Page 33 of Capitol Matters

“I know.” She sighed, returning the slice of bread to my plate. “But I also know you aren’t being entirely fair. I’m paid to serve my customers, Fitch. Customers like Grimm.”

I never claimed sole ownership of the whore madam’s affections, but I didn’t enjoy sharing them. Or coming second place to Grimm in matters of intimacy and honesty.

“I didn’t realize I needed to tip you out to be a decent person.” I kept my voice low so as not to attract the attention of the women gossiping nearby. “You could’ve warned me about Donnie’s tattoo. We talked about him all day. It was harder for younotto say something.”

Isha must have noticed the other ears in range, as well, because she stood, touched my arm, and waved for me to follow. “Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

Breakfast abandoned, we moved into the tattoo parlor. It was cool and dark with the lights off and the painted windows keeping daylight at bay. Isha led to one of the couches and sat, patting the cushion beside her.

I took the offered seat, and Isha leaned in, checking for other hallmarks of my previous night’s encounter. The smell of her perfume wafted over me, floral and fragrant.

“I have to keep business separate from my personal life,” she said. “It’s crucial.”

“So, is you fucking Grimm business or personal?” I shifted away and fixed her with a cold glare. “Is he just acustomer? Am I?”

“Not recently,” she replied, almost bitter.

“What about the ‘games’ you thought I’d lost my taste for?” My eyes narrowed further still. “Business or personal?”

Liv’s knowledge of my preferences came directly from the source. Clearly, the girls here traded secrets, and I didn’t expect to be exempt. But it felt like another betrayal.

“Because, if anything, you use me,” I said, “so maybeIshould get paid.”

Isha returned her hand to her lap. “You’ve made your point, but don’t miss mine. I am a professional, and I conduct myself accordingly. As a patron of my establishment, you need to show me respect. Not like last night. That was completely out of line.”

I shifted away from her, crossing my arms. “That wasn’t about you.”

“It felt like it was.”

Tension grew in the silence.

“Grimm tells me you’re doing dirty work for the Capitol,” Isha said at length.

So, they’d talked about me. I wondered if that discussion happened before or after I raided their love nest. Contract killings turned abductions for the government weren’t exactly pillow talk, but Grimm didn’t strike me as the type to whisper sweet nothings.

I let my head loll toward her. “That’s business,” I said. “Gotta keep it separate. You understand.”

Isha’s countenance darkened, and her red-stained lips pursed. “Don’t be an ass.” She sniffed. “I’m tryingto help you.”

I slumped on the sofa, looking at everything but her while thinking of my breakfast going cold in the next room.

“Many of the men in this city frequent my establishment.” She tried again to gain my attention. “Powerful men whose names might turn up on a certain list you were given.”

For all the effort I’d put into destroying the evidence of Maximus’s assignment, I hadn’t considered my cover being blown this way. I didn’t want Isha’s help, but it felt unwise to dismiss it out of hand.

I stood and fished into my pocket for my wallet. The madam had made her expectations clear and had established boundaries I thought reserved for those with less history than we had. But if she wanted to define me as a “patron,” I would conduct myself accordingly.

“Thanks for the tip. Here’s one for you.” I tossed a few bills to flutter into her lap. “Call me if one of those ‘powerful men’ shows up.”

She rose, spilling the money on the floor, and didn’t try to stop me from letting myself out the front door.

My dramatic exit had a fatal flaw in that my car was miles away in the Capitol’s parking garage, and the disaster cleanup crew was hard at work down the road. I couldn’t drive away and didn’t want to parade my rumpled clothes and bedhead past the construction crew. They had enough shit to say about me without witnessing my walk of shame.

So, I sat on the curb, called a cab, and waited.

If Felix talked tothe other investigators, the results were not immediately obvious. Holland continued running interference between her team members and me, and I suspected our Monday morning patrol was another iteration of that effort.

Downtown appeared to be her beat of choice, as we rarely ventured beyond it. While Holland drove, I nursed a lukewarm coffee, carried on meaningless conversation, and dodged probing inquiries about how I’d spent my weekend, where I lived, and if I’d talked to Donovan.

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