The sedan door opens. The detectives are already moving. One says, “Police,” like a punctuation mark. Another says, “Troy Turner, you’re under arrest for extortion, attempted extortion, and burglary.” He turns to run and runs straight into a badge.
He looks at me like I cheated. “You set me up!”
“You set yourself up by being a fucking idiot your whole goddamned life. You had a name, Troy. A family who loved you. A girlfriend who cared. You threw it all away for fuck all. You’re pathetic.”
They cuff him. He starts talking about Quincy again. “Call him,” he says to the air. “He’ll fix it. He told me to do it. He told me to threaten. He told me it would work. This is all his fault! Salem, you gotta call him! Get me out of this!”
“Get fucked, asshole.”
They put him in the car. Counsel steps out of the diner and nods at me. “Don’t say a word online. We’ll handle it.”
I sit in my car and put the thumb drive into my laptop. A single file. I look at the first frame. The angle is high and off to the side, propped somewhere awkward. I don’t see her face at first. I see hair I know and a shoulder.
I stop. My gut turns.
She isn’t performing for the camera, but he is. Making dumbass faces from behind her, grinning at the camera. He smacks her ass too hard, and she pulls away, still not aiming for the camera.
She has no idea it’s there.
“That was too hard.”
“That’s what I am, baby.”
“Not your cock,” she snaps at him. “The smack. Never your cock. You’re barely hard as it is.”
Something tells me he was going to edit this before he released it.
“And whose fault is that, Lou?”
“Are you saying it’s mine?”
He shrugs and flops on the bed, limp. “You stopped trying to be sexy for me. It worked.”
I don’t need to see more of this bullshit. I make a copy, pull the drive, pocket the copy, and hand the original to the detective who walks up with a bag and a form. He labels it. Chain of custody stays clean. Counsel tells me to go to the hotel and sit still. I nod.
I don’t go to the hotel.
I drive straight to Quincy’s. He’s doing a long-term townhouse rental while we’re here. I call my brothers. “Meet me at Quincy’s. Now.”
“Salem,” Knox says, warning in his voice.
“Worth the drive.”
Houston says, “We’re coming.”
I park in the slot marked with his unit number. Not a fan of waiting, but I want them here for this, so I wait. When they show up, I don’t explain. I pound on the door until the porch light comes on. He opens in a white shirt and slacks like he expects company. “Boys?—”
“We’re not your boys right now,” I say, walking past him. Knox looks like he came straight out of the rehearsal room. Houston looks like he ran.
Quincy closes the door behind them. He starts to raise both hands like he’s a host.
I cut him off. “You’re working with Troy. On the sex tape threat. On the break-in.”
He blinks. He’s good at old man neutral. “What did he say?”
“He said it was your idea to use the tape to break us up. He said you told him Lou would ruin the launch. That the label wanted the old masters. That you were working together this whole time.”
Knox shakes his head and smiles at me. “You’re confused, Salem. Troy is a liar. We all know that.”
