Cook waits for us with his office door open. He stands up when we walk into the waiting room. “Sheila, Quinn, nice to see you. Wow, it’s a party today, huh? To what do I owe the honor? You caught me on my way out, actually. So if we could keep this short, that would be great.”
“Agreed,” Sheila says. “Rushing over here feels like an overreaction, but that’s what you get when you hire amateurs.”
“I’m sure these gentlemen think they have something useful. Let’s hear them out.” Greg’s voice is calm, but his eyes dart to the door.
I pull out the printouts we made back at the club and spread them on his desk. “Just some questions, really.”
He scans the papers. “Physical copies, how quaint. What am I looking at?”
Sinner taps the enhanced view of the guy with the tattoo. “Do you recognize this man?”
Greg makes a show of pulling out his reading glasses and really examining the image. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. Should I?”
“Huh. That seems odd to me since he was leaving your office when we came in the other day.”
He takes a second look. “Hmmm, it could be my nephew. Yes, I think you’re right. You say this was from the nightclub? That could be true. He does work for me sometimes and I was building my information about Ms. Callahan at that time. To better be able to watch out for her and know what sort of mediastrengths and weaknesses we were working with.” His forehead is looking a little sweaty.
Quinn starts to nod, but stops. “Wait. Mom didn’t hire you until after Inferno. You told me that yourself.”
Sheila shifts uneasily in her chair. “I don’t remember the exact date.”
I’m not buying that. “It’s real easy. Either it was before someone drugged your daughter, or it was after, which is it gonna be? That feels like the sort of thing you should remember.”
“This is ridiculous,” she says finally. She glares at Priest. “Even if you think I’m a horrible person, you know I would never do anything to hurt Quinn or her career. Fine, if you must know, I was pointed in Mr. Cook’s direction a few weeks ago, but we didn’t meet in person until our previous meeting. If he’s responsible for any of this, it had nothing to do with me.”
Cook slaps the desk. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t put this on me. You gave me free rein, Sheila. The whole point was keeping her in the media.”
“Not by actually hurting her!” There’s just enough anger in her tone to make me consider believing her.
Quinn pushes away from the table and stands up suddenly. “Wait a minute. This was aboutpublicity? You drugged me at the party for a headline? Was the attack you, too? I thought someone was going to kill me!” She’s fucking furious, and has every right to be.
“Quinn, honey,” Sheila pleads. “This man is sick. I was told he was good at creating buzz. You know we need to keep building your presence so you get noticed. I trusted him to?—”
“Behind my back! How could you?”
“Honey, I?—”
Cook breaks in, “I had eyes on her all the time. It was a tiny dose. No danger at all.”
Sinner laughs at Greg. “No danger? Your guy didn’t see a problem with dosing her up while she was with the three of us? She barely fucking knew us.”
“He saw you posing for pictures with her. How was he supposed to know you weren’t with the show? It all worked out. I don’t see the problem.” Greg’s getting defensive, but he has no idea how much fucking trouble he’s in. Not really.
Not yet.
“And the fucking kidnapping?” Sinner looks ready to go for the throat. “What was the plan? Scare the ever-loving shit out of her and then dump her somewhere? God, you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Sheila! We talked about this.”
“Oh, no we fucking didn’t,” Sheila spits out. “You went way too far. This is over. I want my money back. Come on, Quinn, we’re leaving.”
“We? I don’t even…” Quinn throws her arms up, stunned speechless. “Where was ‘we’ when you were making these decisions without me? And then you had the audacity to get mad at me for not following the script nobody told me about?” She stops and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second. “I’m going back to my apartment, and I’m going to need a couple days to cool off. Can you give me that? The only reason I’m not calling the police right now is because I need time to think about it and talk to the men who are actually watching out for me.”
With her fists clenched tightly, she whirls away from Sheila, stomps to the door and tears it open so hard it slams against the wall. Priest follows her out, leaving me and Sinner in there with the rats.
Sinner casually kicks the door closed again. He slips a hand into his cut and smoothly draws his piece, cocking it and aiming straight at Cook’s head. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to refund their money, and hope that girl never wakes up scared in the middle of the night.” He glances at Sheila. “You’re her mother and I know that still means something to her for some god forsaken reason. Leave.”
She looks at me, expecting what exactly? Sympathy?
