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37
Ryder tapped the screen that displayed Montgomery’s name. Sighing heavily, he raised it to his ear, bracing himself for whatever additional complications awaited him. “Yeah?” he grumbled into the phone.
“I need you at the manor,” Montgomery’s voice crackled into his ear. “The police are on their way.”
He walked out of the bathroom and glanced at Nita. She lay back on the bed, eyes closed and blankets pulled up to her chin. He wouldn’t be surprised if she slept twelve hours straight after what she’d been through.
He walked out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him.
“You called the cops?” he asked, uncertain if that was the best idea. “Does Hartley know?”
“I left her a message, but since she still screening my calls, I’m not sure when she’ll get it,” Montgomery replied. “What matters is that we need to control the narrative. They registered the club as an entertainment company, so tell the police it was just a fancy costume party, nothing more. You know. Be flexible with the truth.”
“Wait, what do you mean,Ishould tell the cops about the party? I report to Hartley and I’m not allowed to talk to anybody about anything,” he argued, walking to the kitchenette. He filled a kettle with water and set it on the base, flipping the on switch.
“It’s definitely not mine. I have no legal standing here,” Montgomery said.
“And yet you called the cops,” he murmured.
“Somebody had to,” Montgomery defended.
“Did you call any of the other owners? They’re the ones who should talk to the cops,” he said.
He knew the implications of revealing the club’s illegal activities to anybody, let alone the police. He also knew getting tangled up with law enforcement could fuck up his visitation with Blaze if any of this got back to Chicago. And if he knew anything about cops, they followed their own playbooks on whether to fuck up somebody’s life.
He searched for a mug and some tea as he listened to Montgomery sigh in frustration.
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell them about any of this,” Montgomery said. “If Hartley knew I was here, she’d probably call the police and have me arrested.”
“That’s a good point,” he said, dropping the tea bag into the mug. “Whyareyou here?”
“Because I thought Hartley was in danger. And I think she still is. The dead body proves it,” Montgomery stated, then sighed in frustration again. “Look, just come up to the manor and talk to the police with me. If Hartley gets my message, she’ll call the other women and figure out our next steps. In the meantime, I’m hoping my connection at least got us a sympathetic investigator.”
“Sympathetic?”
“Cavendish has many government officials who’d rather none of this came to light, especially the one who introduced me to the club a few years back,” Montgomery confided. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“You’ll see me when you see me,” Ryder corrected, and hung up before the man could argue.
There was no getting around it; he had to go to the manor. But it meant leaving Nita alone, and that thought gnawed at him.
He was suspicious of Montgomery and Jackal, but the reality was that Rogue had likely come back to exact some kind of sabotage. He’d probably used the dead man’s access band to trick the staff. The question was, did Rogue know about the apartment over the security facilities?
He tried to remember what Nita had told him when she’d shown it to him. Only theformerhead of security knew, so he had to hope Rogue probably didn’t have access to the apartment. She should be safe up here until he got back. He’d just make sure he wasn’t long.
Which brought his mind around to another problem. How to extricate himself from the tangled web of the Cavendish Club and the night’s misadventures.
The boiling kettle clicked off and he poured the steaming water into a mug. He watched as the colors of the tea infused the liquid, jerking the tag to speed up the process.
He would be as honest as he could. The fact was, he hadn’t seen the dead body. He’d provided security to a private party, then raced to find a co-worker who had disappeared. Maybe they’d want him to go into town to make an official statement, but maybe Montgomery would get the cop to brush everything under the carpet so he could head home.
Home, he thought. To Blaze, to his forge, to more fights with Lynne about visitation.
He sighed. The last thing he needed was any of this to get back to her. No, he’d make his statement to the police, check in on Nita, and head home like this was just another job completed.
Picking up the mug of tea, he returned to the bedroom.
Nita lay on her side, facing away from the door. He approached quietly and set the mug on the bedside table. Just as he let it go, she grabbed his hand.
