33. Thea
THEA
“Aus?” I ask. “Did you find anything?”
“Um… Yes. No.” His mouth forms a straight line. “Maybe.”
“What is it?”
“A red diamond.”
I get to my feet. “A what?”
“A red diamond. A diamond that’s red.”
“I know what you meant.” I cross over to the tractor. “But what on earth is a precious stone doing at the scene of a murder?”
“It’s not the strangest thing you could find.” Aus is speaking slowly, as if he’s holding on to a secret he doesn’t want to divulge.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He sighs. “There are certain people I associate with red diamonds who would have no problem crushing a man with a giant rock.”
My heart skips a beat. Do we finally have something that could prove me innocent? “Oh my God. Who?”
“Don’t get too excited.” He climbs down from the tractor and walks me over to a nearby bench. “Does the name Rouge Montrose mean anything to you?”
The name is familiar. You can hardly forget a name like that. Rouge Montrose. A great name for a high-end stripper.
I close my eyes and try to remember where I’ve heard the name.
Then it comes crashing to me.
“Breaking news from the heart of one of Chicago’s oldest clubs,” Tip Sanderson declares from the news desk.
“Aces Underground, the exclusive club frequented by some of Chicago’s brightest stars, has come under fire for association with an illegal organ-harvesting operation headed by the club’s frontwoman, the mysterious Rouge Montrose. ”
“That’s right, Tip,” Micaela adds. “Montrose was found deceased in her home in the Chicago Gold Hills neighborhood along with three of her male employees, also deceased. The investigation has concluded and it has been determined Montrose’s wounds were self-inflicted, while the three male employees were killed in self-defense. ”
“Montrose’s sister, Bianca, was at the condo when the death occurred. She was joined by surgeon Harrison O’Rourke and two of Montrose’s other employees, Vanya Dimitriev and Chester ‘Chet’ Tabbit, the latter of whom fled the scene before investigators could question him. Tabbit is still at large.”
The screen behind them displays a photo of a man, completely bald with hot-pink eyebrows and a giant grin carved into his face.
I lean over toward Cal, who’s standing beside me off camera. “They’re having trouble finding that guy?”
He chuckles. “He looks slippery. And I mean that in more ways than one.”
I stick out my tongue. “Gross.”
“Ms. Montrose revealed to reporters that she and Dr. O’Rourke uncovered the harvesting operation a few days prior but were unwilling to take the case to authorities due to Montrose’s connections within the CPD,” Tip continues.
“ChicagO2 investigators have confirmed multiple employees of Aces Underground and other clubs under its umbrella were killed for their hearts, lungs, and other vital organs. The organs were then trafficked through the now-defunct Shinzo Life Center, which operated out of the same building as Aces.”
I press a hand over my heart. This is absolutely insane.
We cover all the news in Chicago. Plenty gruesome murders make their way to Tip and Micaela’s desk. But this…
This is something else.
Glad I don’t have anything to do with any of those places. I’ll happily spend most evenings with Dodo.
Tip’s words reverberate through my brain. Aces Underground and other clubs under its umbrella.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur. “Rouge Montrose was the woman behind the organ harvesting ring. She owned Aces Underground, and…”
“And the Jade Sanctum,” Aus finishes for me. “Correct. She was my boss.”
“How could you work for someone like her?”
“I didn’t know… At least, I didn’t know everything. I’d have never guessed the people who were disappearing were being killed and chopped into bits.”
“People were disappearing?”
“They were. My friend Tim among them.” Aus sighs. “It’s a long story. Suffice to say I knew Rouge for years. We met while I was working as a magician in Las Vegas.”
“And she brought you over to Jade?”
He gazes into the distance. “Something like that, yeah.”
Aus isn’t telling me everything. I don’t think he was evil like Rouge Montrose, but for the first time since I met him, I’m wondering how clean his hands actually are.
“What happened?”
He gets to his feet. “Now really isn’t the time. It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“No, you don’t.” He holds up the red diamond.
“Whoever killed Kin might have had this on him when he dropped the stone on him. That means he’s someone related to Rouge.
We’ll start by looking into some of her old allies.
We’ll figure out who killed Kin, and then you can get on with your life as normal. ”
I sigh. Normal isn’t in the cards for me.
That much is clear from the last several days.
The last several years, honestly.
Since I was fifteen.
Because nothing has been normal since the day Bill Insworth came into my life.
The wedding went off without a hitch. Not many people showed up, but enough did. Emmy seemed happy. Bill seemed happy.
I broke my back the last few days getting the preparations together. I ended up sneaking some of Emmy’s prescription pain pills. I had to be careful because I know they’re easy to get addicted to, but I only took them when the pain was excruciating.
Of course, that was nearly the whole time, but I’ll deal with a possible opioid addiction later.
Bill hasn’t said anything about that interaction we had on the kitchen floor. He didn’t have to. I haven’t looked his way once since it happened. We’ve exchanged tepid pleasantries to keep up appearances in front of Emmy, but that’s it.
That bastard is going to pay for what he did, though.
So is Emmy.
She had a hand in this, too. She left the house knowing Bill was going to do something awful to me.
Hell, we wouldn’t even be in this mess if she’d hired a farmhand who could actually handle a tractor. Or if she’d bothered to make sure she and I were covered in case of a medical emergency.
She’s not my mother, but she’s the closest thing I have.
A mother is supposed to protect her child. Not force her to do tasks she has no business doing. Not leave her alone with her pervert of a fiancé to do God knows what to her.
So over the last few days, I’ve started gathering materials. I wasn’t just sneaking from Emmy’s closet. Dozens of orange bottles littered the medicine cabinet, several of which bore a name other than hers.
But to do this right, I’m going to need patience. A lot.
In the meantime, I’ll play the part.
The good little farm girl. Obedient to her stepparents. Never complaining about the hard work she has to do. Sweet, pretty. Pigtails and everything.
The kind of girl no one will ever blame for what I’m about to do.