Page 12 of Spiteful Heart

Viper pulled us up to the Gilded Rose’s front, parking the car on the sidewalk, before one of the guards from the Gilded Rose came out and told him where to park. He told us to get out and he’d meet us inside.

I greeted the big, bald dude with thick, black glasses. “Where’s Newton?” I’d changed into tight jeans and a pink blouse, and yet when the wind blew, I couldn’t help but fight a shiver. Next time I came out, I might actually have to put on a jacket or something. The weather was changing, a new season coming. If it was an omen, it wasn’t a good one.

The man gestured for us to follow him inside, and so we did. The front of the gentleman’s club had been blacked out, something spray-painted over the glass to stop anyone who happened to be walking by from seeing inside. That was new. We passed two more guards, who each gave us nods as we headed inside.

I was the first in, walking in front of my guys, and almost immediately, I could smell it in the air. The air itself was heavier… wrong. Just like the air had been in that warehouse that night, only instead of something rotting, it was stagnant and filled with copper, the scent of spilled blood. And I knew better than most what freshly spilled blood smelled like.

I found Newton at the bar. It looked like he was in the process of downing an entire bottle of whiskey himself—though he was still Newton, so he had his own sparkling glass. The guys kept walking toward the stage, where the body was, but I wanted to speak to Newton, first.

Newton was in his forties. Early forties, if I had to guess. He always looked good, given his age, but today he looked tired and stressed, for obvious reasons. His blond hair was a little unkempt, his tie having been loosened. When his dark eyes spotted me, he downed the rest of what was in the glass and then poured himself more.

“Who is she?” I asked. “Is she one of your girls?” I hoped she wasn’t. I hoped it wasn’t that girl, Sera, who Newton seemed to like a little bit too much.

Newton shook his head once. He took another drink, though he did pass me the bottle of whiskey. “No, she’s not one of mine,” he took his time in replying, and the relief in his voice would’ve been missed, if I wasn’t so busy scrutinizing him.

My fingers curled around the bottle of whiskey, and before I could think better of it, I brought it to my lips. Tilting my head back, I took a swig. This particular brand was a bit caramel-y. Not too bad, although it still made me wrinkle my nose.

“Well, that’s a relief, I guess,” I muttered, peering around Newton to watch Maddox, Viper, and Mike inspect the stage. I could see a body laying down near the front of the stage, but nothing else. There were other guys, more of Newton’s men, standing off to the side and watching them as well.

“Is it?” Newton asked me, causing me to bring my gaze back to him. His hand tightened around the glass so hard his knuckles turned white. It was a miracle he didn’t shatter the glass with that grip. “Because from where I’m standing, none of this is a relief.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. “Walk me through what happened.”

“I got a call a while back. I’m never here when the crew is getting everything ready for our open nights, so I wasn’t here when they found her—”

“Who found her?”

“Eric, I think his name is. One of the bartenders.”

“And this Eric, he’s got a key to the place? I’m assuming he’s still here, somewhere.” I looked around, not seeing him. If he was a regular worker here, I’d probably seen his face before.

Newton nodded. “He’s in my office right now, under guard. I figured you’d want to talk to him before I let him go.” He took a sip from his glass, shaking his head once. “He’s got a key, yes, but I trust him. I don’t think he was the one who did this.”

“All right, well, you’ve got security cameras. I swear, if you tell me they were cut or something—” Whatever else I was going to say died in the back of my throat when I noted his glower. Ah, so it was like that, then. No camera footage of the killer. Of course. We couldn’t be that lucky.

“They had something that fucked with the cameras. I don’t know what. The cameras all cut out at exactly five in the morning. Eric didn’t get here until eleven. I got here around noon, and since then I can’t seem to get the damned cameras to come back on. Whatever it was, the system’s fried. I’m going to have to replace them all.” He sounded more broken up about that than the body—and that pissed me off.

“What took you so long to get here?” I asked. “Seems to me, if a body was found at my club, I’d want to get there ASAP. But an hour… that’s a long time, Newton. What were you doing before?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” he snapped. “You should be lucky I even called you.” He pointed to the stage, at the body. “This whole fucking thing… it’s all on you, Lola. That body is here because of your stupid little investigation, mark my words. I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if I turned you and your investigation away.” Each and every word he spoke was laced with venom, thrown at me like knives, but I didn’t flinch.

I wasn’t afraid of Newton or his temper. I didn’t give a shit about his empire or how this would affect his business. If someone else came into the city, tried to take me down, and it looked like they were going to succeed, Newton would jump ship without hesitation. He always wanted to be allied with the victor, and someone like that you could never truly trust.

“And I’m just saying,” I spat back, “it’s awfully convenient your cameras all happened to cut out. This serial killer didn’t strike me as the kind of criminal who knows how to do something like that.” No, he was an outright brute, if the bodies I’d seen so far meant anything, and brutes tended to be the opposite of tech guys.

Newton knew exactly what I meant by that, for he slammed his glass down and pointed toward the stage, to the body. “You think, what? ThatIdid this? That I would sabotage my best night of the week by leaving a body here, all for you? Come now, I hope you don’t think I’m that recklessly stupid.”

Hmm. That much was true. He wasn’t stupid, and he loved money so much I didn’t think he’d sacrifice a dollar. It added up, after all.

Newton took a step towards me, and it was then I realized how tall he was—six feet, easily. I think I only realized it because I wasn’t wearing heels, like I always did when I strolled into this gentleman’s club. His expression darkened, the look on his face one of pure rancor.

“If I were to kill someone,” he whispered darkly, “I wouldn’t leave their body as a display. If I killed someone, Lola, you’d be the last person I’d want knowing.”

Right. Because here, secrets were power. Let’s not forget that.

I still didn’t quite think it all added up, but I noticed my guys had wandered away from the stage, coming toward us. Newton stood less than a foot in front of me, glowering, frowning, generally being a fucking sourpuss because I acted like he was suspicious—because he was.

But I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. I’d faced down far worse than Newton. I’d fucking sung in this goddamned club like some throwback to a twenties call girl. I’d faced down my incest-loving brother and rid the world of him for good. What I did to Aiden would be a playbook as to what I’d do once I had this serial killer in my hands.

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