Page 46 of Hard Heart

“Dammit. And he wasn’t even there.” I thunked my head on the table. “Wait, did anyone check that for sure?”

I’d barely looked at Greyson Meyer yet. I knew he was a politician and not much more.

“Yes. He was in Florida with his family.”

“Okay. Okay, let’s go back to Justin. You already know he has a construction company, but did you hear about the Ruby Rose Foundation?”

Sykes’s shocked expression told me this was indeed news to him. “He started a charity in her damn name?”

“The foundation provides low-cost rental accommodation for women running from difficult domestic situations. I obtained their financial statements from the State Division of Consumer Affairs, and most of the donations come from individuals, although their names aren’t disclosed. State law requires at least one director; the IRS prefers three. Care to guess their names?”

“Justin, obviously. Brax?”

“Aw, you’re not just a pretty face.”

“Grey?”

“Three out of three. Despite everything that happened, they still seem to be quite pally, but what we don’t know is why Norquist started the foundation in the first place.”

“Out of grief?” Sykes said, following my train of thought. “Or out of guilt?”

“Exactly. He’s kept his nose clean. Norquist Construction has excellent reviews online—solidly built homes, great customer service, blah blah blah. The only one-star came from a home-buyer complaining about a nest of bees in their siding, which is somewhat outside of Justin’s control. Clearly, I haven’t spoken with him, but⁠—”

“Don’t,” Sykes said quickly.

“It might be the best way to get information.”

“There’s a reasonable possibility he’s a murderer, and I’m not putting you in harm’s way.”

“What if I met him in a public setting?”

“I’d rather stay in here forever than get news of your funeral. He fooled me successfully for two years; I don’t want him coming after you when your back is turned.”

Why? Because Sykes had a healthy guilt complex? Or…or because he cared? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out the answer, so I skipped over that line of questioning altogether. I also made no promises.

“Next on the list is Braxton Dupré, or Braxton Vale as he’s called now. Did you know about the name change?”

“No, but it makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Vale is his mother’s last name. He adores her, but he couldn’t stand his father.”

All these little pieces of background information were fascinating, and I still had to pinch myself that I was sitting here with Levi Sykes, having him fill them in.

“So, I heard on the grapevine that he runs a private members’ club where some very interesting things happen in the basement.”

“Are we talking a drug lab or a sex dungeon?” Sykes asked, his voice expressionless as usual. Somehow, that made this conversation easier.

“The second one.”

“Guess that doesn’t surprise me either.”

“Really? Why do you say that? Was he into kink? Because that didn’t come up during the trial.”

“No, but I could see him facilitating it for others. Sex sells, and Brax has an entrepreneurial spirit. High-end call girls make a lot of money.”

There was something about the way Sykes said that. As if he was familiar with the pay scales…