Page 16 of Play With Me

“Excuse the fuck out of you. Who the hell do you think you are?” Lenni snaps at him in my defense. Even Jackson and Tripp look at him like he overstepped, but Mick nods his head as if he agrees.

Anders has the grace to look ashamed as he looks at them. “Sorry…”

“Look atherand apologize,” Jackson demands. He may not be my most favorite person in the world, but I have to admit I’m grateful for his interference.

Anders gives him a hard look. His eyes dart to me before dropping to his lap. “Sorry, Carmela.”

“The last thing we need is an angry mob boss on our hands, yes?” Martin interrupts. “While I agree that you should let security go, you obviously trust them. We should focus on the newest letter's content instead of trying to beat a dead horse.”

Grimacing at his idiom, I motion to Anders, who took the letter in to be dusted for fingerprints. “He’s got it.”

He fishes the letter out of his dark gray woolensuit jacket. “There were no prints except for Martin’s and Carmela’s.”

Unfolding the letter, he rises from the sofa and walks over to my desk to smooth it out on the surface. “Another morbid nursery rhyme.”

“Why nursery rhymes?” Tripp muses.

Mick and I share a look. A trickle of heavy dread rolls through my body as my gaze slides to Lenni’s. “The letter mentions cheating. But I’m not seeing anyone, so I’m not a cheater.”

“The other letters mentioned cheating as well. But this is the first time it’s mentioned politics. So it’s obviously referencing Mick,” Jackson says.

“Very few people know I’m involved in Désirer. That should narrow down our suspects,” Mick speaks as if that small pool of people are the only ones we should be looking at. He curls his lip as he motions to the letter on my desk. “The lover it mentions must be Luca.”

“He isn’t my lover. Jesus, we fucked around a few times,” I mutter. If Mami could hear me now, she’d fall to her knees and start praying for God to save my soul after she tried to wash my mouth out with soap.

“Perhaps the letter is not talking about Carmela when it talks about cheating?” Nikolai theorizes. He and Martin duck their heads together, whispering things no one else can hear as if they’re trying to solve the case on their own.

“The rest of the letter is about her, though. And all the others reference her specifically,” Lenni states.

“So the question is, why is he targeting you?” Anders asks as he resumes his pacing from earlier.

“And how does he know to reach you at the club? All trails point to it being someone on the inside. Someone who has worked or does work there,” Jackson sums up.

“Have Paul and Larry been informed about this new victim? Why aren’t they here?” Mick asks, weaving through everyone to stand by my desk.

Anders stops pacing, taking his place on the sofa as he glares at the man beside me. “They don’t need to be informed of everything. Technically, you hired me privately. And these two are self-employed. We have their resources, and even though it seems like it would be better to have more eyes on this, it’s not. The more people who know about it, the harder it will be to keep information from being leaked. I’m not even sure why these two are here.” He motions to Lenni and Tripp.

“Well, I’m a manager-in-training, so Cara thought I should be in the know,” Lenni tells him.

“I’m perfectly fine with us not having anything to do with this. I don’t want my wife at the club until this guy is caught,” Tripp says, holding his hands up.

“Tripp–” Lenni starts, but Jackson cuts her off.

“He’s right, Lenni. You being at work will onlystress out Ginny. I need you to be by her side when I’m at work.”

“How is she?” I ask him as Lenni and Tripp start whisper-arguing. Ginny worked for me at the club for all of an hour before Jackson set his sights on her and pretended to be someone else to get into her good graces. He booked her exclusively until it all blew up in his face, and she figured out that he and her masked stranger were the same person. Now, they’re married with a baby who is due any day now.

He opens his mouth to respond when a knock at the door cuts him off. Lenni opens it to reveal one of the hostesses. “This was just dropped off for Carmela.” She hands Lenni a familiar blood-red envelope with the murderer's signature rose.

Anders darts off the couch, pushing everyone aside as he bolts out the door, Martin and Nikolai on his heels. I can hear a commotion in the dining room as he rushes to try and catch whoever delivered the letter.

“Who dropped this off?” Mick demands as Lenni sets the letter on my desk with shaky hands.

The blonde, who hasn’t worked here for more than a week, shrugs slightly as her whole face flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, sir. It was a courier service. Some kid on a bike.”

Just as my fingers enclose around the envelope, Anders busts back into the room, closing the door inthe hostess’ face. “That needs to be dusted for fingerprints.”

“She said a courier dropped it off. It’ll probably pick up their prints along with mine now,” I explain as I open it.

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