Page 90 of Chaos Crown

Breath vacated my lungs. Spinning and twisting, my mind strained to comprehend why the well-dressed private investigator was standing in Rhys Martin’s home—

I spotted something behind his back. “What is that?” I cried, shooting up. “What are you hiding!”

“Whoa. Relax.” Gold raised his arms, and the large brown envelope, beside his head. “I believe this is what you’re looking for.”

“How do you know what we’re looking for?” Cairo gritted. “Did you fucking tie up and beat this guy?”

Gold didn’t respond, which was answer enough.

I scrambled for my phone. “I’m calling the police.”

“That’s not a good—” Gold moved toward me and suddenly Cairo was in our path.

“No, what’s not a good idea is getting any closer to her.”

“All right,” Gold said, sliding back. “No need for that.” The guy was still talking like we walked in on him masturbating and were making a big, prudish deal about it. “I’m only trying to warn Miss de Souza that if she makes that phone call, she won’t like the consequences. Jack Sharpe revealed a lot of damning information on the bug I planted in his bedroom.”

My vein bled cold.

“It’d be difficult for him to clear your names if he’s brought up on charges for the many felonies he committed after your grandmother was murdered.”

“A bug,” I croaked.

Gold shook his head almost sadly. “I’m afraid so.”

“Why would you—?”

“Why would you bug my father’s place?” Cairo shouted over me.

“I was paid to by my employer.”

“I’m your employer,” I cried.

“You were until Steven Ellis discovered I was poking around in his affairs, and paid me twenty times my rate to work for him. He hired me to carry out one simple task.” Gold opened the envelope, drawing out an old, yellowed parchment. “Find the deed.”

I moved first.

Bolting around Cairo, I launched at him.

“Ah ah!” he shouted, whipping out a lighter. “Stay back or it burns.”

“Why are you doing this?! That’s all it takes for you to flush your self-respect and reputation down the toilet? Throw some money at the coin whore, and he’ll beat up an innocent man and steal from a client!”

Rage snapped his calm. “Don’t speak about things you don’t understand. Self-respect and a good reputation don’t pay my wife’s medical bills or send my daughters to college. Ellis was contacted weeks ago by a Sheriff Davidson. He told him that Jack Sharpe was in possession of Abigail de Souza’s will, and the deed to Bedlam that she willed her granddaughters.

“The man was on vacation, so now was the time to search his home and find where he hid it.”

“Double-dealing sack of shit,” Cairo growled.

I could not have said it better. I felt twice as uncaring about his death as I did a minute before.

“I searched his place. Cracked his safe. But I found nothing. In the end, I bugged the house in hopes that when he came back, I’d overhear him mention a cabin, a storage facility, a friend—anywhere he might’ve stashed it. That worked out so much better than I can believe.”

I inched to the side, giving Cairo a clear path. “Congratulations, you’re a successful thief. But it’s over now, Gold. I’m not letting you walk out of here. Whatever leverage you think you have over Jack Sharpe is worthless. That same recording makes it clear he was under duress. A psychopath that’s killed before threatened his son. They’ll be lenient.”

“He’ll still lose his job. His credibility will be worthless. Your boyfriends will go right back in a cell.”

“My old man is due for retirement, and prison can be character-building,” Cairo returned. “Hand it over.”

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