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At some point, I doze off on the couch and wake to a light but firm rapping on my front door. My heart is immediately in my throat and I sit straight up, grabbing my phone.
It’s happening again.
I get up, grab my phone, and tiptoe to the door. Looking out the peephole, I don’t see anything. Because of the new baby, Daniil hasn’t had a chance to install the new camera and security system so I’m feeling vulnerable, despite how badly I want to throw open the door and catch whoever it is in the act.
Instead, I open my phone, dial 911, and then wait, ready to press the Send button at the next sound. I press my back against my door, trying to still the beating of my heart.
But there’s nothing.
Just a long, heavy silence.
Chapter Fourteen
Rage
The scene in front of the motel where Ginger overdosed is chaotic. There are police cars, detectives, an ambulance, and a lot of curious onlookers. I recognize a couple of the club girls, huddled together, crying. And standing next to them is Metal.
He shouldn’t be here. If this is about the club, he could be a target, and even if it isn’t, he’s too close to the situation. This is a clusterfuck regardless, and it has to be triggering as hell for him this soon after losing Layla.
I walk in that direction, and he sees me right away.
“Thanks for coming,” he says quietly.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell him.
His eyes snap to mine. “Where the hell else would I be? I told you guys that Layla didn’t kill herself. Now two more girls are dead—what does that tell you?” He’s pissed, and I don’t blame him, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.
“It tells me we have to be careful, and standing here in the middle of the crime scene isn’t productive.”
“Why are you here?” he counters gruffly.
“I’m here because your boss called mine, and they asked me to take a look.”
“At what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He looks annoyed but then one of the girls starts crying and he turns to her, putting an arm around her thin shoulders.
God, this is a mess.
My original plan was to skulk around, see what I might see or hear, but with so many people milling about who might recognize me, I have to pivot. A few more guys from the club have just shown up, so I do my best to blend in with Metal and the girls, keeping an eye on everyone around us.
I don’t see anyone who appears more suspicious than anyone else. There are a few guys who look like low-level thugs—probably local pimps—but they seem more concerned than anything else. Even if it’s not one of their girls this time, the fact that there’s been three in such a short period of time means their girls could be next.
The bigger frustration for me is that the police seem more bored than anything else. Another addict sex worker who took herself out. Probably nothing more than paperwork for them, and that pisses me off.
I don’t believe in coincidence.
Three of the same club’s girls in less than two weeks? No way.
These ladies were targeted.
The only question now is whether or not it’s personal to one particular member of the club or the club in general.
And that’s too many options.
No wonder Silver called Daniil. He and his club are somewhat powerful in the general area, but this is Oceanside and they’re based in Temecula. Technically, this isn’t their turf, but the girls like the clientele around here better. It tends to be cleaner, safer, and with higher-paying johns.
