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“Now is not a good time,” she said, her voice crackling over the speaker.
“This can’t wait. It’s very important.”
He waited. A minute passed. Finally, he heard the deadbolt turn. The door opened revealing Imani dressed in a bathrobe.
“Really not a good time,” she said.
Less than twenty-four hours.It was a new record in Jack’s experience—the time it took for a client to fall out of love with the lawyer who’d kept them out of prison.
“I’ll be quick,” he said, and Imani led him to the kitchen. She stood on the chef’s side of the counter with arms folded. Jack sat on the barstool. The discreet undercabinet lighting gave the room a soft glow.
“Don’t take this personally,” she said, “but I’m putting the last few months of my life completely behind me. You’re a big part of that world.”
“I didn’t come over to hang out.”
“I know exactly why you came.”
Jack wondered how she could possibly know—unless it was her way of telling him it was about time he figured it out. “You do?”
“Yes. I get it. After all that’s happened, you must have something to get off your chest. So, say it now. You have the floor,” she said with a wave of her arm.
Jack paused to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure where to start, so he went all the way back to the beginning.
“How hard did Vladimir Kava have to push you to start the ‘go pirate’ campaign?”
She laughed nervously. “What?”
“Nobody benefited more from it than him.”
“That doesn’t mean I was doing itforhim.”
“I didn’t say you were doing him a favor,” Jack said. “I assume he was blackmailing you. The same way Tyler McCormick did.”
More nervous laughter. “Jack, you are way off.”
Jack leveled his gaze. “I spoke to Tyler McCormick’s cousin. They both worked that trip you and Shaky took to the Bahamas on Kava’s boat. I know Tyler tried to blackmail you. Maybe he had pictures of Shaky having sex with underage girls. I’m guessing you knew about it. Maybe you even participated in it. In real life.Irl.”
The façade of denial withered away. “I was barely twenty years old, Jack. No longer young enough for Shaky. Of course, in his mind it was allmyidea. Iforcedhim.”
She was picking up where the civil case had left off: Who was the “victim” in their twisted relationship? Jack reminded himself that he was dealing with a pop star—a trained performer who knew how to push an audience’s buttons.
“I read the text messages between you and Shaky,” he said. “You knew exactly what you were getting into. You would have done a private concert for Jeffrey Epstein, as long as the money and the girls were there. And you would stop at nothing to keep it quiet. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
Some people might have been defensive. Imani drew on her street toughness. “That’s a shame, Jack. I actually liked you.”
“We were never friends.”
“No, we weren’t. But it’s still a shame. A damn shame you know too much.”
The pocket door to the dining room slid open. The dining room was dark, but there was enough kitchen light to illuminate the man in the doorway.
Jack took a good look at his face, and it was immediately clear why no one had ever found the body of Amongus Sicario.
“You were never shot,” said Jack.
Amongus raised a pistol and pointed it straight at Jack. “Have you not seen the BOLO?”
Jack hadn’t. He looked at Imani.
