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She was looking at Bailey, and I stood, feeling the EMTs trying to get me to sit on the stretcher. “Don’t start with her,” I said. “You can get her statement, but not till tomorrow. You’ll have to send a detective to the house for her.”
“Colello!”
I cursed. She was going to fight this, but then she softened her voice. “We found a body.”
INLOVINGMEMORY,ANOTHERFRANCISFRIENDVICTIM
A memorial service will happen this Saturday, at one in the afternoon.
Hoda Rai Mansour’s family will be gathering to share favorite memories and stories as they remember the great person Hoda was.
She will live on in our laughter and tears. Please join us, her family.
On behalf ofInside Daily Press, our staff sends their condolences.
We will remain vigilant in our coverage of the wrongful conviction of Quinn Callas. Her attorneys remain confident Miss Callas’s case will be appealed.
Click here to help support Quinn Callas and her innocence.
—Inside Daily Press
SIXTY-ONE
Bailey
I forgot about the footage until Matt brought out the latestInside Daily Pressarticle, and to say it was an article was being gracious. It was a local “news” website, and they were biased. Heavily biased. Case in point, the way they had been reporting on Quinn’s trial. It wasn’t all the time, but it was enough, and they got enough views to be a headache for my family’s publicist.
This recent article came out the day after Hoda’s body was found. The police were able to piece together how she had been involved. They explained that she received a call from an unknown number. Security footage found her walking outside her apartment building, where she was forced at gunpoint to get into a nondescript van. After that, they could only guess that she’d been an unwilling participant in Calhoun’s attempt to kidnap his grandson. From their questioning of some of Calhoun’s men left alive, their orders had been to kidnap Chase Bastian and to execute Kash Colello if given the chance.
I shuddered at the plans Calhoun must’ve had, to try it once again. Then this article came out and, well, my world wasn’t falling apart anymore. Besides grieving someone I wasn’t sure if Icared about or not—but still grieving that she had been pulled into my world’s chaos and destruction—I decided it was time to find out who the hell was behindInside Daily Press.
The result shouldn’t have been shocking.
I hacked into Quinn’s old phone, since she wasn’t using it anymore, and sent a text.
Meet me at Octavo. Friday night. 9 p.m. Back booth under the stairs. I’ll explain there.
Then I waited.
“Why are we here again? You know Kash isn’t too happy we’re not at one of his establishments.” Matt sidled in next to me at our booth.
“We’re here because she’d never go to one of Kash’s establishments.”
We’d been here enough. I picked this booth because until you actually slid into the one side, you couldn’t tell if anyone else was sitting in it. She’d see my side profile, and I was hunched over, so I was hoping she’d see a female trying to hide her identity and guess the wrong person. But she’d slide in, and voilà, there would be Matt.
“No, I’m not,” Kash said.
We weren’t Team Batt right now.
Matt groaned. “Still saying this. I am not a fan of Team KaBatt.”
I grinned.
“Tough shit. And you’re in a nightclub whose owners I do know, but I don’t know them well. I can also say that you will not be attending this nightclub without myself in attendance again.”
“But—”
“Ever again, Matthew. These owners have Mafia affiliations,and that’s all I’m saying about that topic. Drop it and tell me instead the plan of what you’re saying to this reporter.”
