Chapter 17
Lauren basically told us to go screw ourselves. She wasn’t willing to answer any questions without a lawyer.
We left the Platinum Dunes and headed back to Diver Down to grab lunch. Teagan greeted us at the bar with an infectious smile. “Afternoon, gentlemen. Making any progress?”
“Not really,” JD said.
Teagan frowned. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” After a pause, she said, “You don’t really buy into this werewolf thing?”
I shook my head.
"Paris keeps interviewing all these people who claim to have seen a wolf-like creature, capable of walking upright, with large claws and sharp fangs."
"It's Halloween. People are dressed up in costumes running around.”
"Still, it's kinda creepy. What if there is still something loose from the zoo?”
"I think everything's been accounted for by this point in time."
JD and I perused the menus, then placed our orders. He went with the bacon cheeseburger, and I went with the steak fajitas.
Teagan sent our order to the kitchen, and we chatted for a bit.
"You get any vibes about this whole thing?" JD asked.
Teagan shot him a look. Her supposed psychic powers came and went, and she didn't like to use them anyway. She smiled and said, "I'm a blank slate.”
That was the end of that discussion.
Harlan sat at the end of the bar, nursing a longneck.
A weather alert flashed on the screen behind the bar.
“Hurricane Tilda is now a category 4. Current projections have the storm missing the island, moving south of Cuba. We’ll be watching for any last-minute turns.
It could still veer north. Either way, we do expect a lot of rain.
Officials have not yet recommended evacuation.
Stay tuned for hurricane updates. We’ve got you covered. ”
“Thanks, Jessica,” the anchor said when the camera cut back to him.
“Think we’re going to get hit?” JD asked.
I shrugged. “If it starts heading this way, we’ll need to move the boat.”
We still had a little time, but the storm was moving fast.
After we ate, we headed to the Trident Tower to pay Blair a visit. JD was eager to see her in the flesh.
The Trident was another luxury high-rise with a private marina, workout room, 24-hour valet, concierge, and all the amenities.
Jack pulled under the carport, and the valet hustled to get his door. He slipped a few bills into the kid’s pocket and told him to keep it up front.
We hopped out, and I flashed my badge at the glass double doors. The concierge buzzed us in and welcomed us with a warm smile. "Afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do for you today?"
"Looking for Blair Bishop," I said.
"I think she's in the building. Would you like me to buzz her unit?"
"No, thank you.” I smiled as we proceeded to the elevators.
We launched up to the 17th floor and ambled down the elegant hallway.
I rang the video doorbell, and Blair’s voice crackled through the speaker a moment later. "I'm not interested.”
"I'm not selling anything," I said, flashing my badge to the lens.
She hesitated for a moment. "What is this about?”
"The death of Hannah Quinn.”
That hung there for a moment.
"Terrible tragedy. I was so saddened to hear of her passing.”
I stifled an eye-roll. "We're hoping you might be able to help our investigation," I said, trying to put a soft spin on it.
"I’m not sure how I can help.”
"It will only take a few moments. We’re talking to everyone who knew Hannah. Trying to gain additional insights.”
After a long moment, Blair said, "Just give me a minute. I'll be right there.”
I exchanged a look with Jack.
A moment later, footsteps pattered down the foyer.
Blair pulled open the door wearing a string bikini so tight and small it was a miracle it held everything together. A wardrobe malfunction was imminent, if we were lucky.
Her tanned skin glistened with oil, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a haphazard updo, but somehow, it looked salon-styled. Blair’s sculpted cheekbones, full lips, and alluring blue eyes gave her the face of a cover model.
Blair had no doubt done well for herself as an online E-girl, but now she had her sights set on something bigger.
Her fiancé, Tristan, was in the 10-figure club.
That's an entirely different level of money.
It was only a matter of time before he learned of his fiancée's illustrious past. Blair was deluding herself if she thought she could keep Lexi Luscious a secret forever.
But maybe she just needed to keep it a secret long enough—until the nuptials were sealed.
I don't think a guy like Tristan entered into contracts without doing his due diligence. Not knowing the guy personally, I couldn't say. But you didn't get to a billion net worth by making stupid decisions. Then again, people often do stupid things for what they think is love.
"How was she killed?" Blair asked. "I've heard several conflicting reports.”
"I can't discuss details of the case. You understand.”
The blonde nodded.
"As a matter of procedure, can you tell me where you were last night between 9 and 11:00 PM?”
"I was here at my apartment."
"Alone?"
"Yes, my fiancé is out of town.”
"Does he travel a lot?”
A frustrated sigh escaped her plump lips. "Yes. He's always going somewhere. Doing some kind of business deal. Sometimes he brings me with him, sometimes he doesn't.”
It was clear she wanted to be a permanent fixture on his jet-set travels.
"When was the last time you talked to Hannah?”
Her face tightened, and she blew out a breath as she thought. "I'm not really sure. We didn't talk often, and really only when necessary.”
"I take it you two didn't get along.”
She stared me dead in the eyes. "Hannah wasn't easy to get along with.”
"So I've heard. It's my understanding she was trying to leverage your relationship."
Blair's brow knitted with confusion. “What do you mean?”
"I think you know what I mean.”
Her mouth tensed. "I'm sorry. I'm in the dark."
I figured a picture was worth a thousand words. I displayed an image of her alter ego on my phone.
Blair's eyes rounded, and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. "How did you find that?”
"It wasn't hard.”
Blair frowned.
"Do you really think your fiancé doesn't know?”
"He doesn't know, and he's not going to know. I'm trying desperately to get all those images scrubbed off the Internet, but they keep popping up. I've hired multiple firms to handle it, but nobody can seem to get the job done.”
"It's not easy to scrub the Internet.”
"I've noticed. But if Tristan finds out, this whole thing is off.”
"How can you be so sure?”
She gave me a flat look. "Would you want pictures of your girlfriend—the future mother of your children—all over the Internet, getting pounded by random studs with tools bigger than a humpback whale?”
"No, I can't say that sounds particularly appealing. But you never know. If it's true love, and you're honest with each other. How do you think he’s going to feel about you keeping it a secret?”
Blair frowned again. She looked tormented.
"I never imagined I'd be in this position.
I was in a bind. I needed money. It seemed like a good thing to do for a little while, and I did okay.
I never made a ton of money. Some of these girls are making $1 million a month.
I'd be lucky to cover rent and groceries.”
"I would have thought you'd made millions," Jack said.
Blair smiled. "Thank you." She shrugged. "Who knows why some girls take off and others don't? I'm not the best marketer in the world. I don't really like interacting with all the weirdos. I don't think I was really cut out for it.”
"And Hannah threatened to expose you,” I said.
"Yes, that fucking bitch!”
"You’d do just about anything to keep that secret safe, I would imagine.”
"Oh, I told her I’d kill her if she told Tristan.” Blair blurted out without thinking. Then she realized what she'd said. "It's just a figure of speech. I didn't mean it. I didn't kill her. You know that, right?”
"Did you go over to her house last night?”
Her brow wrinkled again. "No. I told you, I haven't seen her in a long time, and only when necessary. Social events, things like that."
"You're judging the competition again this year.”
Blair rolled her eyes. "That stupid competition. I don't get what the big deal is. But Genevieve asked me to judge again. Personally, I think she likes the drama. Keeps her entertained. Drama sells.” Blair paused. “I’m sure you’ve looked into Hannah’s ex-husband.”
“Yes, we’ve spoken with him.”
"Look, I'm not the only one Hannah was blackmailing. Have you talked to Dalton?”
I nodded.
“What about Elise?”
"She's on our list.”
"I don't see how anyone could stand Hannah.
She was just a miserable person. Always trying to get some dirt on somebody.
Always trying to get them to do what she wanted.
Tell you the truth, I'm glad she's gone. There, I said it. Now I can vote my conscience in that stupid competition. And my conscience tells me to vote for Sutton just because I know it will piss Hannah off. She will roll over in her grave.”
"You mind if we take a look around your apartment?" I asked.