Page 57 of Contention

Pushing away from the grimy table, Derrick asks, “Can we speak to them about this? We are going to want them to take a look at properties owned by Paxton Brooker to see if he pays taxes on anything odd. Our private investigator will look as well, but the authorities should know. These people need to be stopped.”

X shrugs. “Why not? I have nothing else to do these days. I’ll speak to the cops if they come by.”

Kara isn’t sure she has come across anyone that acts already dead. It’s disturbing.

They all stand and say their goodbyes. Derrick is out the front door quickly, seemingly distraught.

Kara pauses on the way out, staring at this broken creature that must have been a woman once, bright with life. The question that has been dying to creep out of her mouth this whole meeting comes forth. “Why did you do it? Why did you choose to go to The Room?”

X gives her the thousand-mile stare that seems to see straight through Kara, disturbingly. “I wanted to disappear. And some people enjoy making others shells without souls.” As she speaks, she gives a strange little grimace, exposing the fact that her teeth are jagged and shattered in some places.

The urge to flee finally pushes Kara away, chasing after Derrick.

Outside, Kara goes to stand beside him, feeling ill. His shoulders are tense and his face is tight, eyes dark. “I don’t think this has anything to do with Max Dotaire and the rape.”

Kara gasps in disbelief. “Well, maybe not but what about Paxton Brooker and gross negligence at the club, allowing criminals to be hired, bringing in abusers, and hiring people who push others towards a secret torture ring?”

Derrick shakes his head. “We can check his properties to see if anything strange pops up that fits the bill, but frankly this sounds like something for the police. I don’t think we can use her for anything, but the police might be able to.”

Frowning, Kara can’t believe what he’s saying. “So, this is a dead end? Derrick, that woman was tortured! And filmed!”

He goes to his car, carefully examining the door to make sure no one keyed him while in the less than lovely neighborhood. “That’s why the cops are needed. If the operation is connected to the club, we are in business, but if it’s just a bad egg in the club, we are out of luck.”

An idea comes to Kara in that moment, like a lightbulb going off. “I know someone in the precinct that I can reach out to. Might get this on their radar fast.”

He nods. “Alright. Work that angle. I think this is too long a shot for Max Dotaire though. We are close to closing on the case, maybe a few weeks out. It’s up to the jury now to say if they want him to go down for rape or something less severe.”

Great. Even Derrick is having his doubts about the case. As he drives away, Kara fishes for her keys in her purse, feeling down. X is a train wreck in human form.

As she drives, it begins to rain outside. Kara sighs and wonders distantly if Calais will still back Paxton Brooker if the nightmare room is connected to Brooker after all. A cold feeling sits in her chest at the thought.What if he knows about it?

She dials Detective Ray Wellis. “Hey. Ah. It’s me, Kara. Kara Hayes. Can we meet?”

He sounds surprised, pleasantly so, and offers up one of the popular hipster coffee spots. Kara agrees, though she secretly hopes to see not a single man-bun while drinking her coffee. Turning her car wipers on, she changes her route to meet him.

The place is cozy, filled with people on their laptops, with their sketchpads, some just reading their books with their headphones on. A few token man-buns appear and Kara shivers a bit out of principal. Nope, nope, not her thing.

She sits and waits, twiddling her thumbs when the front door jingles. Detective Ray Wellis steps in, bringing in rainwater with him, dressed in his beige trench coat that makes him look like he’s ready to solve crime. He turns his midnight eyes in her direction and heads to her table.

“Has something happened?” He’s soaking wet, trench coat dripping with water, three-day scruff growing on his face, circles under his eyes, and still he’s looking at her like he’d jump in front of a gun to save her life. “Is anyone bothering you from that night?”

A warm feeling grows in her chest, but Kara pushes it away. Why can’t he drop it?

“It’s not about that,” she says carefully. “You already know how I feel about you bringing up things that didn’t actually happen to me.”

Ray gives her a strange look, dark eyes disappointed. Then, he sighs, as if accepting Kara intends to be a stubborn ass until the end of her days. “Alright, if this isn’t about you, what is it about?”

Kara sits back in her seat. “It’s about theDark Miragecase. Derrick Benson and I found a potential witness who used to frequent the club. She was referred to a place called ‘The Room’, as she no longer found her needs met at the club.”

The man across from her furrows his brows. He looks like he doesn’t get where she’s going with the story. “Uhuh…” He gestures for her to continue.

“Detective Wellis-”

“Kara, just call me Ray.”

She sighs and starts again. “Ray. The place is a torture chamber. And I don’t mean like a BDSM dungeon meant for play. This place…they torture people within an inch of their life and videotape it for profit.”

Ray goes still, his back straightening. “Tell me everything.”

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