“Come on, Meals, the suspense is fucking killing me.”
“I… made friends with this Canadian whose cousin was a demimonde.”
His face blanked. “A what? That’s not some kind of witchcraft is it?”
“A courtesan. A… an escort, but only for the wealthy.”
His eyes widened and his jaw practically hit the desk. “Are you telling me you became a prostitute?”
I felt my lip curl up. “That’s such an ugly word.”
“You gotta be fuckin’ shittin’ me.” He threw back his head, staring at the ceiling. “My perfect little angel of a cousin who always did what everyone wanted became a… an escort.” He chuckled. “I guess that’s why you can afford to dress like that on a teacher’s salary. Are you even teaching third grade? Or is that just a cover story for your social media?”
“I teach. School really is out for the summer.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know this.”
“It’s not exactly public knowledge.”
He leveled a stare at me. “I don’t think you understand what I do for a living. I dig. I get to the bottom of shit. When I found you online and saw you were a teacher, I was happy that you broke away from the family and had no problem envisioning you as a teacher. I didn’t dig any deeper, and Ialwaysdig. But you teaching made sense. You as an escort doesn’t. Not much surprises me, Meals, but this sure as hell does.”
Now that he knew the truth, I couldn’t tell how he felt about it. “Are you slut shaming right now?”
He barked out a laugh. “No. Definitely not. You never belonged on that fuckin’ high horse anyway. Welcome to the ground where the morals are shady, and everyone minds their own goddamn business. Now I’m dying to know… is some sort of pimp after you or something? Is that the danger you’re in?”
“No. A couple of months ago, I started getting these weird emails in the account only my clients and a few women who do what I do know about.”
“What do you mean by weird?”
“Just your typical turn-or-burn style Bible verses. But the people who have that email address wouldn’t exactly be on a crusade to save my soul, if you get my drift.”
He made a face. “I’m okay with your lifestyle, but I don’t want details.”
“Noted. Well, the emails bugged me, but I thought maybe a friend or client was messing with me. Then, a month ago, somebody murdered my best friend. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I pulled up my deleted email files for Detective Monte, I discovered I’d received one of those emails the night Polly died. Yesterday, my client was stabbed to death between our sessions. The killer left a bloody X over my client’s door frame like the act was some sort of reverse Passover. Then, bam, another fucking email. I was allowed to leave the country, but I have to keep my phone on me so the detective working the case can call me. Hell, I may become his prime goddamn suspect. I don’t know if I’m in danger or just really bad, deadly luck to be around.”
After studying me for a moment, he let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl, you really stepped in it.”
“Stepped, rolled around, bathed, swam, and now I can’t get the stink off me.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. No wonder you were being all nostalgic about life at the compound. Your life could probably use a little of that structure.”
“I miss the safety of it,” I admitted.
“You need structure, not a stranglehold. Their protection was conditional, Meals. They only extend it far enough to cover their faithful followers. And if they knew what you’ve been up to, your back would resemble mine.”
“You don’t think the community is behind this, do you?” Sure, their rules were strict as hell, but murder? Besides, I couldn’t see them leaving the safety of their homes to venture into our sinful world of sex. “You don’t think they found me and sent someone to… uh… set me right with God, do you?”
Levi shrugged. “Hard tellin’. They might believe it’s their responsibility to bring you to justice. Might see it as some sort of crusade. I’ll look into it and see if anyone from back home has ventured out on a field trip lately, but nothing would surprise me anymore. I won’t leave any stone unturned.”
Thanks to our childhood, Levi had always been a little tormented, but the shadows behind his eyes made me wonder what else my cousin had seen to make him so pessimistic. Had his time in the Air Force done that? Making a mental note to ask him about it later, I replied, “You’ll help me?”
He gave me a reassuring smile. “Of course I will, but I gotta run this by the club, first. If your presence puts them in danger, they have a right to vote on whether or not you can stay.”
I hadn’t considered that. “Do you think they’ll kick me out?”
Levi shook his head. “No. I think you’re about to learn what it’s like to be part of a real family.”
His confidence was encouraging, but I still had my doubts. Unlike Levi, I wasn’t a veteran who’d honorably served my country. I was just a prostitute who may or may not be in danger. The Dead Presidents had no reason to help me.
