Page 7 of Riordan's Revenge

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Page 7 of Riordan's Revenge

Cassie replied, “Alisha told one of the dancers about it, but Dixie never saw the note herself, so she told me. It hasn’t been found. Either way, I wasn’t taking any chances. I knew what it was and I took action.”

Her brother growled out something about how he’d end anyone who threatened his family, then questioned Arran on all that was happening to find the killer.

The media storm, the hapless police, the dead ends of suspects they’d looked at.

I watched Cassie, my emotions at war with themselves but concern winning, despite my better judgement. What she’d done to me was unforgivable, but I could maybe understand it. She’d been threatened. The cute-as-fuck Scottish lass with her abundant black curls and curious mind had received a death threat. Dread added to my concern. Once, I’d nicknamed her wild girl. Better wild than dead.

Her gaze lifted and locked on to mine.

A zap of electricity hit at the eye contact. I slow blinked to reject it.

She gave me a lopsided, rueful smile. “I really am sorry. I’ll cut that tape now. I forgot it was there.”

Her brother paused his discussion with Arran. “Not yet.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ll show him how to free himself in case it happens again. If he’s a target in the same way ye are, it could prove useful.”

A target? The drug Cassie had used on me was still affecting my brain, and my memories were cloudy. I’d struggled to remember the previous evening, but it resolved in a quick succession of scenes. I’d been working as security in the brothel. Moniqua, who I’d once slept with, though I had no memory of the night, had come to me and asked for my help. She’d told me something that was just on the edge of my brain. Christ, what was it?

My pulse quickened. A rival gang had approached her. She’d been afraid. It was important, but why?

Her words returned. I sat forward.

“Bronson is using sedatives.”

Everyone went quiet.

“Explain,” Arran ordered.

I closed my eyes to focus in on what I knew. “Last night, a woman came to me and told me that Red from the Four Milers is trying to get her to work in his strip club. He put pressure on Moniqua, but she refused. She then told me his second-in-command uses sedatives on women, and Red threatened to send him after her next. She said she was scared.”

A crash came down the line, and I imagined Arran slamming his fist on his desk.

“The killer used sedatives on some of his victims. It was in the post-mortem results,” he said, presumably for Sin’s benefit.

I knew that, but how?

I returned my gaze to Cassie, more memories creeping back. I’d tried to put her off me by pretending to be into Moniqua. Then, guilt-ridden, I’d gone to her room to look for her. She had a detective’s wall of the killings, including that clue written on a sheet of paper pinned up against a map of Deadwater, string linking the sites the murder victims had been found. I’d read it right before her injection knocked me out. She must have been lying in wait, maybe thinking I was the killer.

Fuck, what a mess.

Voices sounded at the other end of the phone, Shade’s tones adding to Arran’s. He’d summoned his enforcer. Then silence followed as if Arran had muted the call.

Cassie’s brother reached out a long arm to cup her shoulder in a show of reassurance. Distracted, and still staring at the note, she squeezed his fingers.

For some reason, that gesture socked me in the gut.

So fucking typical of me to be floored by a father figure providing comfort.

The leader of the skeleton crew came back on the line. “That was valuable intelligence, Riordan. After Alisha’s death, we’ve been unable to bring the action I’d planned against Red and his people. Not with camera crews outside and reporters blaming the brothel for attracting a predator to the city. This is exactly what we needed to act.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“We’ll let you know when it’s over.” Movement and voices crowded his on the open line. Arran was leaping to work, using the information I’d given him.

I struggled forward, life returning to my limbs. “I want to be a part of it. I’ll come back.”




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