Wild Dirty Secret(41)
He shut up then, pursing his lips lest I forget he was pissed. Once I had straightened my clothes, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Never leave a man angry; it only gave them more time to stew.
His expression eased. “Shelly, I don’t like you two together.”
“Get in line. After me. Then him.”
“You say that. Excuse me if I don’t believe you while you’re all flushed from making out with him like teenagers.”
“Teenagers?” I glanced at the back room. “Is that who you bring back there?”
He snorted. “Such charm. I don’t know why I like you.”
“Ah, but you do like me. That’s part of what makes me mysterious. Men like mysteries,” I said sagely.
He waved me toward the exit. “Yeah, I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re beautiful and way too smart to be doing the job you do.”
“Stop. I’ll blush.”
“Get lost, squirt. And don’t get into any trouble on your way out.”
“Actually I was thinking I might start a fire. Maybe you should pull the alarm, just in case.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“We’ll call it even, then. No more visits, cross my heart.”
He shook his head. “Fine. I’ll do it. But you better be serious about that. If I see you back here, I’ll turn you in myself.”
In the hallway, I followed the flow until I found an empty broom closet. One benefit to these old historical buildings was that security was never quite up to modern standards. They could install all the fancy systems and safeguards, but the floor plan was designed with comfortable nooks instead of open spaces.
I pulled out the little plastic badge that allowed Luke to come and go into secure areas of the building—and to log into the network. It was a dirty trick, using sex against him like that, so of course I’d had to. I hoped he wouldn’t be too mad.
Right on cue, a loud clanging fell from the ceiling, shaking the walls. The footsteps sounded like thunder down the hallway as everyone slipped outside. When it quieted, I returned to the storeroom. It was empty, since of course Chase had evacuated with everyone. Such a good boy.
I got on his computer and found the files I needed.
Stephan Laurent had been wanted in connection with multiple homicides. All young girls, all prostitutes. Full immunity. Murder probably wasn’t beyond him, but what was the point? Young girls weren’t any good to him dead. Besides, if he was guilty, that didn’t explain the immunity. He needed to turn on someone. And ah, here. Known associations: Henri Denikin. The answer had been sitting in the corner, just waiting for me to turn and see it. My descent into prostitution hadn’t been random at all. I put my hand to my mouth to keep the bile in. My eyes fell shut, and I took a few deep breaths of musty air to clear my head. I needed to focus. I needed to get the hell out of here.
I tossed the little badge on the floor in the storeroom where Luke could find it and maybe even think it was an accident, that he’d dropped it. It had slipped from its clip while we’d kissed, and the fire alarm had been a coincidence. Sure, he’d believe that, just like I believed my father’s criminal connections meant nothing.
Jade had known. I remembered the look in her eyes.
In elementary school, my class had gone on a field trip to the zoo. Not the Brookfield Zoo, but a wild animal sanctuary out by Lake Michigan. We’d huddled outside the chain-link fence while the tour guide gave us a speech about rehabilitation. Inside, the tiger prowled the far corner, watching us warily. The woman told us he was more afraid of us than we were of him, and I believed her, but I didn’t see why that should make me feel better. The air vibrated with thinly leashed violence. The tiger’s eyes were filled with malevolence, and through them, I hated myself for being a part of his captivity.
We left uneventfully, but the next week there was an “accident” with one of the trainers, and the tiger was put down. Murder, my ten-year-old mind had thought. They had caged the animal and then killed it when it didn’t obey. No one else seemed fazed by the news. Our venerable teacher trilled a laugh and thanked God we hadn’t been there that day.
Bitch.
The next day, Allie left the tiger refrigerator magnet she’d bought from the gift shop on my desk. It was a white tiger, not orange, and the plastic represented the commercial value of his life, like a cheapened version of a rhinoceros horn, but I still fell in love with Allie that day. I twined between her legs like a stray cat, and she let me stay because she knew I had nowhere else to go. I would still be there, bringing her dead rodents, the only gifts I knew how to make, except for Colin. He was like me, operating on an animal frequency, and he had claimed her.