I swiveled on the stool, ice filling my veins. I spotted Dean Snyder first, by the edge of the stage. He wore a white suit that glowed under the lights and a black tie. I hated that he was handsome—with styled, brown hair, a gym-fit body, and a perpetual half smirk on his lips.
He led a woman onto the stage, giving her a huge smile. Then he adjusted the microphone for her.
My heart shriveled. For a second, I thought it was Viv.
I blinked. The woman was taller and thinner than my sister, but had a similar mane of blonde hair.
“Evening, y’all.” Shandy gave the crowd a shy smile. “I’m thrilled to be here and sing for you. It’s a dream come true for me.” She shot Snyder a pretty smile, then turned back to the crowd. “I’m gonna sing a favorite for you. I hope you enjoy.”
The music started and I discovered Shandy had an excellent voice. I listened to her singing a song about hopes and dreams. Her voice was a little deeper and smokier than Viv’s, but it brought back so many memories. Viv putting on performances at home from the time she could talk, using a hairbrush as her microphone. She’d sung at her high school graduation, and often did the national anthem at football games. She sang in theshower, she hummed as she read, she just lived and breathed music.
I miss you, Viv.
The music swelled, like it was responding to my grief, and Shandy hit her last note. As it faded away, the audience broke out in applause.
On stage, Shandy smiled. It was a little shy, but happy.
Then Snyder ascended the steps to the stage and held out a hand to her.
She took it with a wide smile.
I tried not to launch myself off the stool and attack him, but it was hard. My hand clenched on my glass. This was the man who’d systematically broken my sister.
Who’d killed her.
I watched Snyder lead Shandy to the VIP area. He was all charm, leaning in and touching her hair. No doubt complementing her performance, making promises he would never keep.
God, he was doing it again.
Dread flowed through me. Blindly, I lifted my drink and took a long gulp. He’d replaced Viv, less than two weeks after murdering her, and now he was seducing this poor woman.
Soon, she’d be broken, raped, drug addicted.
Lost in my thoughts, I felt my cellphone vibrate, and it jolted me out of my despair. My gut cramped but I realized it couldn’t be from Snyder. He was on the couch, canoodling with Shandy.
Blindly, I pulled my phone out and saw a message from an unknown number.
Your guy doesn’t want to be found, and he keeps his shit tight, girly.
Oh God, it was from thehacker I’d paid a small fortune to find Nash. I’d given up on him weeks ago.
Got a single partial facial recognition. Might be him, might not be.
My chest squeezed. He’d found Nash. Maybe.
If I take more of your money, I’d be stealing from you.
Wow, I’d managed to find an upfront, honest hacker. I typed.
Where?
Avernus casino. Las Vegas.
My heart stopped. Nash was here? In Las Vegas?
Maybe. It might not be him. I tried to get control of my racing pulse. But surely this was some sort of sign.
I studied the image on the screen. It showed a man in jeans and a ball cap. The cap was navy blue, with no team logo or other markings on it. In the picture, he stood partly in profile, and it wasn’t a clear view of his face. I zoomed in. He also had a beard. Nash didn’t have a beard when I’d known him.
