about my health.”
“Anytime.”
Within a couple minutes, Mike showed up, and sat across from them. The waitress reappeared, and he ordered a beer. “Since you’re not the new manager, I’m guessing you won’t tell on me,” he said after the waitress sauntered away.
“No problem.” Brooks withdrew his picture of Pamela from his wallet and passed it to Mike. “Name’s Pamela Johnson. She was supposed to be auctioned at House of Alexa about a year ago. Records show you worked that night.” Brooks leaned in, watching the man’s features.
Mike lifted the picture, staring at it. He tapped his pocket, then retrieved a pair of reading glasses from it and put them on. The neutral expression on his face didn’t give away any particular emotion. “What happened to her?”
“She’s dead,” Brooks said.
Alexa nudged Brooks’s leg under the table. “We’re trying to find out what exactly happened. And your help could lead us there.”
Mike scratched his neck and sat the picture on the table. “I remember her.” He looked at Brooks square in the eye.
A chilly sensation spilled into his gut. He curled his fingers into fists, leaning into the table. He remembered her. The words thrummed in his veins, causing a turmoil inside.
“How come?” Alexa asked. “She never met with Jackie, and Jackie said she’d asked security if the girl had arrived. They all denied seeing her.”
“I never said I saw her at your building. Back then, I was working security in all kinds of places to pay off some gambling debts.” Mike reached for the beer the waitress had brought and took a long sip.
“Where did you see her?” Brooks asked, oxygen suddenly in short supply.
“A few days after the auction, I was freelancing as Kace Jarred’s bodyguard. On the way back from a boxing match she came over for a chat with him.”
Alexa drummed her fingers on the table. “Kace Jarred? Are you sure?”
“Who’s that?” Brooks asked. Unlike what he’d assumed, Pamela hadn’t been kidnapped or disappeared prior to the auction. The new development brought a headache to him, too many thoughts darting at once.
Concern darkened Alexa’s eyes. “He owns brothels outside Vegas. Sometimes he does online virginity auctions. We have very different…business practices.”
A pang of dread touched his spine. She didn’t need to spell it out for him to assume this Kace guy was a sleazeball. “Do you think she skipped your auction to have some leverage? To up her price or something crazy like that?” he asked her.
“Maybe this guy made her a last-minute offer she couldn’t pass up,” Mike offered, his voice casual, like he talked about this kind of subject on the daily.
“Doesn’t make sense, though. She could make a lot more money on my auction than with him,” Alexa said.
“I’d be careful with dealing with him…he’s a loose cannon,” Mike said, before downing his beer.
“What do you know about Kace Jarred? Has he mentioned my sister?”
Mike popped his knuckles, then stretched himself on his seat. “Look, man, I don’t know much. I worked as security a few times for him, but I don’t pay attention to what people say.”
“Do you know anyone who knows him well?” Alexa asked.
Mike fixed his glasses. “Yeah. My former roommate Andrea used to bartend in one of his brothels.”
“Good. We may need to talk to her.” Brooks grabbed his wallet, took a few hundred-dollar bills and gave them to him. “Thanks for your time. Do you have a cell phone number if we need to get a hold of you?”
Mike put the money in his front pocket with a small smile. “I’m not in trouble, right? I’m not going to have a cop knocking on my door or something?”
Brooks waved him off. “No. Not unless you run your mouth about our little chat.”
Mike tapped his pocket, where he’d put his money, and tilted his head in agreement. “I won’t. I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’re quiet,” Alexa said on the drive from the warehouse after they’d said goodbye to Mike.
Brooks ran his fingers into his hair, frustrated. His sister had fled House of Alexa of her own accord, possibly to accept a higher rate somewhere else. That put a wrench in his strategy, and now he had to figure out all he could about Kace. “I have no clue as to how she died. I mean, just because she went to a different auction place doesn’t mean that guy killed her.”
“No it doesn’t.”
“What if this whole time I’ve been following my instinct, and my instinct is wrong?”
She leaned closer, squeezing his shoulder.