I sit back in my chair, disgruntled that Natalia is privy to the conversation when I’m not.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Corinne drawls, slumped back in her chair,arms crossed over her chest, annoyance clear as day with her downturned lips and narrowed eyes.
I sigh, nodding in camaraderie with Corinne in our moment of being on the outside.
Several moments pass as more information appears to be shared. When Alyssa says, “Thank you,” I know Chelsea has left the room.
She turns back to the table, taking a deep breath.
“Sierra’s uncle approached Sierra about an opportunity to make a lot of cash by running drugs and washing money for a man that remained anonymous. Sierra brought Chelsea and another friend, Ashley Evans, into the fold.”
“Ashley is the girl from Alyssa’s dream,” Natalia interjects, and my eyebrows lift.
“Dead?” I ask.
Alyssa shakes her head. “Not yet, but she will be tomorrow, most likely. Thursday is the day they deliver the money to a set of bars who are in on the money-laundering part of things.”
“Let me guess, a bar in Falls Haven?” I say, and Alyssa nods once.
“We’ve gotta go,” I say, preparing to stand from the table, but Natalia lifts her hands to stop me.
“There’s more that’s crucial to this investigation, Detective.”
Gone is the flirty tone and inappropriate touching. Now, Natalia is all business, determined to relay the information that Chelsea Grayson found important enough to share.
“Chelsea said that they’d recently started getting threatened by an unknown person. The person used voice-altering technology, so she can’t even say whether it was a man or a woman. But the person accused the girls of encroaching on their territory. She said that Sierra’s uncle was warned, but he brushed it off like it was no big deal. She thinks whoever’s territory it was is who killed them.”
“Turf war,” I say, to nobody in particular. “Do you think this has something to do with the Order of Providence?”
“Chelsea was working for the Order. She doesn’t know the members or who was at the top, but Sierra’s uncle definitely knew something.” Alyssa looks to me when she says, “Sierra’s uncle is Harlan Abbott. The man from the underground poker deal in Florida.”
“Florida? He’s managing these girls from Florida?” I say in disbelief.
This is much bigger than we thought.
“She was working at another underground poker lounge in Falls Haven. One that sounds awfully similar to the one under the Montgomery Estate,” she says. “There’s a guy there who goes by the name of Rocco. He gives them the envelopes before they leave the secret poker site on Thursday morning. They don’t want them moving around with wads of cash for long.”
“Did she tell you what happened to her? The coroner’s report says that she had blunt-force trauma to the head,” I say, and Alyssa nods.
“She was flirting with a guy that sounds like the same person from my dream. She started to feel lightheaded and said she was going to leave. The last thing she remembers is waking up on a boat. She thinks she was hit over the head. She doesn’t remember anything after that.”
“He’s drugging them,” I say, and Alyssa’s eyes darken, as though she hadn’t put that together yet.
“Where’s the site of the poker games in Falls Haven?”
Alyssa’s face falls. “She wouldn’t tell me, because she said my life would be in grave danger if she did.”
My eyes close, frustration mounting. “You’ve already been exposed to one of these places that’s likely linked. How are you not already in danger?”
“They haven’t pieced together that I’m any more than a friend of an important friend. Apparently, Jill must be having an affair with Harlan, so he trusts that she’s vetted us. We know Jill from college, not Knox Harbor. He likely has no idea how close I am to their other operations.”
I rake my hand back through my hair. “This is all so damn convoluted. What the hell are the chances that you’d run into some underground activity in Florida that’s connected to home? Connected to deaths that you dreamed about?”
Natalia laughs, but it lacks humor. “Welcome to the complex cosmos, where embracing your talents often means becoming a pawn for some cosmic puppeteer.”
Alyssa’s face pales, and my own stomach twists uncomfortably.
“And this is what you want for me?” Corinne exclaims. “Why do you hate me?”
