28. Aus
AUS
Everything in the room turns blood red.
Red exam table. Red tongue depressors. Red stethoscope around the doctor’s neck.
One thing is for sure.
I’m going to kill Wick Blackwood if it’s the last thing I do.
Thea frowns. “You’re saying my drink was laced with ecstasy?”
“If you didn’t voluntarily ingest it, then yes, that’s the most likely thing that occurred.
” The doctor flips through a few sheets of paper.
“Like I said, this is all contingent on the other screenings confirming the results, but ninety-nine times out of a hundred they all end up saying the same thing.”
Her face twists slightly, but she remains resolute. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your time.”
“Of course, Ms. Storm. I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.”
“No harm done. Should I be worried about any side effects?”
“The drugs have left your system by now, so you’ll be fine. MDMA is not physically addictive in the same way that opioids are, so as long as you’re not making a habit out of it, you’ll be fine.”
“She was drugged,” I growl. “How the hell would she make a habit out of something she can’t control?”
“I was just answering her question, sir,” the doctor replies. “I’ll be in contact once the other results are in. In the meantime, I always advise my patients—especially my female patients—to make sure not to leave their drinks unattended when they’re out in public.”
Thea nods, but I suppress an eye roll.
Her drink wasn’t spiked because she was being careless. It was spiked because the brother of the man who wanted to take her home that night made the drink and added fucking molly to it.
And now the man who fixed that drink is dead.
Convenient.
I walk Thea out of the urgent care and into my car. Once the doors are shut, I reach over and squeeze her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Her expression is blank. “Not in the slightest.”
I dig my fingernails into the steering wheel. “I’ll kill Wick. I’ll fucking kill him.”
“We don’t know that he had anything to do with it. Kin was the one who made the drink.”
“And you don’t know Kin. Or didn’t know him. Wick had him wrapped around his little finger. He didn’t so much as fart without his big brother’s approval.” I rub at my forehead. “Wick clearly had his brother lace your drink.”
She frowns. “I guess he did share a knowing look with him when he first sat down next to me at the bar of the East. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but…
” She slaps her palm to her forehead. “How could I be so stupid? Wick literally told Kin to make the drink—and this a direct quote—‘Blackwood style.’ That must have been a code.”
Holy shit. There’s our smoking gun.
I’ll kill Wick. I just wish I could bring Kin back to life so I could kill him, too.
But Thea doesn’t need anger right now. She needs sympathy, support.
“You weren’t stupid. You had no way of knowing that’s what Wick meant. Assuming the best in people is usually a good thing.”
“Not fucking this time.” She looks up, cocks her head at me. “Why are you so invested in this case, anyway? This doesn’t involve you directly, just your employees.”
Not true. If my employees were—are, in Wick’s case—drugging my patrons, that’s absolutely an issue of liability I have to deal with as the owner of the Jade Sanctum.
But I’d be lying if I said that’s the real reason I’m all in on this.
The real reason is the woman sitting beside me. Thea Storm.
And for the first time, I realize I’m feeling something.
Something beyond physical attraction.
It’s quick. Unexpected. Out of left fucking field.
But I’m developing serious feelings for this woman. Feelings I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced.
I've known her a grand total of three days now, and that’s if you round up.
I have no idea if she’s feeling the same way. We had sex last night, and it was great, but what if this is just a physical thing for her? What if I’m just serving as a distraction from the police investigation, the fact she was drugged in plain sight?
One thing is for sure.
These feelings are scaring the hell out of me.
And given what I’ve lived through? What I’ve seen?
That’s saying something.
Rouge Montrose delivered.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars were wired into my bank account the night after I made the lady in green disappear.
I’ve put all the money into my show, hiring people to advertise it on the Strip and work backstage, upgrading all my sets, lights, and props, and getting the theater cleaned up.
It’s only been a few weeks, but I’m already seeing improvements.
My crowds are triple the size and I’m actually making a decent profit.
The greatest coup of all, though? The Great Bimboni’s managers have been in touch about a meeting in a few weeks. If I can land his support, I’m set for life.
I’m happy I did what I did.
At least… I mostly am.
I haven’t for a second stopped thinking about the lady in green.
What happened to her? I still have no idea what became of her after Rouge mysteriously apparated into the house after it dropped.
I’ve looked into security footage of the theater, and there’s no evidence anyone went through any of the theater’s many exits during the performance.
I looked up and down the nooks and crannies of the backstage area after the fact as well, and she didn’t leave a trace.
She simply vanished.
It’s Vegas. The city was founded by the mob. Shady business dealings and people disappearing isn’t all that uncommon here.
The fact that there’s no evidence of her leaving at all, though? That’s what’s weirded me out. Could she have found some hidden basement and camped out in the weeks since I made her disappear?
I laugh lightly at the thought. A far more rational explanation is that security here sucks. There could be gaps in the footage from that night. We’re not exactly the MGM. We don’t have all the bells and whistles of the theaters on the Strip.
At least for now we don’t.
My lease with this theater will be ending soon, and I’m hoping Bimboni’s help will get me an in with one of the hotels on Las Vegas Boulevard now that I have more money and influence.
The show is much more of a spectacle. The house act still serves as my main draw, but I no longer use a child’s tent, but rather a Lincoln-Log-style cabin that the person sits inside before it’s seemingly crushed by the giant house.
It’s twice as exciting, and I’ve started inviting local critics to come to the show and write about it on their online blogs. Ticket prices have been soaring.
I’m hoping it’ll be an easy sell to one of the big guys.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve been a great crowd! Good night!”
I take my final bow as the audience roars. Another successful show. One of my last in this theater if I have my way.
I wander backstage but stop dead in my tracks when I see a woman checking her makeup in my dressing room mirror. My heart skips when I recognize her.
I walk inside. “Rouge?”
She glides a mascara brush through her eyelashes. “Mr. Waverly.”
“How did you get backstage?”
“Your theater’s lack of functional security is the least of your problems.” She gestures to the chair next to her. “Sit.”
I do so. “What’s going on?”
She places her mascara back into a small bag. “I trust you remember the woman you made disappear that night a few weeks ago?”
I furrow my brow. “Of course.”
She frowns. “It would appear your skills are greater than I anticipated. She truly vanished into thin air. I had people in place to collect her backstage, but they couldn’t find her.”
“She probably just walked out onto the street.”
“If you’d looked into any security footage, then you’d know this to be untrue as well.” She crosses her arms. “Of course, I still made sure to follow through on my promise. It’s clear from the increase in production quality that you’ve put the money I gave you to good use.”
“Yes, but what does this have to do—”
She holds a hand up. “Which makes it all the more of a shame that I’m going to have to ask you to shut down your show effective immediately.”
I drop my jaw. “What?”
She leans toward me, cups my cheeks with her cold hands.
“Aus Waverly, you were the last person to see this woman alive. I’ve done everything in my power to keep the investigators at bay, but they’re now extremely concerned with her disappearance.
I’ve caught wind they are closing in on you, wondering if you used your act to divert attention from her disappearance, make it seem as though it was just a trick rather than something more”—she digs her nails into my flesh—“gruesome.”
“I didn’t do anything like that. All I did was select her because you told me to. What happened after the fact isn’t important.”
“Do you not claim responsibility for your own trick?”
“Of course I do, but—”
“But nothing, Aus. You and I both know you didn’t harm a hair on her gorgeous head, but the optics aren’t good.
And that’s all it takes. A beautiful woman has disappeared, and you’re the primary suspect.
The only reason you haven’t been arrested yet is because the detectives have been building their case.
I’ve been slowing them down as best I can, but they’ll be descending soon. ”
I run my hands through my hair. “But it was only because of you that I chose that woman in the first place. I usually select volunteers from the audience at random, but I did what you asked. I didn’t think it would lead to something like this.”
Rouge purses her lips. “Nevertheless, it has. And I’m afraid you’ll have to leave town.”
I stand, pace the room. “You don’t understand. This is my livelihood. My entire career. I was going to expand into a larger theater, build a greater network. I’ve been chatting with Bimboni. I could be the next David Copperfield. How am I supposed to pay the bills?”
Rouge cracks a wry smile. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“I don’t?”
“Of course not.” Rouge stands, closes the distance between us until her breasts are grazing my body. “A second-in-command spot has opened up at one of the clubs I run in Chicago. I know now I can trust you.” She traces a finger around my jaw. “Do you have any non-illusory skills?”
I blink. “I mean, I work events on the side. Mostly DJ gigs.”
“Perfect. You’ll be working in an administrative capacity, but your music skills will also be useful.” She extends a hand. “Let me tell you about the Jade Sanctum.”