Page 47 of Cruel Dreams

He gulps it down and sets the glass on the bar. “I dropped Miss Barton at Ladies and Gentlemen. Quinn and Stella—” he stutters— “Miss Sawyer and Miss Mayfair, were already there, waiting outside the club. Miss Barton appeared to know the security watching the door, and the bouncers let them past the line. You didn’t give me further instructions, and in those cases, I wait nearby.”

I nod. I give Douglas a fair degree of flexibility and often let him do as he pleases—especially if I know I’ll be a while. Nat has Douglas’ number programmed into her phone, and she knows she can ask him to pick her up whenever she needs.

“There’s an Irish pub behind the club, and I used the restroom and ordered a soda and something to eat.”

I know the pub he’s talking about. One of my clients likes how they build their Guinnesses, and when we have business lunches, he often prefers to eat there. On the east side, a patio attached to the bar butts against the staff parking lot of Ladies and Gentlemen. They also have rooftop seating, but the strip club’s loud music ruins the ambience. I thought about buying the pub, but I didn’t follow through. I’ve heard people buy beer to drink while they wait in line to get inside Ladies and Gentlemen, and I didn’t need the headache.

“I went up to the rooftop for some air and to stretch my legs. I didn’t know how much longer Miss Barton would be, and I wanted to stay close. A black van drove into the back lot of the club, and Miss Barton came out, hanging on Mr. Black...Ash. The two security men who let them into the club shoved Stella and Quinn into the back of the van. Mr. Black sat in the front. A different car picked up Miss Barton, Nathalie, and they drove off.”

I inhale a deep breath through my nose. “Then what happened?”

“I ran downstairs. I lost them, and I started to panic. An ambulance stopped the van just long enough I was able to spot it, and I followed them to the shipyard on Industrial Avenue. The van parked near a cargo ship, but I couldn’t get close without giving myself away. I parked behind a warehouse and went after them on foot, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Mr. Black, Ash,” he fumbles in his has haste to get the story out, “tied Stella’s and Quinn’s hands behind their backs, and after some harsh words, Miss Barton’s, too. Another woman was with them, Eleanor Guthrie.”

He taps on his cell phone and hands it to me, a picture of the group on the screen. The photo is grainy, like Douglas had to zoom in as close as he could but was still too far away to take a clear shot. The lighting is terrible, and I can barely identify anyone. I don’t recognize the two bouncers. Stella’s copper-colored hair reflects the glow from the shipyard security lights. Quinn’s beside her, but with her black hair and dark red dress, the shadows swallow her. Nora’s standing near Ash, and Nat’s white cocktail dress is the only thing that pops against the black night.

“Miss Barton said something to Mr. Black and Miss Guthrie, and he pushed her into the river. There is no chance she survived, Zane. I’m sorry.”

I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and try to relieve the headache building in my skull. Ash killed Nathalie. He must have known she was helping me dig up dirt on him.

Fuck.

“What happened to Stella and Quinn?”

“The two toughs from the club dragged them onto the cargo ship. I couldn’t see more unless I followed, and I didn’t want to call attention to myself. I drove directly here. I’m sorry. I should have tried—”

I cut him a sharp glance. “No. You did the right thing.”

“What are you going to do?” Douglas tries to pour another drink, but his hands are trembling too terribly, and I rescue the decanter and trickle an inch of scotch into the lowball glass.

“We let the whole world know what Ash’s doing. Because of his sudden interest in Nora Guthrie, I have every reason to believe once that ship reaches its destination, Stella and Quinn will be sold at auction to the highest bidder.” I push back the image of Stella kneeling under a spotlight, her hands bound behind her back, tears running down her face, and rich, dangerous, lethal men, deciding how much she’s worth.

I extract as much information out of him as I can. He couldn’t see the name of the ship, and that will slow us down. Those goddamned things all look alike. If it’s already set sail, it won’t get far, but we’ll need time to search the river. Now that Ash has Stella and Quinn on board, he’ll move quickly.

Mel’s only had a couple hours of sleep, but she whips into action. Max, too, dives onto his computer and starts writing an article that could win him the Pulitzer.

Banks and I have had a little contact since I confronted him in my office, and tonight, he sounds receptive to assisting us, possibly hoping to cancel out the past five years he’s been keeping secrets from me.

“What do you have?” he asks, alert.

I repeat what Douglas saw.

“They’ll need days to sail out of the Great Lakes Waterway,” Banks murmurs, sounding distracted. “I’m looking at a map. I’ll contact the field office in King’s Crossing. I’ve worked with Special Agent in Charge Daria Nordstrom in the past. She’s very efficient, good at her job, and runs a smart team.”

“I want to be there.”

“There’s nothing you can do, at least, not right now. We’ll have to locate the correct ship, and we’ll need backup. It won’t be easy to search a ship of that size.”

I don’t like it, but what he said makes sense.

If they use local law enforcement, Ash will hear that his ship’s been intercepted. There are dirty cops on the King’s Crossing’s police force who work for the Blacks and not the city, but there’s nothing Ash will be able to do about it. It will be the FBI’s job to link the ship to Ash and possibly Clayton, and no amount of pig squealing will keep that from happening.

I sink into a chair at the conference table and over the furious clicking of Max’s laptop keys, relay Banks’ and my conversation to Mel.

She taps her fingers against her own laptop. “I hacked into the shipyard’s website. There are a handful of ships waiting to embark, but only one scheduled for today. I don’t know if it’s Ash’s. Of course, his name is nowhere near it.” She pauses. “I’m sorry about Nathalie. Do you think Ash really killed her?”

“Douglas says he saw it, and I don’t doubt him. Maybe you should use the courtesy phone at the front desk and call nine-one-one and tell them you witnessed a murder. It’s not the first that’s happened in the shipyard. I should never have asked her to help me.” I rub my hand over my face.

Mel scowls. “She was playing both sides, Zane. You’ll never convince me she and Ash didn’t have tonight planned all along.I don’t want to say she got what she deserved, but trusting Ash was her first mistake.”

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