Page 79 of Twisted Roses

“He said to look at the headlines.” Delphine barely finishes her sentence when her phone buzzes with a news alert.

We crowd around the phone to read what it says:

Northam City Mayor Joseph Bernstein Accused of Heading Secret Child Sex Trafficking Ring

The alerts pop up one after another from every major news network. For a repulsed moment, the three of us stare at the phone screen without a clue what to say.

Flynn steps back and swears under his breath. “I should’ve known he’d be next.”

“You knew?” I growl.

“I had nothing to do with anything Bernstein allegedly did!”

“Your immediate defensiveness is telling, Commissioner. Should I break some more fingers?”

He jumps back against the wall with his hands up. “You can’t possibly think I should be held accountable for whatever he was into. In case you’re unaware, I have no control over the mayor.”

So, in other words,yes.

I toss his phone to the floor and issue another parting warning. “What happened in this room stays in this room. If I get word you’re even thinking about bringing this up ever again, I will kill you. Are we clear?”

Flynn looks sicker over my death threat than the disgusting allegations against Bernstein. He gives a tight nod.

I grab Delphine’s hand and pull her along with me from the room. She’s in a state of shock herself. I can feel it in how stiffly she moves at my side.

“Bernstein is a ped…” she trails off, unable to finish her sentence. “I don’t even know what to say. His favorite charity has always been Fuel the Child.”

“This city is rotten, Phi,” I say as we move through the second floor corridor. “You shouldn’t be surprised when these skeletons start falling out of people’s closets. Every last one of them has them.”

Including your heroic father. I just need to prove it.

* * *

Delphine sits in shocked silence the entire drive from the masquerade. We never explicitly agree on it, but she’s coming home with me tonight—another one of those things we happen to read off each other.

The news about Bernstein has sent shockwaves through the city. On our way out of the museum the place had been buzzing with speculation. Scandalized tones, runaway gossip, and everything in between.

So much for his campaign for reelection.

This about guarantees Ernest a win.

I slide the latch into place on the loft door. Delphine’s wandered over to the sofa and plopped down.

“I’m rethinking everything,” she whispers. “I never would’ve guessed.”

“Expect anything from everyone. It’s easier that way.” I join her, lowering myself onto the cushion beside hers. I’ve loosened my tie and shrugged off my suit jacket.

“I’ve known him since I waseleven.”

“Well, it’s good he never tried anything, or I’d have his severed head on my coffee table right now.”

“I’m just… questioning a lot. So many small moments around him. How did NorthamNeptune find out?”

“How did he find out about any of these secrets? He seems to have access to the rich and powerful somehow. If the allegations are true—if Bernstein was running a whole sex abuse ring like that—then it could be he’s a victim.”

“Or she,” says Delphine. “They digitized their voice.”

“We’ll try to track the call. You were on the line long enough. But I’m sure whoever it is thought ahead. Their other communications have been air tight so far.”

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