Rhonda shrugged.
Now that Taryn was paying attention, she saw how thin Rhonda had gotten. Her clothes hung on her frame.
Had she missed this because she was busy with Ash? Had getting involved with him been a mistake?
“A guy I met outside.”
Hopefully that was the truth. The Jack had a strict rule about dealing in the bar. Taryn would come back to that. She needed more information before deciding Rhonda’s fate. “Where did you get the money?”
Rhonda pouted. It might have been cute if she were a small child. Instead, she was just a woman who’d been dealt a bad hand and had made bad decisions on top of that.
“The money?” Taryn repeated her question when Rhonda didn’t answer.
“Tips.” She spat the word.
Taryn pondered her answer for a minute. It was true, the women who worked at Razor Jack’s made good tips. Plus, Taryn paid them well. She didn’t want returning to the streets to be an option.
Rhonda wasn’t a bad waitress. She probably did okay. Dani likely did the best.
“How much are you spending?”
Rhonda spit out a number, then looked away.
Taryn assumed she was lying and immediately doubled that number. After three months, she had to be spending more than that. So where was the money coming from?
“How much did Giselle’s pimp pay you?”
She hadn’t been completely sure until Rhonda paled.
“I didn’t... I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Realizing she was digging a deeper hole, she clamped her mouth shut.
Dammit. Taryn had hoped she was wrong. “Cut the shit, Rhonda. Someone here gave him the information. You’re the one with the expensive habit.”
“What about your new boyfriend?” Rhonda sneered.
Taryn gave her props for trying to deflect suspicion. Even after their latest confrontation, Taryn had never worried that he’d sell her out. He was more likely to wound her heart.
Of course, Rhonda was doing a pretty fucking good job of that herself.
“That’s not going to work.” Taryn studied Rhonda. The other woman held her gaze for a few seconds, then dropped her eyes.
Taryn had won, although it was an empty victory. No one had ever rejected the fresh start before. Later, she’d analyze—probably overanalyze—what had gone wrong. For now, she needed all the information she could get.
“How much did he pay you?” she asked again.
The number Rhonda gave her seemed unbelievably low. Her habit must be worse than Taryn realized, if Rhonda couldn’t judge the value of the information she sold.
“And the rescue plans?” A shot in the dark.
Rhonda mumbled another number.
Anotherridiculouslylow number.
With a sinking stomach, Taryn asked, “Dizzie’s location?”
Rhonda ducked her head.
Taryn’s heart sank. All this time she’d thought it was a fluke. That a newsie or a patron had seen the fugitive courier and reported it to the Tremaine Corporation.
