Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“So it was solely physical.”
“Sex is important, attraction too, but there was more. I liked the modest small town girl vibe you gave off with that hint off sass. I knew you were the kind of lass who’d drink a Guinness with me after a hearty meal, who wasn’t unfamiliar with hard work.”
I laughed indignantly. “I’m from Dublin.”
“Yes, but deep down you aren’t a big city girl. You like the quiet corner, the dark alleys. You like the next-door pub and familiar faces.”
“You could see all that from one look at me in church?”
“A few more looks to be honest, but yes. I’m good at reading people, but I have a feeling you still hold on to a few secrets.”
“Doesn’t everyone? Don’t you?”
“We all do. Some to protect others, some to protect us.”
On my daily walk through the neighborhood, I walked past the pub needing a new owner. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t make out much as I peeked through them. I shook my head with a laugh. This was ridiculous.
Finn would arrive in New York tonight, and Lorcan had his meeting with the Russian today. There had been a last-minute change of plans—Lorcan had to leave yesterday afternoon to meet Sergej somewhere else, supposedly for business reasons. Of course, he wouldn’t just use the meeting to talk about Imogen. She wasn’t important to him. I had other things to worry about than a restaurant.
I headed into Central Park again. Someone followed me. I could feel it on my neck, like a ghost touch that made you want to take flight. I threw another glance over my shoulder. Suddenly a shadow fell over me, making me cry out in shock and fear. I stumbled back, ready to run but bumped into another tall body.
“NYPD, Mrs. Devaney. No reason to panic.”
It took my terrified brain a moment to processed what the man in front of me had said. “NYPD?” I echoed, confused. It wasn’t Desmond.
“Police,” a familiar voice said behind me.
“I know.”
I glanced back and forth between the two. They were both in jean jackets and sneakers. The man before me, who looked as if he might hail from Mexico or Puerto Rico, reached inside his back pocket and pulled out a police badge which he presented to me. “You can buy them for fifty bucks in Sodom and better quality,” I said haughtily because I didn’t like how they cornered me.
I’d never had a problem with the police. My only encounters with them had been when a customer at Merchant’s Arch had too much to drink and became aggressive. But Desmond and his colleague made me feel backed into a corner. They treated me as if I, too, were a criminal—maybe because I was married to one.
Desmond gave me a condescending smile. “This is the original, Mrs. Devaney. If you don’t believe us, we can take you to the police department to have this conversation.”
“What kind of conversation?”
Desmond raised his hands. “Listen, maybe this meeting started off on the wrong foot. We’re here to help you in exchange for information.”
“You already told me that you think Lorcan is responsible for my sister’s disappearance.”
“And you choose not to believe us,” Desmond said.
He nodded at his colleague who pulled out two photos. They had been taken at night and were slightly blurry but it was very obvious who was on them. Imogen and Lorcan. The photo was taken through a window. Imogen was only in white underwear or a bikini and Lorcan had backed her against a round table with a sleek white leather bench behind it. Where had this photo been taken? Not in Lorcan’s apartment, that was certain. The next photo showed Lorcan tossing a wad of cash on the table beside Imogen’s naked leg. I swallowed hard, remembering how he’d paid me after our night in Sodom.
“When did you take these?” I asked, my voice toneless. My belly flipped and I was sure I’d throw up.
Desmond and his colleague exchanged a look. “About three and half weeks ago. Shortly before you showed up.”
“Where?”
“Where do you think?” Desmond asked, making me feel like a stupid child.
“In Sodom.” It all made sense, the money, Imogen’s half-naked state. This was probably the part of Sodom I hadn’t seen, the one where girls looked for sponsors instead of auctioning themselves off.
I knew what Imogen had done for the money, and I felt as if I was about to pass out. My stomach revolted as my vision became blurry.
“Are you okay?” Desmond reached for me but I stepped back.
I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“What happened after this photo was taken?”
“Our contact couldn’t take more photos for his own protection. But your sister and Lorcan moved to one of the private rooms to intensify their first encounter. We don’t know if they kept seeing each other after this initial meeting, but we think it’s likely.”