Her Wanton Ways [Notorious Nephilim 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Carolyn Rosewood

  Zach tapped the Trib. “The woman walking into the Rose and Leather Club with Scott Malloy is Betsy, one of our staff, not Joelle Albright.”

  “And Joelle is his ex-fiancé,” said Emmett. “How do we know she’s not working with both of them? How do we know she’s an ex, for that matter?”

  “There are too many coincidences, regardless. I’m firing her.”

  “We should ask Joelle if she knows Betsy,” said Cristian.

  Zach frowned. “Why?”

  “She’s known Scott a long time. Maybe she knows something about Betsy that would help us?”

  “Not if she’s working with her,” said Emmett.

  “No,” said Blade and Cristian at the same time. Cristian cut his gaze sharply toward Blade. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to see he was ready to defend Joelle, no matter what. Blade wasn’t even bothering to hide his feelings.

  “I should have listened more carefully instead of asking her to leave,” said Blade. He pointed toward the newspaper. “This story proves Betsy is the one who’s been giving Scott information, not Joelle. Scott knows too much about this place, and Joelle was here barely a week. Betsy has been here almost an entire year. I believe Joelle’s story.”

  “So do I,” said Cristian.

  “You were both fucking her,” said Zach. “You aren’t thinking clearly about this.”

  Blade leaned forward. “Zach, my thoughts have never been clearer.”

  “Hang on a minute,” said Sterling. “What Cristian and Blade are saying makes sense. Betsy has been working here for almost a year. If Joelle is part of this, why did she come here now looking for information? What could she possibly have gained that Scott hasn’t already learned from Betsy?”

  Zach glared at him. “A woman who is after sensitive information can get more of it in bed with one of us than she can by cleaning our guests’ rooms.”

  “But Betsy has access to places in the resort our guests don’t,” said Sterling. “And we each have been trying to figure out how Scott was able to find out so much about this place.”

  “Well, maybe Scott was looking for something different, so he sent Joelle,” said Zach.

  “Like what?” Leo laughed. “Come on, Zach. Think about that for a moment. Betsy is staff. She knows our secret. Even if she told Scott, he can’t use that information. He’d be laughed out of city government. What could Joelle have told him that would hurt us? No. I think Blade and Cristian are right. I think Joelle made a huge error in judgment by not telling them she knew Scott when she had her first chance to do so, but I don’t think she’s in league with him. I think we should concentrate on Betsy. The only question is, do we fire her or wait for her to contact Scott again so we can catch her in the act?”

  * * * *

  As the sun was setting, Joelle and Peggy sat outside Scott’s townhouse, debating. They’d driven Peggy’s car, as hers was less likely to be recognized than Joelle’s flashy convertible.

  “He isn’t even in Chicago,” said Peggy. “I had Mark check with his contacts in the mayor’s office. Scott is in Springfield touring the recent storm damage, along with other aldermen who hope to run for state government one day. They’ll be there for at least another day, maybe more.”

  “His nosy neighbor Miss Latch keeps an eye on things when he isn’t here.”

  Peggy grinned. “Not tonight. You know the butcher at Sam’s Deli? The one who flirts with everyone that comes in? He and Miss Latch are in New York City.”

  Joelle stared at her roommate. “How do you know that?”

  “Purely by accident. I was in there buying a few things the other day, and two of the other employees were gossiping about it. Apparently Scott was quite upset to find out Miss Latch wouldn’t be around, and Miss Latch had been bragging about how she told him he could just find someone else to watch his place because she was going to New York City with a man.”

  “So who’s watching it?”

  Peggy shrugged. “Maybe no one. It’s not like he needs anything done. No pets to take care of, and he can ask the post office to hold his mail. Joelle, the longer we sit here parked on the street, the more we risk drawing attention to ourselves. I say we just waltz in there, and if anyone asks, we can always tell them we’re the ones watching the house for Scott.”

  “His neighbors all know me.”

  “Then we’ll hurry inside so no one gets a good look at you. Put on your scarf. That’ll hide your hair.”

  “But what if he changed the locks?”

  Peggy threw up her hands in frustration and opened the driver’s side door. “Then we can’t get in, and we’ll have to come up with another way to dig up dirt. Let’s go.”

  Joelle hadn’t expected an onslaught of memories as she stepped inside, but what surprised her was the fact they didn’t cause her grief. It was more a feeling of embarrassment that she’d stayed with this man for so long.

  It didn’t look as though he’d changed a thing since their breakup. The same afghan his great aunt had made for him was thrown across the back of his recliner, and his house plants all needed watering. The place even smelled the same—a combination of Aqua Velva aftershave and pipe tobacco.

  “Where are the yearbooks?” asked Peggy.

  “Spare room closet shelf, lined up in alphabetical then chronological order.”

  Peggy snickered as they climbed the stairs. When they passed his bedroom, Joelle glanced at the bed and a wave of nausea washed over her. Had Betsy Simpson fucked him there as well? She mentally shook away the thought and headed for the spare room.

  The Georgetown yearbooks were on the shelf where she’d last seen them. “Should we look through them here or take them with us?”

  “We don’t want to have to come back. You look, I’ll keep watch.” Peggy stood in front of the window and peered through the slats in the blinds.

  Joelle pulled the yearbook from his senior year off the shelf and sat on the bed. She flipped to the photos and swore so loudly when she found Barbara “Betsy” Simpson’s picture that Peggy spun around, wild eyed.

  “What? What happened?”

  “I know where I’ve heard her name before.” Joelle’s heart hammered in her ears. “He actually introduced me to her when we were first dating. We were at some country club party our parents had insisted we attend. I remember her feline eyes, gleaming with lust as she ignored me and fixed her gaze on Scott. She was drunk, and at the time I shrugged it off to too much booze.”

  Joelle closed the book and hugged her knees. “Oh my God. He’s probably been fucking this woman for years. Why the hell didn’t he marry her? Why did he start dating me? Why couldn’t he have just left me the hell alone?”

  Peggy sat next to her and patted her arm. “Well, at least now you know he not only was a bastard, he was a lying, cheating bastard. I’m so sorry, hon.”

  Joelle shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t even care about that. But I saw this woman at Lilith’s Playground.”

  Peggy looked confused. “Was she a guest?”

  “A maid. She came in to clean my room, Peggy. I thought I recognized her and asked if we’d met. The look on her face…I should have put two and two together, but I was a bit preoccupied at the time.”

  “Jesus Christ,” whispered Peggy. “You don’t think…”

  “Oh yeah. That’s exactly what I think. When Cristian told me what Scott was doing, I remember wondering how he’d gotten so much information about the resort. But of course I didn’t ask. I didn’t say anything.”

  “Joelle, it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  “I know, but I have to warn them.”

  “What?”

  “I have to tell them they have a snitch working for them.”

  “Are you kidding me? They kicked you out. You spent a week doing things in bed with them that you’ve never even fantasized about, and then they told you to leave, without even giving you a chance to explain.”

  Joelle buried her face in her hands. Sh
e was so confused. This had been the most horrible day of her life. She couldn’t get their scents or their eyes out of her thoughts. How could she explain this to anyone when she couldn’t even come to terms with it herself?

  “And not just in bed. On a pool table, in a pool—an actual swimming pool—outside on the grass…Joelle, you were just a plaything to them. How can you want to help them?”

  “You weren’t there. You don’t understand. It wasn’t like that. Peggy, I’ve waited my entire adult life to find men like Blade and Cristian.”

  “They’re not men.”

  “You know what I mean. Please—you’re my best friend. If you aren’t behind me on this, I have no one else to turn to. I can accept that they don’t want me. But I will not let Scott win. I will not let him do this just to further his own career.”

  “You really love them. My God…you really do love them.”

  Joelle looked into Peggy’s eyes. “I do. I won’t get over this, Peg. Nothing will ever be the same for me again.”

  Peggy sighed and fell back against the bed, placing her hands behind her head the way she did when she was hatching a plan. “Okay, then. Why stop at just telling them they have a snitch? They’ll fire her and that will be that. It won’t stop Scott.”

  “Scott is finished. The article in the Trib took care of that.”

  Peggy gave her a droll look. “You know politics. People will forget this and move on. It might cause a blip in the radar, but it won’t necessarily ruin him.”

  “So, what are you suggesting we do?”

  Peggy sat up, her eyes shining with the thrill of the hunt. “Bury him. The article said there were other pictures. I think if we look hard enough in this very townhouse, we just might find something.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Joelle, he’s obviously been carrying on with this woman for a long time. I’m betting she’s married or there’s some other reason why he didn’t just propose to her. Let’s see if we can dig up some dirt that will not only save your angels and their resort, but will stop Scott for good.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Blade drummed his finger on the tabletop. “It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Betsy took a job here. What else does it say in there?”

  Zach sighed heavily. “That’s it, Blade. She’s from Madison, Wisconsin, and she has a degree from Georgetown University. Like I said, I had no time to dig into her past. We needed staff, and we needed them quickly, or we wouldn’t have been able to provide our current standard of service to our guests.”

  “She has to know someone who works here, or did work here, or was a guest here. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “That will take time to sort out.”

  “What will?” asked Cristian.

  Zach chuckled. “Going through records for the past couple of years to see who might have a connection to Barbara ‘Betsy’ Simpson. I suggest you and Blade grab some coffee and come with me.”

  “Fuck,” muttered Cristian as he rose from his seat.

  “It’s only fair,” said Emmett. “But just to show you I’m not quite as upset with you two as Zach is, I’ll help.”

  Emmett clapped Blade on the back as they left the room. As Blade walked with the others to Zach’s office, he wondered if Joelle had made it safely home. He should telephone her, just to make sure. Then again, he didn’t imagine she’d ever want to hear from any of them again. Guilt mixed with pain coursed through him slowly, until the blood in his veins felt like daggers, stabbing him in every inch of his body.

  He missed her. Her scent, her touch, her easy laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled like jewels whenever she was happy or aroused. How the hell had he let this happen? Why hadn’t he simply kept his cool and listened to her side of the story? Now she was gone. And nothing for him would ever be the same again.

  * * * *

  Joelle rose and peered out the blinds. No one was out, and this street never had heavy traffic. Scott was miles away. They had all night to search if need be. “Okay. Where should we start?”

  “Well, does he keep his porn in his sock drawer like Mark does?”

  Joelle laughed. “Porn? Scott? Peggy, I have never seen porn in this townhouse. If he has any, it’s hidden behind the walls.”

  “All right then. How about an office, or a room where you were never allowed?”

  “He has an office up here, but I’ve been in it. Nothing but a desk, a filing cabinet, and an old typewriter.”

  “Let’s go look anyway, but first I still think we should check his dresser drawers.”

  “Do I have to?”

  Peggy chuckled. “No, you don’t. I’ll go look. I’m not too proud to dig through a man’s underwear.”

  “I’ll check his office.” Joelle felt like a criminal walking into Scott’s office. She’d rarely been in here. On weekends when she’d stay with him, he usually spent most of Sunday afternoon in here while she caught up on her reading. The place reeked of pipe tobacco, and Joelle wondered how he breathed in here.

  Peggy meant well, but they weren’t going to find anything incriminating in this house. If Scott had been leading a secret life, it was so secret he’d been able to keep it from her for over three years. Maybe the person they should be talking to was Robert Pastor?

  What had prompted Mr. Pastor to have that picture taken? Had he taken it himself? And who was the mysterious source that claimed there were more pictures? Obviously Scott was seeing Betsy, but the only thing the photo actually proved was that they’d gone to a sex club once. So how had someone known to snap that picture on that particular day? Had Robert Pastor or someone else hired a private investigator to follow Scott?

  Joelle flipped through the papers on his desk, but they were innocuous, just as she’d known they would be. His desk drawer was as neat as a pin. Pens, pencils, and paper clips all lined up in their own compartments. Even his eraser had a spot. Had he always been this fastidious? Yes, he had been. Whereas she’d once admired his organization skills, now she found them prissy and rigid.

  She tried to open the filing cabinet and found it locked. She couldn’t remember if he’d always kept it locked. She’d never had a reason to go into his files. Opening the desk drawer again, she searched for a key, but didn’t see one. The two deeper desk drawers were filled with folders that contained receipts for paid utilities and other household accounts. She rifled through them but didn’t see any photos or other evidence he’d been visiting private sex clubs. This was a waste of their time.

  “Find anything?” Peggy walked into the room.

  “Only a locked filing cabinet.”

  “Oh-ho…”

  “How about you? Any hidden porn?”

  Peggy began to feel underneath the furniture. “No, but I did find out your ex-fiancé has terrible taste in boxers. Boring!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for a key.”

  Joelle let out a loud sigh. “Peggy, this is useless. His underwear drawer proves it. Boring—that describes Scott in a nutshell.”

  “You saw the photo, Joelle. He had his arm around another woman, and they were going into a private sex club. Does that sound like—hello there…”

  Peggy stood up with a triumphant smile on her face, and holding a silver key in her right hand. “Let’s see what this opens, shall we?”

  Joelle laughed at her singsong voice as she watched Peggy fit the key into the lock at the top of filing cabinet. She pulled open the top drawer, then grinned at Joelle. “You should be the one to make any discoveries. You’re the jilted ex, after all.”

  “I didn’t get jilted.”

  “No, but he cheated on you.”

  Joelle began to flip through the folders. “We don’t know that for certain. That could have been the first time they went there.” Joelle opened the second drawer, moved the folders around, and frowned. “There’s something underneath them.”

  “What?” Peggy crowded next to her and peered inside.

 
; Joelle reached under the folders and pulled out a manila envelope, holding it at arm’s length with two fingers as though it might bite her. “I can’t look inside.”

  “Yes, you can.” Peggy’s eyes gleamed.

  Joelle’s palms grew damp. She suddenly didn’t want to know. Every rotten thing Scott had ever said to her when she tried to get him to do something different in the bedroom came rushing back at her like a strong wind. His words had hurt her and made her feel sordid. The idea that he could have been slinking around sex clubs with this Betsy woman made her feel betrayed and cheap. How dare he? What a fucking hypocrite!

  “Go on,” said Peggy gently. “You have to know.”

  Joelle took a deep breath, undid the string, and reached inside. There was a single hand-written piece of paper with Rose and Leather listed at the top. Six additional names followed, none of which Joelle recognized, but all had addresses in Chicago, as well as telephone numbers and names written next to them. “These must be other clubs they went to.”

  She handed the paper to Peggy, who read it then let out a low whistle. “What else is in there?”

  Joelle handed the envelope to Peggy. “I can’t.”

  Peggy pulled out dozens of snapshots. Joelle watched her face as she flipped through them.

  “More pictures of them going into clubs?”

  “Worse. These are pictures of them…together.” Peggy turned one over. “The name of the club and the date.” She turned each one over, then glanced at Joelle. “Don’t ask how far back the dates go.” Peggy stuffed the photos back into the envelope.

  Joelle didn’t feel angry or even sad. The faces that rose in her mind weren’t those of Scott or Betsy. They were of Blade and his beautiful blue eyes and Cristian’s laughing gray ones. She had to get this information to them, and she had to give these photographs to someone who could nail Scott to the wall for good. “Does Mark have any contacts at the Trib?”

  * * * *

  Blade spent two nights on the balcony of his suite, watching first the stars then the sunrise. When daylight had come the day before, he’d barely moved. He hadn’t even gone to the office and tried to work. It had seemed pointless. Now, it was morning again, and he was still watching the sky.