Eva interrupts my thoughts. “Shit, guys, files just dropped on McCarter.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I have Google Alerts on all our clients for media article mentions and such. I just got a notification about McCarter. I’m skimming some headlines now, but it looks like a bunch of files were dropped linking him to child sex trafficking, child abduction, and child pornography.”
This is the third client of ours in the last twelve months who has been exposed as a predator.How do we keep missing this?
My eyes meet Hudson’s. Both of us likely thinking of his mom.
My family has never touched trafficking. My grandfather despised it and my father did, too. They allowed sex work, though, something I never fully agreed with. Hudson, Eva, and I decided those operations ended when our parents died ten years ago.
Hudson’s mom was a high-end escort. Got into it young as a runaway, had Hudson in her teens. The likelihood his father was a sleazy politician is high, but his mom never revealed hisidentity. She was a good mom, raised him the best she could on her own.
Unfortunately, she believed the lies those men sold her. Once or twice a year, she’d meet a client who promised her the world. He “loved” her and would take care of her and Hudson. They always promised to set her up in a nice home, with a new car. She’d tell Hudson their luck was going to turn around, promise him the world.
Hudson caught on far sooner than his mother. He was a junior in high school when he discovered what his mom did for work. We didn’t know it when we became friends at such a young age, but his mom was part of my father’s business. I was so angry at my dad when I found out. He eventually convinced me it was the reason he and my mom took Hudson under their wing. He promised he’d take good care of Hudson’s mom, too.
When we were in college, she committed suicide.
For that reason—and many others—I ensure all our clients know that we don’t tolerate abuse against women or children. If we find out any of them are involved in trafficking or exploitation of any kind, especially against children, we take care of them ourselves.
Which is why I don’t understand how McCarter could have been doing this right under our nose. As I look through the pictures, emails, and texts, it’s clear to see the depravity he has been up to.
“How does this keep happening?” Eva whispers, echoing my own thoughts.
Silence stretches between us, thick with the shared realization that we missed something big.Again.
Hudson finally speaks. “Are they crediting TruthDrop again?”
“Not yet, not that I’m seeing, but it seems to be the same blueprint. Anonymous photos delivered to all major media outlets,”Eva answers. “No one has ever claimed credit for the leaks, though, so who knows?”
“Wait a second. Could Pippa be part of this online group?” I ask. Details click together in my mind. “I mean, she was with him just last night. That might not be a coincidence, right?”
“Maybe. But they were having a public meeting about a gala. How would she have gained access to these files? We have access to his devices, and we’ve never found anything like this on him,” Eva counters.
She’s right. I might be forcing pieces together, but Pippa wasn’t managing gala details at The Vault last night—she was working McCarter. I know I’m right about that. I just don’t know how to prove it or what it means.
“E, can we pull footage from the bar? I want to see where Pippa went after her meeting with McCarter.”
Hudson clears his throat. “She went to Club14. We were together last night. All night.”
Well, fuck me.
I try not to show my growing frustration, but I can’t imagine I’m doing a great job at it. “Alright, well. I still want to follow my gut on this. Something is off here. E, let’s set up surveillance on Pippa for a few days, see what we find. I know you’ve already been looking into TruthDrop, but look for ties between Pippa and this leak on McCarter. Let’s look back into Bellamy and Trask, too. See if she’s connected to either of them or any of the other politicians or celebrities who have been exposed by this group.”
“I’m pissed we’ve missed this again,” Eva says. “These men have been clients since Dad’s time, but we always dig into the skeletons in their closets. I have access to their home security systems, for crying out loud. I added extra backend trackers after Bellamy and I’mstillnot finding this info. How is this group doing it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m sure I’ll hear from McCarter now that shit is hitting the fan. I’ll make sure he knows he’s off our roster.”
“Bellamy and Trask died pretty quickly after their scandals, right?” Hudson chimes in, as if trying to work out his own clues.
“Yeah. Bellamy had an aneurysm; Trask a heart attack,” I answer.
“E, who else had file drops linked to TruthDrop?” Hudson asks. “That tech CEO Silas Truve and the Hollywood producer Wes Thornwell?—"
“Yeah, and Dex Hannigan,” Eva finishes for him. “That bummed me out. I grew up watching his show—he was so funny,” she adds.
“Right. So, is it just my imagination, or are all of those guys dead now?” I ask
