Page 21 of Bad Enough

TB nodded.

“Okay. Talk with Ms. Winchell today and collect whatever information she has, both in terms of the police investigation and the missing girls. Discreetly,” he reminded TB. “I’d prefer we stay unexposed for now. Mr. Moll signed the NDA. I stressed to him the importance of remaining quiet, or we will fade away. He’s frustrated, but he’ll toe the line.”

Nemo leaned back in his chair, tipping it on its axis, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’d like to hear more about your connection to the club.”

Of course you would, dickhead.

“It’s not pertinent to the investigation,” he replied evenly.

“Oh, I think it is. I need the full lay of the land. For background purposes, of course.”

Fuck.

“Okay, let’s get this all out in the open so I only have to say it once, and everyone’s curiosity is put to rest. The owner and I have participated in scenes together in the past. I haven’t played at the club in months, although I have been in there when we’ve been home to have a drink. I know nothing personal about the owner. That’s it. Nothing more.”

“I’d say you know some pretty personal things if you’ve played together,” Nemo corrected.

Waters cut in. “We have more important shit to get done than you two assclowns bickering over this.”

TB noticed him wince at his swear word.

Yet another reminder of Kubrick.

“TB, while you’ve been at the club, in hindsight, have you seen anything that now looks like it might have any bearing on our missing women? Anything that might raise a red flag of any kind?” Waters asked.

TB shrugged. “It’s a kink club. There are red flags everywhere. Just not the kind you’re referring to.”

“What kind of red flags are you seeing?” God asked.

“It’s rare, but sometimes the lines get blurred between longtime couples, and they tread into domestic abuse.

“The Library has a strict drugs and alcohol policy, which they enforce to the letter since safety’s such a huge part of the BDSM world. But like anywhere else, there are still issues. There’s an employee who was caught dealing, mostly Molly, just before we left for Roatán. He was let go.”

TB looked up at the screen again. “But my gut is telling me that something there isn’t right. Why aren’t the police treating this like a serial killer? There are certainly enough grounds here, flimsy though they might be.”

“No bodies equals no killer,” Waters confirmed.

While Waters continued to brief the room on what little the police had found, TB’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. His cell phone never rang unless it was one of the guys, but they were all here with him in the meeting.

Except Demon. Shit.

He slipped just the screen out of his pocket and gave it a quick glance.

CHERRY

Someone named Tabitha called your “work” number. I informed her you were out of the office but you would call her when you returned.

He slid the phone completely out of his pocket and rose from the table. Waters’ eyes lifted from his notes.

“Cherry texted. The owner called my work line.”

Waters frowned. “Why would she be calling you?”

“I don’t know. She never has before. It can’t be about this, so it must be personal. She must have pulled it from the application to the club that Midas put together for me back when I joined.”

Waters considered quickly then hit the blue button on the starfish, and the room went back to normal mode.

All talking ceased while the other men around the table glanced at TB curiously, but no one said anything as he left the room.

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