t glamorous but it’ll keep ye safe.”
She hummed. “Can I think about it? It’s really kind of you to offer. I don’t mean to be ungrateful, it’s just not where I pictured myself, you know?”
Aye, because she’d pictured herself under Riordan.
I told her she could message back whenever then got off the call, stabbing the screen with more violence than was necessary. I hadn’t wanted Moniqua to be reasonable. It would’ve been way more fun if she’d been a bitch to me. I would’ve had an outlet for my twisted mood.
Tossing Riordan back his phone, I stomped to the door and called out, “Tyler? Ye can come back.”
He was right outside and followed me in. Gestured at Riordan. “I’ve got something for you. Arran sent it.”
From his waistband, he produced a gun. More specifically, a Glock 17. A nine millimetre, self-loading, boring-as-fuck pistol, commonly used by the police. I knew that because I still had the matching one I’d stolen from Arran’s office when I’d taken the sedative needle.
Riordan accepted it. Turned it over.
“There are other weapons in the house,” Tyler was saying, “but those belong to Struan, Cassie’s older brother, and I wouldn’t touch anything belonging to that madman without permission. Right, Cassie?”
I faked a smile.
Struan had given me shooting lessons in a range in the woods when I’d been eight years old. Even after we’d stopped being on the run and our enemies had been handled, he’d been convinced we were still in danger. Sin felt the same, but Struan was the driving force behind all our security measures. Even now, he never relaxed.
None of that interested me now.
I watched Riordan, mixed up in too many feelings at once.
My obsession wasn’t going away, no matter how much I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real. No matter that he flaunted Moniqua to torment me.
All it did was show me he cared. And filled my head full of wild and wayward thoughts on what I’d do to keep him.