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“We’ll do some digging on Carrington. What’s his surname again?”
“Lovelace.” I tossed a pebble into the pond and watched the rippling circles grow.
“Shit. That’s his surname? Like Linda?”
“Who’s Linda?”
“Star of Deep Throat.” He chuckled.
“That sounds salacious.”
“It’s a famous ’70s porno. I’m sure they’re unrelated.”
On that crazy note, I bid him farewell and closed the call.
An image of me, wide-mouthed, taking Carson’s big dick to the back of my throat, followed me back to the hall.
Chapter 14
Carson
SomethingtoldmethatCaroline Lovechilde guarded her privacy as she might a guilty secret. Eye contact didn’t seem to come easily to her, but when she did, one felt the full force of her intent. Most of the time, she’d steal the odd glance before returning her focus downwards. I’d seen that same cautious flicker in my mother’s eyes. She’d also suffered at the hands of a monster.
Feeling edgy, I wondered if she knew about me and her daughter, whom I’d now reluctantly pushed away. I was already missing having Savanah’s warm body wrapped around mine.
Caroline pointed at the chair facing the green leather-topped desk. “Take a seat, if you will.”
Twirling a gold fountain pen, she looked down at her sharp red fingernails before raising her eyes to meet mine.
“I called you here for a couple of reasons. I need you to go to Salon Soir over the next couple of nights.”
I nodded. “You want me to spy?”
“Yes.” Her unblinking stare pierced. “It’s come to my attention that there may be some nefarious activities at the back of the casino.”
“Care to elaborate?” That cordoned-off room I’d seen at the opening came to mind. Ethan had joked at the time it was probably for sex parties.
Eyes down, she kept twirling her pen. “Drake relayed to me how he’d witnessed young girls entering through a door at the back.”
I frowned. “You mean like a strip club or something?”
She swivelled her seat and stared out the window. I could see this wasn’t a straightforward conversation. The same for me. It felt strange talking about anything of that smutty nature with Caroline Lovechilde, who, with that dignified manner, came across as straight-laced.
“What exactly did he tell you? I’m surprised he said nothing to me. I only just left him then, at Reboot.”
“That’s because I asked that it remain confidential.” She turned to face me again. “He kept his word, which is a good sign. I need to know I can trust those I employ.”
“Agreed.” I took a breath. “So, what exactly did he tell you?”
“He heard a girl scream, and when he went to investigate, he spied a very young girl crying in Manon’s arms, who then coaxed the distressed girl back inside.”
“By back inside, you mean through the back entrance to the private room?”
She nodded.
“Did Drake report it to Reynard Crisp?”
“He didn’t.” A straight line formed on her mouth. “He came straight to me the next morning.”
