Aus leans in, his voice lowered. “We go through waitstaff here pretty quickly, but that’s because—and I say this with all due respect, Bianca—Rouge is kind of a nightmare to work for.”
I nod. I know that all too well. She’s a nightmare to grow up with, too.
“We don’t hear a lot from the waitstaff after they leave, but I’ve always figured that was because they wanted to get as far away from this place as possible. I’ve done what I can to improve the working conditions, but there’s a lot here at Jade that makes it a…difficult place to work.”
“How so?” I ask.
“It’s a long story. I’ll save it for another time,” Aus says. “But suffice to say things can get pretty rough. I always wrote off when a waiter or waitress would leave and I’d never hear a word from them again.” He takes a slow breath in. “Until Tim.”
“Tim?” Harrison asks.
“Timothy Mann,” Aus says. “A friend of mine from high school. Used to be homeless. Had a history of drug and alcohol abuse, and we lost touch after we graduated. I used to work in Las Vegas, but then life happened as it always does and I ended up back here at Jade. I ran into Tim in Millennium Park, collecting soda cans and begging people for cash. I told him Rouge sometimes hires homeless people as waitstaff here at Jade, gives them a chance to get back on their feet. But I told him not to mention that he was a friend of mine. Rouge has a strict non-nepotism policy.”
I swallow. I’m her sister. She gave me a job. But Rouge has a different set of rules for herself. That’s always been the case.
“So you got him the job indirectly?” Harrison asks.
“I did. It went well for a while. Rouge put him up somewhere out west, some old hotel she bought for pennies on the dollar. He had a roof over his head and was able to save up the money from his tips for a couple of years.”
I lean in more, dreading the answer to my next question. “And then?”
“And then…” Aus snaps his fingers. “About a week ago, he went completely off the grid. I couldn’t get in touch with him, couldn’t do anything.”
“What do you think happened?” Harrison asks.
“No idea, but knowing Rouge—and again, no offense meant to you, Bianca—I can’t imagine it’s anything good.” He frowns, grabs his beer, and takes a long drink. “He was an addict. Maybe he relapsed. Worst case, he died of an overdose. Best case, he’s in a nearby rehab facility. But I can’t shake the feeling that something darker has happened.”
My heart starts to race. I know the feeling Aus is talking about. I’ve felt it for some time at Aces, but I’ve ignored it, thrown myself into my music. Kept my head down and prayed the target would stay off my back.
For years I’ve been suppressing a suspicion that she’s been up to something bad. I figured it was some white-collar crime like embezzlement or money laundering.
But now? After hearing all these stories in hushed voices about people disappearing with no trace? All of them with some connection to one of Rouge’s clubs?
Embezzling money is child’s play compared to what my sister might be up to.
I drop my jaw as I realize something.
Pierce. My drummer.
He mysteriously didn’t show up to Aces the other night.
I wrote it off at the time as a misunderstanding. He’s our newest member. Honestly I haven’t thought much about him since Harrison and I started looking into Rouge’s alleged misdoings.
Then I realize—Pierce was the one who encouraged the rest of the band to go along with me when I wanted to add an unauthorized song to my set.
The woman from MINOS, Dishari, had some sort of tiff with Rouge. I bet the same could be said for some of the others who have gone missing.
Our Queen doesn’t believe in second chances.
I’ve heard that uttered around the club, usually by one of Rouge’s Kings—her bodyguards and occasional sexual playthings. I figured it meant that Rouge was quick to fire people who crossed her, but now I’m wondering if there’s a more sinister interpretation.
She was there when I sang the unauthorized encore. I didn’t think she would be, but she was.
And she probably asked the other musicians who encouraged it.
I was the one who wanted to do it, of course. But I’m her sister. She can’t touch me.
At least I don’t think she would.
