Page 36 of Phantom
My latest victim only confirmed what I’d already suspected. That there’s more to Gus Day’s affiliation with the Chatelains than I thought. I just have to figure out what that is.
“Will she be able to meet tomorrow night?” I ask.
“She will. By that time, she should have all the videos compiled into one format for easy transfer.”
“Good.”
I wait for Sabine to continue, but she doesn’t. She knows why I really wanted her here, but she’s hiding the ball for some reason.
“And what about earlier today?” I finally relent.
When I visited Scarlett’s empty room this afternoon, not only could I not find her medication, what Ididfind made my stomach drop.
There on the coffee table were nearly all the music sheets I’ve given her over the past year. Ripped to shreds.
I’d crumpled to the couch and sat for way too long, just sifting through the pile. My heart pounded in my throat the entire time as I tried to piece together both the actual pages, and why she would do this. Was what happened last night the catalyst?
The thought had nearly made me sick, and I’d called my second-in-command to get to the bottom of it. If something I did caused that reaction, then I’m sure as fuck going to fix it. Somehow.
Sabine sighs and sucks her teeth, looking more than unwilling to tell me what she found out. I’m about to do what I never have to do and prompt her again when she finally answers me.
“There was an incident today while Scarlett was trying on her dress.”
“What kind ofincident?”
“Jilliana got angry at Scarlett for blackmailing Monty.”
Well, that’s unexpected. Why anyone would assume Scarlett is involved is bewildering. My muse may have a darkness in her that only I can see, but she’d never stoop to my depths.
“Where did Jilliana come up with that theory?”
“Jaime says she found your correspondence.” My heart sinks. “Your letters to Scarlett and the one to Monty have the same wax skull seals, so Jilliana put two and two together.”
“Shit,” I mutter, not caring that my second sees my disappointment. “Anything else? How did she end up with Chatelain?”
“Jilliana took your letters and tore them up in front of everyone, then accused her of sabotaging her and Monty. She… also blamed Scarlett’s disorder.”
“Fuck. Why didn’t Dominguez stick up for her? He knows his position.”
“Jaime said he and Maggie didn’t want to out you and were at a loss of what to do. Heat of the moment indecision.”
“Unacceptable.”
Sabine shrugs. “We don’t all get to hide in the shadows and it’s harder to perform in the spotlight.”
My eye darts to hers, but I know she can’t see my reproach. I feel it oozing from my every pore though, so I have no doubt she can tell my displeasure. I don’t like being scolded with backhanded metaphors.
Sabine, of course, doesn’t care. It’s no good to have a bootlicking second and her measured boldness is why Ben and I trust her with our lives.
“Apparently, Jaime tried to console her after she ran to hide in her dressing room, but she wouldn’t open her door. He heard her talking on the phone and making plans, but she refused to stop and listen to him or tell him where she was going when she left. He would’ve followed her, but he had class.”
I shake my head and sit back, setting my drink down before my clenching fists fracture the glass. My own actions have cascaded to this point and now Scarlett has suffered. I have to fix this. I’ve already made an effort to remedy the torn pages, and she was able to get new medication today, but I need to cure the rest of the pain I’ve caused her. I didn’t humiliate her and push her to Rand directly, but I toppled the first domino.
My mind drifts back to Ben’s observations about Rand’s plans for the city port. The Chatelains have dealt in women, drugs, and blood money from the beginning. The Bordeaux agenda has always been to thwart the Chatelains’ access to the port. In the process, we’ve financially, legally, and physically protected New Orleanians who are loyal to us. After Prohibition, when alcohol became legal again, the Bordeauxs began to deal in information instead, and when necessary, like this morning, there’s the occasional violence to secure it.
We’ve always been smarter, keeping them from ruining the city and only ceding ground when our mothers’ attempt at peace backfired and Laurent Chatelain decimated my family.
But unlike his ambitious brother, Rand cares more about his style than his reign. He’s been in New York doing God knows what with who the hell knows. The unknown is what makes me the most nervous. If the impressionable fool found someone else to follow on their coattails, then he very well may have come back to finish what his brother started.
