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Higham drops a small, clear bag on the table, and everyone leans forward to inspect the contents. “Is that a lump of hair?” Goldie asks, grimacing.
“With a bit of scalp attached,” Ringo says, pointing to the small chunk of flesh on the end of the strands.
“She wasn’t a natural blonde,” Goldie adds.
“No shit,” Ringo muses, truly blown away. “I always thought she was.”
I look up at the pair tiredly. “Are you two done?”
They both sit back, and Higham leaves. “Just let me know where the evidence will be,” he calls.
I slide the bag over to Ringo. “Make sure you don’t contaminate it and put yourself in the frame.”
“Don’t worry.” Goldie whips out a pair of rubber gloves. “I’ve got his back.”
James smiles, raising his phone to his ear. Growls, cuts the call, and dials again. “God damn it.”
“What?” I ask.
“All I ask is that she answers when I call her.” He starts bashing out a text. “Did Rose lose the ability to answer her phone when she was pregnant?”
I chuckle, leaving James to try and get hold of Beau as I dial Brad again, wandering out into the sunshine. He doesn’t answer. “Where the fuck is he?” I dump my arse on a chair and light up.
“Here.”
I look over my shoulder and find him on the threshold of the veranda.
With Pearl.
And she’s alive.
I slowly stand, eyes batting back and forth between them, smoke leaving my mouth on my exhale. Is either of them going to speak? Apparently not, but Brad jerks his head, an order to go inside. So I go. Curious. “Goldie,” Brad says, looking at Pearl, a silent order to watch her. He thinks she’ll bolt? He lowers to a chair at the table, joining James and Ringo, looking as stressed as I’ve ever known him to look.
“Where did you find her?” James asks, appearing unusually worried.
“On a train heading out of Miami.” Brad picks up the packet of Marlboros on the table and lights up. “She’s not saying much.”
“And you haven’t tortured her for information?” I ask.
He lifts his eyes while he holds the flame at the end of his smoke, sucking. He’s warning me. I’ll take it. “King called her on her cell.”
“The cell Otto supplied?” James asks.
“Yes.”
“The one you had a tracker put on?” I ask casually. Because how else did he find her?
“Yes, that one.”
“And why did you have a tracker put on Pearl’s phone?”
He snarls. “Because I was suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Because a man showed up at the club looking for her.”
“Who?”
