“Yo, boss?” Rhyan’s voice echoed off the tiled foyer. “You in here?”
Laikyn’s green eyes went dinner plate wide.
“You can trust her the same way you can trust me,” I told her softly, touching her arm before I could think better of it.
She moved one step toward me, her voice raspy and soft. “What’s happening?”
“Upstairs!” I called to Rhyan.
“Rule, please,” Laikyn pleaded. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Rather than explain, I took her hand and pulled her along with me so I could go downstairs and talk to Monica.
Rhyan, being too fucking perceptive, noticed that I was holding Laikyn’s hand before she even looked at my face. I swore I saw the hint of a smirk, but she covered it quickly.
“What do we have, boss?”
“Two bodies.”
“Do we know who they are?”
“Unfortunately. And so do a lot of other people. You’ll recognize ’em.”
“Great,” Rhyan muttered.
“Get it cleaned up and erase any evidence they were ever here. Including the security videos.”
“Where do you want me to take the bodies?”
“Get Red Wally to check out their place. See what he can do about the staff. Our best option is to take them there.”
“Got it.”
I continued down the stairs, still holding Laikyn’s hand.
“You’re dumping the bodies?”
“Unless you’d prefer I set them up in the living room.”
She tried to pull her hand from mine, clearly not appreciating my sarcasm. I held firm, not wanting her to run for a phone to call the cops.
“This is stupid,” Laikyn insisted. “Just call the police. My mom can tell them what happened.”
I stopped and turned toward her. “And whatdidhappen, Laikyn?”
“I don’t know.”
“I very seriously doubt that man stabbed himself.”
Her dark eyebrows arched, her expression one of confusion and fear. “It was an accident. She said so.”
I didn’t comment, turning and continuing down the stairs. It pissed me off that she was in the middle of this.
“Take me to her,” I instructed when we reached the bottom of the stairs.
“In there,” she said, motioning toward the large open archway on the right.
I didn’t bother hiding my eye roll when I found Monica sitting on the settee, her feet curled up under her, a cigarette in one hand and a highball glass in the other. She looked as though she’d just come from the beauty salon. Her hair was styled, her makeup perfect. I had to assume she’d had a wardrobe change since the incident. She was wearing a black silk gown and robe and glittering heels on her feet. Her robe was draped perfectly over her legs like she was posing for a photoshoot.
