Everyone knows that. Besides, it would be easy for the gang to find me there. It’s a small town.”
“Allow me to finish,” Simon said. “When you arrive in Burning Cove you will go directly to the Paradise Club. Any gas station attendant can tell you how to get there. You will ask for Luther Pell. He or a member of his staff will be expecting you. He will see to it that you are protected, unless—”
“Unless what?” Kevin asked, alarmed.
“Unless something bad happens to the last woman you transported to the cabin. Miss Granville from room two twenty-one.”
“Nobody gets hurt,” Kevin said quickly.
“You’d better hope that’s the case with Miss Granville, because she’s very important to Mr. Pell,” Simon said. “He’s the one who sent us to find her.”
“Shit,” Kevin whispered. “He’ll probably kill me.”
“Only if Miss Granville does not survive the kidnapping.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Kevin demanded.
“I can’t,” Simon admitted. Absently he massaged the scars on the back of his hand. “But in this case I think I can talk him into doing me a favor. He owes me. As I said, all bets are off if the woman who called herself Miss Granville is injured or killed.”
Kevin stared, panic-stricken. “But there’s nothing I can do about that. All I can tell you is that she was fine when I left her at the cabin.”
“You do have one other option, Kevin,” Lyra said. “You could head for Mexico.”
“Don’t you think I already considered that?” Kevin shook his head. “It takes money to live there, just like anywhere else. I don’t have any cash left. Spent it all on the car. I guess I’ll take my chances in Burning Cove.”
“I’ll call Luther Pell and tell him you’re on the way,” Simon said.
“I knew it was going to end like this.” Kevin dropped his head into his hands. “I wish I’d never gotten involved. I was just the driver.”
“I’ve got a few more questions,” Simon said.
Chapter 27
Edith Guppy unlocked the service entrance door at the back of the spa and let herself into the dark interior of the storage room. She switched on her flashlight and went quickly toward the central hallway, heading for the paraffin bath room where her business partner was waiting.
When the current situation had been resolved, it would be time to get rid of Ridley Billingsley. He and his money had certainly been useful but there was no question that his mental state was deteriorating rapidly. She sensed the photographs of him humiliating the women were no longer enough for him.
She had encountered others like Billingsley in the old days during the war. They got excited when they hurt people but sooner or later they needed more intense stimulation. They needed to kill. That sort had their uses, but eventually they became unreliable and had to be terminated.
She detested having to call Billingsley her business partner. She had built Guppy’s House of Beauty from scratch. Every dime of the money she had smuggled out of Europe toward the end of the war had gone into the New York spa. The operation had been a smash hit from the day it opened, thanks to her talent for marketing.
She had run into financial difficulties during the worst of the Depression. She had been facing bankruptcy when she met Ridley Billingsley. She had known immediately that she could use him to keep Guppy’s House of Beauty in business, but the price had been high. To gain his interest and his money, as well as access to his social connections, she had been forced to agree to let him play what he called his “game.”
She hadn’t minded the game. It had proven useful for obtaining the extortion photos. The fact that the women were clearly being assaulted in the pictures was not a problem. The images were just as potentially damaging as scenes of consensual sex would have been. When it came to sexual assault people always blamed the woman. She was viewed as having put herself into a reckless situation. Even if the police could be persuaded to act, the potential humiliation of having her naked body displayed in the scandal sheets or before a jury was more than enough to keep the victim quiet.
The new business plan had gone well in New York, right up until the disaster. Not even Billingsley’s money could save the spa.
Facing the threat of ruin yet again, she had closed her doors before the rumors hit the front pages of the