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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The lemon curd cake is a familiar comfort to me. But you can stun me with a wet noodle at the dish Stacey Evans serves from her mouth.
“So he’s got a sexy friend. He’s on the same painting crew, and he’s got these tattoo sleeves, and I’ve never been with a man with tattoos, and it’s so hot.”
“So, both of them?” I’m opening an investigation into Stacey’s XXX-rated sex life. What’s gotten into this woman? A hot painter and his best friend, apparently. “You slept with both of them? Together?”
Who am I to judge?
“There’s no sleeping,” she whispers. “No bed either. We use the formal living room where Gentry entertains his asshole friends.” A chunk of blueberry muffin pops into her smiling mouth. “That’s what makes it even hotter.”
If the world could harness the wrath of a woman pissed off, all its problems would be solved. There’s enough of us getting so damn pissed, watch out. Until then, we deserve to fuck along the way, given how the world has fucked so many of us so far.
And Stacey Evans is leading by example.
“Just don’t get caught,” I beg her. “I want you to be happy, but I worry what Gentry will do if he finds out.”
Stacey shrugs. Like her heart’s been lonely for so long. Like Gentry’s so cruel, any kindness from others overwhelms her. It’s obvious; she’s so desperate for the touch of another person that she’s willing to risk all to get it.
“I’m serious.” I touch her hand. “He’ll kick your dad out of that facility for sure, but what will Gentry do to you? He’s far more evil than you imagine.”
I can’t tell Stacey everything.
How I’m working with the FBI on this case now. Arresting Claude Olan Turner III at that fundraising gala in Charleston for assaulting his wife was my lucky break.
He was the thread I needed to pull. I found an FBI agent willing to dig into how Turner and Gentry work together. How Gentry moves people in Turner’s vans and where they go. The open case on Cam Le’s disappearance was enough for the agent to start her own cyber investigation.
With Turner, we got most of the transactions. How he rents Gentry’s condos. How he transports himself and others in his vans around the island. How they party on Gentry’s yacht, but that’s not illegal.
What is illegal is what I suspect Gentry’s doing—running sex workers through his condos for his clients. Through surveillance, we can catch him doing that eventually. Because I fear most of those women are being exploited, drugged even. That’s Gentry’s M.O. That’s what he did to Redix.
And he’s selling this all under the guise of “golf tours.” I need to find the damn golf course, the final guilty transaction he uses to cover it all up.
Because if you can’t catch a man red-handed, catch him with green in it. With the money he exchanges for his crimes.
It’s not a blood-pumping action scene or a hostage scenario. No, it takes tedious work, so I’m sitting on the point of a needle, hoping to bust Gentry the right way, the long way. And I’m sweating bullets at what his wife’s doing in the meantime.
“I’ll be fine.” Stacey squeezes my hand back. “I’m going through his files for you. I’m looking for proof because I’m smarter than you know.”
“Oh, I know. What do they say about blondes? You’re the dumbass if you believe it.”
She laughs before sipping her tea. The corner where we sit in this cafe feels like a retreat from the madness lately. If my mind isn’t on someone else’s drama, it’s on mine.
My mama told Redix about TJ.
That can ruin so many lives: his, his family’s, my parents’. They’ll all suffer if what I started ever gets out. And what Mama said about her time if it does? That’s the worst.
Pamela and Cam are out there somewhere. And Gentry has them.
I can’t let my mind dwell on what they have to endure. I can’t let my heart feel it yet. It’ll fill me with anguish and rage that’ll cloud my logic. I’ve gotta stay focused and find them.
Derek Baucom is lurking on this island.
What is his vendetta against Redix? Is he obsessed with Renie? Does he want his son? Too much evil motivates a man who’s hurt the ones I love.
Redix was outed.
Paparazzi are everywhere. He and his family are prisoners in his world. Yeah, it’s a rich one, but no one wants to live trapped.
