by Quinn Avery
Grayson poised a pen over the notepad in front of him. “What was this kid’s name?”
“His friends called him Double G. I think his real name was Shane.”
Bexley wanted to hurl as she exchanged a knowing look with Grayson. God’s Gift.
“Anyway, I almost made it through Hell Week before flunking the portion on dive physics. I was pissed as hell with myself, knowing I’d proved my old man right—I’d never amount to shit. I needed to let off some steam, and decided to take this Double G guy up on his offer. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” His stoic expression didn’t falter, but his pupils widened into dark pools. “If I had any idea they were tricking innocent women into participating in their sick fantasies, I swear would’ve turned them in when they first told me about their club.”
“What kind of fantasies?” Grayson prodded.
Alex was unable to look either one of them in the eye. “The sky’s the limit when you have an endless supply of money.”
“Be a little more specific,” Bexley snapped, avoiding the warning look she’d got from Grayson.
He looked up at her. “One of the guys involved was paying extra to kill women.”
Bexley collapsed against the back of the chair. Her sister hadn’t been merely ranting nonsense. She’d never heard anything so deplorable. Knowing how close Cineste may’ve been to becoming a victim of their sick game upturned her stomach.
Grayson ran a hand over his head. “Do you know who?”
“At that point I didn’t wanna know. I told this Double G it was too fucked up for my blood. He demanded I pay the cover charge of two million since I’d indulged in a day at their club. I hadn’t told them I’d been kicked out of SEAL training, so the guy said there was a Naval Commander in charge of the operation who would destroy my career if I even thought about going to the police. They gave me two weeks to come up with the money. I started following this guy around…eventually caught him meeting up with my old man. Can’t say I was all that surprised to find out, but I had to make him stop.”
Grayson looked up from his notes. “And that’s how you ended up at his house?”
He addressed Bexley directly, “I had no idea your sister would be there. I’d never even met her until that night.” His eyes flitted back to Grayson. “I’d been watching the house for days, hoping to catch my old man alone. Everything went to shit when I discovered his wife was home even though her car was gone. My old man never told her that he had an older son, so she thought I was a liar and threatened to have me arrested. With Double G already on my ass, I panicked, and tied her up. Did the same to Cineste when she walked in, only because I didn’t want her taking off and calling the cops. I never would’ve hurt her. Then my old man showed up, and Cineste attacked him. At some point he just kind of assumed we were together.”
“How did she attack him?” Grayson asked.
Alex shrugged. “She pushed him down, told him he was a piece of shit. Based on some of the things she said, I think she must’ve been having issues with her old man too.”
Doesn’t sound too out of character for Cineste, Bexley thought. But some of the blame was Bexley’s. She should’ve invited her sister to come live with her in New York once Cineste’s life started taking a nosedive. Better yet, you should’ve moved back home.
With a long sigh, Alex methodically ran his hand over his short brown hair. “Once I realized my old man wasn’t going to turn himself in, I accepted the bribe he offered. I figured I was good as dead once he caught me alone, so I’d use the money to disappear. I thought he’d actually let me go until he jumped Cineste outside. He injected her with something and held a gun to her head, saying he’d make me pay for trying to cross him. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but I couldn’t let him hurt her. I hid out while trying to find her, but the closest I got was when I tailed Double G to her friend’s house in Tustin. I’d planned on going back the next day when Willow was alone, but she never returned. I lost my shit when I heard about the dead girl in the news. I was convinced he had killed Cineste, so I went deep into hiding.”
Grayson must’ve sensed Bexley’s anger boiling to a head when he set a hand on her thigh. “Do you remember the date you saw Double G visiting the house in Tustin?”
“Not exactly, but I remember it was a day or two before Thanksgiving.”
Excitement surged through Bexley’s veins. If he was telling the truth, they had a witness who could place Shane with Willow right before her death. If his DNA came back from the lab as being a match, he could kiss his freedom goodbye.
Alex’s icy blue gaze was once again on Bexley. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any way I can see your sister? I want a chance to apologize and…make it up to her somehow.”
“The only way you can make it right with her is to testify against your father,” Grayson bellowed in an authoritative voice.
“I will do whatever it takes to make that bastard pay.”
Someone knocked briskly before the door creaked open. Officer Brock held up a plain file folder. “The lab said you wanted these results right away.”
Bexley’s heart raced. The moment of truth had arrived.
Grayson motioned for the officer to enter the room. She handed him the file before slipping back out. Bexley held her breath as Grayson surveyed the contents.
When he looked up at her, his beautiful lips spread with a brilliant smile.
They had Shane on the hook.
The nightmare was finally over.
22
Bexley was soaking in Grayson’s jetted tub when he called with the news: they’d caught Shane at the airport as he was attempting to flee the country. They were arresting him for capital murder and a slew of other charges. A judge had also issued a warrant for Commander Peachtree’s arrest, and they were on their way to the base.
Although Shane and Commander Peachtree had tried everything they could to stop Bexley from uncovering the truth, she came out as the victor of their twisted games. Grayson had a long road ahead of him between finding proof to back Alex’s story, and uncovering the identity of the alleged women who were victims to the boys’ club. But her part was finished. She’d done as Dean had asked, and found her sister in the process. She was so relieved that she’d almost blurted, “I love you,” to Grayson over the phone. She wasn’t exactly sure if that’s how she felt about him, but she’d be eternally grateful for all he had done, and loved that he had her back through it all.
After she cleaned out the rental property on the beach and returned the key to the manager, she headed back to Grayson’s. She continued pounding out the story on her new laptop until hours after the sun sank behind the palm trees. Despite catching some sleep on his flights to and from Minnesota, Grayson would still be exhausted by the time he returned to her, so she wasn’t worried he’d push for a decision over her next move. Still, she couldn’t avoid the subject forever. At some point she hoped the treatment center would allow her to visit Cineste, and she would need to tie things up in New York if she moved back. The idea of starting over terrified her, even though she wouldn’t be doing it alone. And Grayson hadn’t exactly asked her to stay. Maybe his head was in a completely different place that had nothing to do with her.
Dean called around dinnertime. He’d heard about Shane’s arrest. He struggled with what to say. “I’m sorry—I never thought…dammit. I didn’t want to believe it was true. I’m sorry he put you through this.”
“Unless you were covering for him, you have nothing to apologize for, Dean.”
“I swear to you, I was just as surprised as the rest of the world will be when they hear the news. Does it work for you to come over now? You deserve much more than the half a million I’d offered.”
It didn’t feel right to accept Dean’s payment, but she’d need the money to pay for Cineste. She didn’t have medical insurance on her own and they wouldn’t allow coverage under Bexley’s plan, so everything had to be paid out-of-pocket. For a fleeting moment she cons
idered calling her father to see if they could use his, but she decided he’d only focus on the fact that Cineste needed treatment.
Instead she sent him a simple text to let him know both of his daughters were alive and accounted for. She figured he wouldn’t respond, but the fact that her text went unanswered still stung. “I don’t expect any more than what you first offered.”
“I’ll send my driver to get you.”
Although ready to tell him no, Bexley chewed on her lower lip. Since having protection was no longer necessary, she was without a ride. So she gave him Grayson’s address, and waited.
Dean was in exceptionally high spirits. Bexley supposed it was a relief that he’d no longer be a suspect, but it seemed odd he wouldn’t feel a little more torn about his best friend’s fate. He greeted her with a bottle of champagne, and suggested they have a final drink together on the balcony. Since it was a beautiful night and there was so much to celebrate, she decided there wasn’t a reason to turn him down.
“To a job well done,” Dean toasted, raising his glass to clink against hers. “Still can’t believe I was that close with someone capable of murder, but I guess you never really know. Have you started writing the story?”
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s already finished. The rough draft, anyway.”
“Can I read it?”
“I don’t have it with me. It’s packed with the rest of my things.” She took a small drink of the crisp, bubbly liquid. “If you want me to hand it over before you pay me—”
“That won’t be necessary.” He settled on the balcony railing beside her and looked out at the ocean. “Not sure I could give this up for anything. I suppose you’re heading back to New York?”
“That’s the plan.” Even though her plans remained unclear, she wasn’t going to disclose her newly formed relationship with Grayson, and the complications it was causing her. Leaning on the railing beside him, she took another drink and enjoyed the view. Moonlight danced across the ocean like a million diamonds. Still, there was nothing quite as beautiful in New York.
“If you ever come back to visit your sister after she’s released from Hazelden, you’re always welcome to stay here. There’ll always be room for my favorite reporter.” He threw her a wink before starting for the house. “I’ll cut you a check and be right back out. Don’t be shy with the champagne. There’s plenty more where that came from, and you don’t have to drive back!”
The moment he was out of sight, she felt the frantic thud of her heartbeats in the hollow of her throat. How did he know Cineste was in Hazelden? Grayson was the only one other than herself who knew where she’d gone—they hadn’t even told J.J.
Grayson must’ve told him. But why? For what reason?
She tried calling Grayson on his phone. It went straight to voicemail. He must’ve been busy interviewing the Commander. She sent a frantic text message.
* * *
How does Dean know where you took Cineste??
* * *
She gulped down the rest of her drink and headed inside to use the bathroom. She’d grab her check and get the hell out before her paranoid thoughts drove her to the brink of insanity. As she headed toward the closest bathroom, she noticed the only door that had been locked the night she stayed over was ajar. She froze in the middle of the hallway, unable to deny her curiosity.
Curiosity killed the cat, she reminded herself. Yeah, and OJ Simpson got away with double homicide because of a stupid glove.
Right as she started to push on the door, her phone vibrated with a call. She didn’t recognize the 651 area code, but she realized it could be her sister.
Knowing Dean could be nearby, she kept her voice soft. “Cineste?”
“Bexley? Thank god you’re okay!” Her sister sounded close to her old self again until she began to sob. “I couldn’t remember what happened…I thought maybe I’d only imagined that I’d talked to you…I’ve been so sick!”
“Cin, calm down. There’s no reason for you to be afraid anymore,” she whispered. “It’s over. Alex turned himself in and told us everything about his dad, and they’ve arrested Shane for Willow’s murder. Just focus on getting better—”
“They arrested Shane? Oh my god, Bex! They have the wrong guy!”
Bexley’s stomach bottomed out. “But his DNA was a match, and Alex said he saw them together a day or two before she was murdered. I read the emails he sent—I know he was obsessed with her.”
“They had sex, but he wouldn’t have killed her!” Her sister’s cries increased in intensity. “I knew this would happen! I tried telling the police I saw him with her! No one wanted to believe he’d do something like this!”
“Who?” Bexley demanded.
Her sister continued rambling as if talking to herself. “He’s so handsome, and charming…even I fell for his act…you know how I am with celebrities! I was stupid! I thought he’d take care of me…but he was the one who kept giving me drugs! And he’d choke me when we kissed…I finally realized it was the same way he choked all those poor girls who were forced to play his game! I knew something was off long before he threatened Willow…it’s my fault she’s dead!”
Bexley tried to keep up with her sister. A celebrity? Then the realization hit and her blood turned cold. Dean had started to choke her while they’d kissed on New Year’s Eve. “Cineste, who are you talking about?” Her throat was so dry and cracked that she wasn’t sure she'd uttered the words loud enough for her to hear. “Cineste?”
“Miss Squires?” a soothing woman’s voice answered. “I’m sorry to cut this call short, but your sister is clearly upset, and that’s not in her best interests right now.”
“Can you please just ask her who she was talking about?”
“Once she calms down, I’ll let you know if there’s a message she wishes to convey. Have a good evening.”
The call disconnected. Bexley’s bladder almost gave up the fight. Was her sister trying to tell her that she had been the one who reported Dean with Willow before she died? She didn’t know if she should run from the house, or demand the truth from Dean, but curiosity drew her to the unlocked room. She pushed her way inside.
On first appearance, it was merely another guest bedroom. The queen bed was undisturbed, and everything appeared nearly identical to the room she'd stayed in. Then she saw a blue light glowing from what should’ve logically been a walk-in closet. She took tentative steps toward the light to discover a desktop computer set up on a glass desk. To the left, women’s stilettos were displayed on a glass shelf. Including the pair made by Iman.
The computer wasn’t on standby, nor was it locked. An email filled the screen from 1 a.m. that morning.
* * *
From: CP
* * *
Take care of the final loose ends or we’re all going down. No amount of money will save you this time.
* * *
A reply had been typed, but not sent:
* * *
I’m on it. Your boy’s girlfriend was sent to rehab in Minnesota. I’ll take care of her before she’s released. The sister is on her way to me. They won’t be a problem much longer.
* * *
She’d trusted the wrong person from the start.
23
The room became a jumbled blur. A sudden rush of nausea rose in Bexley’s throat. She’d remembered Dean pushing her about her family several times. How long had he known Cineste was her sister? Was that the reason he’d brought Bexley to Papaya Springs, and asked her to find the killer? Did it mean Grayson was somehow involved, too? Why else would he tell Dean where he had taken Cineste? There didn’t seem to be any love lost between the two men. Had that been an act? Had she unwittingly slept with the enemy?
Dean and the Commander wanted the sisters dead because they’d assumed Cineste and Bexley were the only ones aware of the sinister truth behind their club’s game. That meant they didn’t know Alex had come out of hiding to tell Grayson about the murders. At least not yet. Either
way, she had to get to Cineste.
Suddenly dizzier than the night she drank that little dive bar out of tequila, she braced herself against the wall. Only the rich could afford champagne that’d get a person loaded with one glass.
A deep laugh rumbled behind her. “Sure didn’t take you long to put everything together once I provided enough bread crumbs,” Dean said.
When she turned around to face him, the room wouldn’t stop spinning. “You drugged me.”
“Little Nancy Drew has earned every cent I’d promised. It’s a shame you won’t be able to spend any of it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, grinning down on her like nothing had changed.
“You should know it only took me one episode of Sons of Mayhem to realize you’re a shitty actor. You’re as phony as the accent you used in that B-grade robot movie!”
His lips twitched in a smile. “You gave me a real scare when I thought you were going to bring me down instead of Shane. It would’ve been easier if I had been able to pay you off the way I'd paid the Papaya Springs PD. It was a given that you’d be easily manipulated into following my lead, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly draw your sister out for the promise of cash.”
His insinuations infuriated her to her core. “What makes you think I could be easily manipulated?”
“By the way they made you believe Richard Warren orchestrated that sex trafficking operation.”
She shook her head. “What?”
“I suspected it wouldn’t take much beyond a little coerced testimony and some planted evidence…like that laptop. Faith played her part so well that I was ready to make her my costar in a movie. She had you eating right from the palm of her hand. Those stupid stoner college kids, though…they almost ruined everything when they tried to make money off that video. I paid a small fortune to get the shoes back. I suppose I have you to thank for finding them.”
