Page 29 of Alistair

“Don’t treat us like we’re stupid. We want ten bottles.”

“Then I want ten grand.” He stared at the girls as they nervously moved from one foot to the other. “Come on, honey. We both know Daddy gives you whatever you want. You’ve got the fancy car, the designer clothes. Now, you’ve got the designer body to go with it. You can afford this.”

“Fine,” said one of the girls. She opened the trunk, and the men all held their breaths. Pulling out a black tote bag, she handed it to him, and he grinned.

“Let me give you the bag back. That’s worth at least another two grand.”

“No. No, keep the bag, but give us two more bottles,” she said.

“Cool. Where’s your other little friend? She was a sweet piece of ass.”

“She died.” No tears. No emotion. Just a statement.

“Now, that’s a shame. Who’s taking her place?”

“I will,” said the blonde. She pulled her skirt up and bent over the hood of her car. It took only minutes for the man to get his rocks off. She acted as if it were just another day in the neighborhood.

“That was good, sweetheart. Next time, put some effort into it. I’ll see you girls in a week.” His car pulled away, and the girls continued to drive north.

“Anyone notice anything other than the obvious about all that?” asked Sor.

“Yeah. No one had a West Virginia accent. If I’m not mistaken, he sounded like he was from Southern California,” said Alistair.

“Exactly,” nodded Sor. “So they get these girls hooked on this shit. Charge a grand for each bottle and have sex with them.”

“Sirs? I was listening, and I think I know who one of those girls is.”

“You do? How could you know that, Victoria?” asked Alistair.

“Because she’s famous. She’s a pop star. A big one. She uses the name Dove. Her real name is Donna Broadstreet. She’s been wildly popular on social media and just signed her first big record deal and is about to start touring.”

“I’m really behind the times,” frowned Leif. “I have no clue who that is.”

“I don’t think it matters,” said Alistair. “What matters is we now have the name of someone who might know who these people are.”

“I’ll try to find an address for you. Also, the other guy sounded familiar too, but I can’t place his name.”

“Thanks, kid,” said Sor.

“Um, sir. I’m not a kid.”

“Apologies, Victoria. You’re right. You’re not. You’re a brilliant, talented young woman with more brains than I’ll ever have.”

“Thank you, sir.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Did they show?” asked the man behind the desk.

“Of course,” he grinned. “The blonde is dead, but Dove was more than happy to raise her skirts for me. Not bad. A little used if you ask me.” The other man laughed, shaking his head.

“Don’t be so fucking picky. You just fucked a superstar. You can sell the story when she’s dead. Any issues?”

“None. They wanted to try to stiff us on the money, but they’re so strung out on this shit, they’re not even thinking clearly.” He tossed the bag on the desk, and the other man smiled, staring at the crisp hundred-dollar bills.

“I love the smell of clean money,” he smiled. “How are we doing on getting the other location set up?”

“Good. The boys are nearly done with everything now. We’ve got three more doctors willing to sell the shit, but they all want a bigger piece of the pie since it’s their license on the line.”

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