“Am I the cause?”
“No, just a catalyst.”
Neither of us said a single word more, because at last, we’d entered Dixie’s city of hiding. I reset every errant feeling. My friend needed me more than whatever the heck was happening with Kane.
Chapter 17
Kane
Our approach to Warford gave me a masterclass in Lovelyn’s expertise with data. While I got us into the city and through the morning traffic, she was busy creating a hit list of places to try, using police data on reported brothels and saunas. Ones that were tolerated and left alone, suggesting bribes that allowed them some permanence in the city.
She created a list then added it to the map on her phone, giving us a route to follow.
“If Dixie’s returning here, she’ll go to what’s familiar. If she’s following a friend, I’d hope this list might contain their workplace. It isn’t much, but it’s a start.”
All of this, yet she wouldn’t meet my eye.
At the first street on the list, we left the car in a shady-as-fuck side road.
I took in the multiple low-rise blocks of concrete flats. “Early for sex workers to be operating.”
Yet as I spoke, a white van turned up and a man jumped out. He glanced around him then scrammed to a door that opened on his approach, allowing him to disappear inside.
Lovelyn pursed her lips. “Or not. You stay here and I’ll go in.”
“Fuck that. Anyone could be in there. It makes more sense if ye stay locked in the car where you’ll be safe and I go inside. They’ll be expecting someone like me.”
“They won’t talk to you, though. Have you seen you? That scowl will scare away any hope of getting information.”
“Then we’ll go together, and I’ll try my best not to terrify people with my face.”
She relented, and we approached the door. It didn’t open for us, so I knocked then rested my hand on her shoulder.
Lovelyn turned her wide-eyed gaze on me, at last giving me a glimpse of her eyes. A man could get lost in those depths. I was solely checking she was functioning okay.
“What are you doing?”
“Unofficial boyfriend training. I want us to appear as a couple.”
She opened her mouth to say something else, but the door cracked open, revealing a middle-aged woman in a cropped top and leggings, her greasy blonde hair scraped back into a clip. “What do you want?”
“A chat with whoever’s in charge.”
“Sorry, no one’s home.” She went to slam the door.
My boot wedged in the gap. “Pity.”
I pushed the door open, keeping Lovelyn with me. From deeper inside the property, the sound of rhythmic thumping came, presumably the punter getting his rocks off.
The woman scrambled to the stairs and picked up a chipped coffee cup as if it were a weapon. “You cops?”
Lovelyn sighed and put her hands out in a calming fashion. “No, and we’re not here to cause trouble. We’re just trying to find a friend who’s missing. Sorry to barge in.” She took out her phone and found a picture of Dixie. “Have you seen this woman?”
The sex worker didn’t glance at the screen. “Never seen her before in my life.”
From my back pocket, I found my wallet and extracted a note. “Look again.”
She took it, folded the money, and stuffed it into her bra. At last, she squinted at the phone.
