We were in the army together. He’s a little ruffled by what’s going on in there. He’s seen the young girls.” He paused. “He’s got a family to support and Fox pays his security well.”
“So why’s he turning on his boss?”
“Because Tatiana came to him with some sob story that she wanted out and needed protection. That’s how I met her. She seemed pretty fucking genuine. Crying and desperate to make a new life for herself, promising to testify against Fox.”
“I’m being blackmailed.” I studied him for a moment. Barnes had come recommended by a fellow card player, who’d hired him to spy on his cheating wife.
He held up his hands. “Hey. I’m not in on this. I’ve got a daughter. That scene makes me fucking sick.”
He might have been in one bar brawl too many, but intuition told me I could trust him.
“Do you mind if I look at the images?” he asked.
I handed over the folder. “Here.”
He studied the six shots.
“They’re vague. There’s none with your face except for this one.” He pointed to a photo of me in the foyer of the Cherry Orchard.
“The scar on my back and the ring,” I said.
“The scar could have been photoshopped. The ring too.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “They photoshopped her in my fucking bed.” I headed to the bottle of whisky, poured two glasses and then passed one to Barnes.
“If she testifies, you’re in trouble. Judges take the word of the supposed victim in this type of case.”
A tight breath left my chest. “Which they’re threatening to do.”
“What does he want?” he asked.
Good fucking question. “My empire.”
He whistled. “That’s a lot of money.”
I peered down at the images that had turned my day upside down. It had already started uncomfortably enough. Penelope, after pleading with me to sleep in her bed, reported how I’d squeezed the life out of her during one of my nightmares. The fear in her eyes made me want to run, only I didn’t have damp caves in the middle of the blustery moors to hide in.
“I’ve seen worse. These could be contested.” He drained his glass in one well-practiced gulp. “This one, however”—he pointed to the shot of me at the Cherry Orchard— “demonstrates that you’re into buying young girls by the mere fact of your presence.”
“But he’s incriminating himself, isn’t he? That suggests he’s dealing in underage girls.” I opened my hands.
“He’s a silent partner,” he reminded me. “I’ve got an ex-Eastern European mafia contact. He might know something about that scene. His son goes to school with my daughter of all things.” He sniffed. “It’s kind of strange how one meets people these days. And with the lack of proper jobs, desperation leads people to take jobs they’d prefer not to, if you get my meaning.”
I nodded slowly. “Discretion only. I don’t want my name mentioned.”
“No. Of course.” He rose and then paused. “How did you hear about the Cherry Orchard in the first place? Given that it’s an invite-only, dark-alleyway joint.”
“I’m about to call him right now,” I said, feeling the heat at the back of my neck. I smelled a rat.
“I’ll have to grab the name of your contact at some point.” He lifted his hand and left.
My phone buzzed. I peered down at an image of Penelope in that beautiful red gown that I’d snapped the night of the ball. I picked up. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Blake, I have to race to a lecture, but I thought you should know. I met Lilly for breakfast, and during a conversation about the ball, she told me that she’d met Dylan Fox through James. Apparently, they seemed rather friendly.”
I squeezed the life out of my phone. “I have to go. Tonight?”
“Sure. Are things okay?”
“We’ll talk later.” I ended the call. Abrupt as it was, I had no control over my actions. The word betrayal hit my brain with such a heavy thud that my head ached.
I pressed on James’s number. It went to voicemail. I kept it brief. “We need to talk.”
36
* * *
PENELOPE
BLAKE PACED ABOUT RUBBING his head, leaving it a sexy mess of hair. His mouth glistened from his brushing tongue, which for one twisted moment had my body reacting with greedy need. I was amazed that a man as dark and haunted as Blake could send my hormones into overdrive. And my desire only intensified as he paced about in my new living room, pausing every now and then to stare out the window, lost in thought.