My phone beeped to signal an incoming text. When I scrolled to see who’d sent it, the number was unfamiliar, but as soon as I began to read, I realized who it was.
“It’s a text from Mikala Leone, Wade’s friend from foster care. I called her yesterday and left a voice mail. She’s willing to talk to me, but she said she only has a few seconds on her break. So hold on.”
Win nodded as he pulled up to where our GPS had led us—a big steel and brick warehouse. He slowed for a moment to assess the building then drove past the address and pulled off to the side of the road, away from our destination, so I could call Mikala.
She picked up on the first ring, her sweet, soft voice hesitant. “Miss Cartwright?”
“Please, call me Stevie, Mikala. I hope I’m not disturbing your work.”
“No worries. I’m a nurse,” she answered, her tone cheerful and pleasant. “I work the night shift in the ER, so I’m on break. How can I help you with Wade?”
“I’m going to put you on speakerphone—are you okay with that?”
“Your boyfriend’s there, right? Win, is it? Kirkland told me all about how you work as a team and how yummy he is, so it’s fine. I have nothing to hide.”
Of course Kirkland thought Win was yummy. Who in the free world didn’t? Though, this time, hearing that didn’t bother me even a little.
Fighting a giggle, I settled in and put the phone on speaker. “First, my deepest condolences. I don’t know how close your friendship was with Wade, but I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I heard her clear her throat and sniffle before she said, “We were all we had back in the day, and we stayed in pretty close contact over the years, even after he moved to Seattle. I couldn’t believe it when Kirkland called to tell me what happened.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking you a couple of questions about Wade and his…well, his past. Is there anything you’d be afraid to tell Kirkland about Wade that might upset him? Something he didn’t know about Wade?”
There was a long pause, one filled with palpable hesitation I could have cut with a knife, and then she said, “Maybe… I didn’t ever ask Wade, because it’s none of my business what he told Kirkland, and when Wade took the job selling pharmaceuticals, I figured there was no point in my asking at all…”
I held my breath and closed my eyes. “No point in asking what, Mikala?”
She rasped a sigh. “Listen, Wade did some things to make ends meet in Seattle for a while when he couldn’t get a job. It wasn’t until just the last year or so that he was really able to get his feet firmly planted in his current job before he…before he died. I…I think a lot of that had to do with meeting Kirkland and falling in love with him.”
I looked at Win, knowing we were going to learn something that was going to upset Kirkland. I felt it burning up my gut.
But I took the plunge and asked anyway. “Are you comfortable telling me what kind of jobs he had?”
“Do you think it might help find out who killed him?” she asked softly, her voice watery. “Because it’s really going to upset Kirkland, Stevie. I know it will, and I don’t want that. He’s got enough on his plate. And Wade didn’t ever want me to talk about it after I found out, but I was glad he was done with it when he met Kirkland, so I never brought it up. He’d moved on. He got his degree, things were going so well for him…”
“I think anything at this point that can lead us to a possible suspect might help find Wade’s killer, Mikala. We really have nothing, and as far as I know, the police have no solid leads either.”
I heard her blow out a breath, and then she said, “First let me say this, Wade had to fight for everything after he left foster care. I was one of the lucky ones. I got a scholarship to nursing school and it took me a while, but I made it. But Wade…well, he drifted for a really long time here in California. He worked odd jobs, minimum-wage type stuff, until he moved to Seattle—and suddenly he came into some money. He was able to take some college courses and get his degree. But I didn’t know what had changed, and he was always very vague about what he was doing to make ends meet.”
Licking my dry lips, now I blew out a breath. “So his lifestyle drastically changed once he moved to Seattle?”
“Oh, he definitely upgraded, and I asked him about it when I came to see him. It was just after he’d met Kirkland, in fact. Like, in the very early stages of their first couple of dates.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said I shouldn’t worry about it, and that I should just be happy for this newfound good luck. But then one night while he was out grabbing us some takeout, I needed a towel for a shower, and Wade wasn’t the most organized. I looked in the most obvious place, which would have been the linen closet by the bathroom, right? But I didn’t find any, so I went hunting and I came across some… some things I didn’t really understand at first…”
I fought to remain calm, but for a moment, with the way Mikala said “things,” I found myself internally praying she didn’t find a serial killer tool kit.
“What were they?”
“A…a mask. Something called a ball gag, a collar that I thought was a dog collar and…and business card for a place called Divinia’s.”
Told you that card meant something, didn’t I?
Chapter 14
My jaw nearly dropped to my lap and I had to fight a gasp as I tried to compose myself. Shifting positions in my seat, I clenched my icy fingers together. “Okay, so I’m assuming you asked about the items you found, am I right?”
I heard her swallow, the sound clear and crisp. “I did, and he said he’d been working as a male dominant at this place called Divinia’s. In fact, he specifically left California for this job. They, in his words, recruited him. I don’t know the particulars of how they go about it, but that’s what he called it. Recruitment. It was some sort of super-exclusive, super-on-the-down-low club where rich men and women paid a lot of money to fulfill their fantasies, and that was how he’d paid for college and was able to afford his really swanky Seattle apartment—because they sure don’t come cheap.”
I had to grab the arm between our seats in order to keep from pitching forward in a dead faint at all this new information.
My silence was so long, Mikala said, “Stevie? Are you still there?”
Clearing my throat, I replied, “Yes. Sorry. I guess I was caught off guard, too. So he was making a lot of money as a dominant—enough to put him through college. When did he stop working at this club?”
“Shortly after he met Kirkland, who he was just starting to date when I came to visit. He said working at the club had been good for a little while, that he’d packed away a bunch of money, made a couple of contacts, but then he met someone, a client, he fell hard for and it got messy. The relationship—or what he said he thought was a relationship—went bad. So he’d decided to leave, and meeting Kirkland cinched the deal for him.”
“He was in a relationship with someone he met at the club?” I squeaked. This could change the landscape of everything.
“Uh-huh, and all he would tell me was it was strictly forbidden by Divinia’s club policy to see anyone outside the club, but that it was over anyway, and had been for several months, and that he was trying to move on and forget it ever happened. That was when he’d just nabbed this really great job and met Kirkland.”
Holy Hannah. “Did you get the impression he still loved this person—even though their affair was over, Mikala?”
“No. Absolutely not. He made that very clear to me. He said at first he was broken-hearted, but he’d come to realize this person was no good and he regretted ever getting involved at all because it became so messy.”
“Do you know if the person he was referring to was a man or a woman?”
“I don’t know that either. But at that point, as far as I could see, he was taking a healthy approach by moving on, so I didn’t care if it was a man or a woman. I was just glad he was out of there. Anyway, after that night and our conver
sation…well, after that, things got really serious between him and Kirkland, and you know the rest of the story. They got married and were supposed to live happily ever after. I really thought he’d finally found the love he deserved. But now…” Her voice hitched and she began to softly sob, tearing my heart out. “He was so, so close.”
Gripping my hands together, I forced myself not to sob right along with her. “Oh, Mikala. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I can do to make this better, but please know my heart aches for you and for Kirkland. I didn’t know Wade well, but he was always so lovely.”
Mikala sniffed and cleared her throat. “He was. He was the best, and I loved him like the brother I never had. I don’t know who would do something so awful to him!”
Looking to Win, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes to keep tears from falling. “Other than what you’ve just told me, Mikala, can you think of anyone—anyone at all who’d want to harm Wade? Anyone he’d argued with recently? Do you know if the person he was involved with from the club could have done this? Did he give you any information on this person who broke his heart?”
The connection between us crackled a little before she answered, “No on all counts. He refused to talk about the person, and he wouldn’t give me any details. I don’t know a single thing other than it was done. Like I said before, I didn’t push. It was none of my business if he told Kirkland about how he was earning his living before they’d met. I almost didn’t care if he never told him, because he was so happy. I just talked to him last week, and he was still on cloud nine and never mentioned anything about a problem with anyone. Not a single word.”
Reaching out, I braced my hand against the dashboard, feeling as though I’d run a marathon. This conversation had brought up another wealth of questions about Wade I hadn’t anticipated.
“Stevie? Are you still there? My break’s almost up. I really need to go soon.”
“Of course, Mikala, I won’t keep you. But do me a favor, would you? Call the Eb Falls Police Department and ask for the detective on the case. I guarantee they’ll be grateful for the information.”
“I absolutely will. As soon as I hang up with you. I promise.” I heard her inhale deeply, as though she’d gotten a load off her chest, and then she asked, “You won’t tell Kirkland about this—about Wade, will you? He’ll be devastated.”
My stomach roiled at the mere thought, but how could something as vital as this be kept from him for very long? “I can’t promise he won’t find out, Mikala. If someone from this club Divinia killed Wade, Kirkland will find out if the news gets ahold of it. It might be better if he hears it from someone who cares about him, don’t you agree?”
Mikala let out another sigh—a ragged one. “You’re right. When he called to tell me you wanted to talk to me, I don’t know what I was hoping would happen. I guess I hoped the police would find his killer and I’d never have to tell anyone anything. I would prefer he never found out, but it didn’t occur to me someone from that stupid club might be Wade’s killer. Though, now that I’ve said it out loud, it makes a lot of sense because of how shady it all felt. But I promise you, Stevie, everyone who knew him loved Wade…”
My cheeks puffed out as I blew out a breath. “Well, thank you, Mikala. I won’t keep you a minute longer. But you’ve been very helpful. I’ll keep in touch, and please make sure you give this information to the police.”
“I will, Stevie, and thank you. Thank you for helping Kirkland. I’m going to try and get out there soon, but until then, please send him my love and look out for him, will you?”
“I promise.” As we hung up, I shivered in our dark car, sitting along a curb on a dark, desolate street, my heart so heavy. “So now what?” I asked, peering out the window at the cracked sidewalk, fighting tears.
“Malutka? Are you okay-doke? Arkady Bagrov does not like when you are so distraught.”
I pulled my lighted compact from my purse and dabbed my nose with the cosmetic pad, determined to find Wade’s killer. “I’m fine, Arkady. Just fine—and more determined than ever to find whoever killed Wade.”
“I do believe we’re on the right path, Stephania. I wasn’t quite sure earlier, but Mikala’s call changed that.”
“I think whoever killed Wade was a patron of Divinia, Win. I’d bet my lucky-find Ray-Bans on it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the person he was arguing with in the theater men’s room was either whoever he was having an affair with, or someone threatening to tell Kirkland about his past. We need to get in there and talk to people, Win, and we need to do it soon.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if this isn’t a job for the police here in Seattle, Stephania.”
Popping my lips, I shook my head. “Do you really think anyone’s going to tell the police anything if this club is such a big secret? We have a better chance of getting answers if they think we want to patronize their establishment, don’t you think?” I winked in the sexiest way possible and rolled my shoulder to give him my version of a smoldering, come-hither glance.
Win fought a laugh. I could tell because he put his wrist over his mouth for a moment before he spoke. “Do you feel comfortable playing the part of vixen, Dove? Or would you rather be nubile ingénue?”
Oh, crepe Suzette. I hadn’t thought about that. “How about I play cautiously adventurous but curious?”
“Bloody brilliant,” Win said as he turned the car around and parked against the curb near the rust door of the warehouse.
“How are we going to get the heck in there, though? If it’s super exclusive, there must be some kind of process they use to screen people, right? I mean, background checks and stuff.”
“Let me have the card. As to our entry, you leave the getting inside to me, Dove,” Win assured as he turned the car off and smiled in my direction.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
“I have done many things, Dove. Many…”
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed at him. “Why is it that you’ll talk all day long about your crazy spy adventures when it comes to bombs and water torture, but when it comes to telling me the naughtier bits of your past, you suddenly become very vague? I’m not totally unaware of what goes on in places like this, Crispin Alistair Winterbottom.”
Leaning between the seats, he winked at me as he took my hand and kissed my fingertips—which, if you haven’t already guessed, meant he was about to avoid yet another subject he didn’t want to share details about.
“My Dove, I know all manner of things that can and will sometimes be helpful to our cause. I do not, however, feel they all deserve a thesis when the subject matter is delicate. Now, I have an idea if you’d care to indulge me that absolutely speaks to my storied past and a mission from long ago. If not, you can wait here and I shall text you, if they don’t abscond with my phone, which is sometimes the case in places such as this. What will it be?”
I ran my index finger down along his nose and sighed in mock exasperation. “Cautiously adventurous but curious it is.”
He popped his door open and made a grand gesture. “Very well then. Shall we?”
Pushing open the door, I was careful to take cautious steps due to the height of my heels, but it wasn’t easy to look calm and collected in this skin-tight dress and six-inch stilettos.
Somehow, I managed, taking Win’s arm as he escorted me to the door and tilted his head to the left. I let my eyes skim the direction of his tilt to see there was a very tiny camera, watching us.
He held up the red business card and the door suddenly buzzed open, echoing along the deserted street with an ominous tone.
We looked at each other and took a step forward into the belly of the beast.
Chapter 15
Clearly, this was a place you were only allowed entry by invitation. Score one for Win’s theory. But he wasn’t going to get off that easy. I wanted details on what mission had brought him to a place like this.
My stomach tensed up almost immediately when the door slowly opene
d all the way, but I clung to Win’s arm and kept my face as passive as possible when we walked into a dark interior room that was silent as a tomb and lit with purple lights.
A voice in the purple darkness said, “How may I help you?” The tone was seductive and mysterious, and definitely male.
His voice reminded me of Joel Grey’s character from the movie Cabaret, who sang the song “Willkommen”—a little creepy and troll-ish.
Win patted my arm and moved us forward toward the voice. I clung to him so I wouldn’t tip over in my astronomically high heels or rip my sausage casing…er, my dress.
“Indeed. I certainly hope so. We’re here on recommendation, good man,” he said with his “I’m in charge” voice.
“By whom?” the voice asked, and as we moved closer toward it, I was almost able to make out a man in a dark suit.
“Wade Lees,” Win provided, making me stiffen—mostly in shock.
“Wade Lees, did you say?”
Win made it to the small podium made out of wood where the man stood, making it easier to find a point of reference. “I did. He gave you a glowing recommendation…”
“Santini,” Arkady provided. “He is basically tour guide.”
Tour guide? What the heckin’ heck?
“Santini,” Win finished with that arrogant, I’m-the-customer-with-the-cash tone. “You come highly recommended as a skilled guide. This establishment is by recommendation only, is it not? I don’t know if I can trust my particulars if proper precautions aren’t taken to protect my privacy at all costs. You don’t simply allow just anyone to wander through your doors, do you, Santini? I was assured discretion was at a premium here.”
Witch Perfect Page 14
