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Chapter Eighteen
Aziza
I forced myself to stop imagining Coop eating my peach. I needed to focus on work. First I checked in on Zaki’s correspondence and responded as necessary. Next I initiated a video conference with Gray to see how her initial deep dive into Olivia and Ophelia Austin had gone. When her screen appeared, all I could see was her cat.
“Say hi to my pussy.”
“Gray?” I winced as the orange tabby turned to give me an up close and personal view of his butt. “That is most definitely not pussy.”
“Oh dear, Mr. McFinkberg! Get down! No one wants to see that!” Gray’s disembodied voice rang out from beyond the furry orange butt.
I covered my eyes. “Please, make it stop!”
“Hold up, Zee! I’ll be there in two shakes.”
“Two shakes of what?” I asked in horror, still holding my hands over my eyes.
“Why, a lamb’s tail, of course! Shoo, Mr. McFinkberg!”
The portly orange tabby squalled.
I slowly spread my fingers apart to see Gray had appeared, chestnut hair in a perfect messy top knot and a jumbo sweet tea in hand.
“You named your pussy Mr. McFinkberg?”
“Johnny McFinkberg, to be exact,” she said, without missing a beat.
“I’m not even going to ask.” I waved Cait off as she rounded up the others for a quick tour of the interior and to show them their rooms. “Were you able to connect any dots?”
“Not exactly, but I did find something out. The twins have historically been close, never fighting, never seen apart. But this last year or so, I cannot find a single public event with them together.”
“Well, they are in their what, mid-twenties, now? May just be growing apart, doing their own things.”
“Yes. But only Olivia has been seen in public. When paparazzi have questioned her about it, she’s remained tight-lipped. But I get the impression she’s got something to say.”
“Where’s Ophelia?”
“Speculation is almost always rehab. She’s historically been the more, shall we say, experimental of the twins, but substance abuse has never been reported. Ophelia contracted with a new PR firm about the same time she dropped out of the public eye. So far the new PR person has only commented to say Ophelia is happier and healthier than ever, and is pursuing a path of ‘ethical enlightenment and feminine empowerment’.”
“Whatever that means,” I muttered.
“Seriously. Gotta love PR speak. This new lady is pretty flashy, has this gorgeous head of ombre red hair. And get this, a close source to the sisters commented that Ophelia has been ignited by the flame burning brightly inside of her and will soon rise up and fly. I’m getting…vibes, just not sure what for.”
“I think the vibes you’re looking for are cult.”
I recalled pulling intel on Thea’s situation. Two separate women connected to hunting her down had had orange-red hair. One had been killed during the tornado. The other had given Thea a business card with the name of a women’s empowerment organization when she’d tried to poison Thea with some crazy essential oil.
While it seemed unlikely that these situations could be connected, I also knew there were fewer spiders in the underworld than there were webs.
“Ignited by the flame, huh?” I mused.
If I were back at the island, I could pull up multiple screens and drill down into this myself. But I also knew Gray was beyond capable. “Look into a company called Ardent. Their corporate linguistics and branding heavily utilize fire and flame words. I believe they have a master class or leadership series aimed at empowering women as well as an MLM branch for essential oils. While those branches should appear legit, it’s not unheard of for organizations like these to court heiress and actress types for funding and publicity. See if the companies you red-flagged under the twins’ umbrella have any touchpoints in common with Ardent. Also, while we’re being nosy, check to see if the twins have any affiliation to a Clayton Kenyon.”
“Who’s he?”
“A dirty Bureau guy. Recently deceased, thank God.”
Kenyon had been travelling with both of the redheads when Thea had uncovered his involvement with human trafficking. My connection at the Bureau, Todd Coleman, had just started an internal investigation on Kenyon. Unfortunately, it was way too early to expect actionable intel out of the Bureau anytime soon.
