Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I take a few steps toward her. “What’s what, baby?”
She pulls out a small manila envelope—the kind you might use in a game of Clue. “This isn’t mine.”
“Did you leave your purse unattended? Maybe someone slipped it in by mistake.”
She shakes her head. “It was on my person the whole time. It’s been either on me or in my locker at work ever since”—she slaps her hands to her cheeks—“Sunday afternoon. The same day you got the riddle. That we found May. I… I was looking for Dinah, to help me translate the note. But then one of my patients flatlined and I ran to his room. All the nurses in the area were in the patient’s room as we brought him back. Anyone could have walked up and put this in there.”
“Give it to me,” I say.
“It’s just an envelope, Maddox. It can’t hurt me.”
“Still, if one of us is going to open it, I’d rather it be me.”
She hands it over. “Knock yourself out.”
I undo the metal fastener on the envelope and flip the top open. I empty the contents into my hand.
Two playing cards, with the Aces Underground logo on their back.
That’s weird.
I flip them around and my blood runs cold.
The Seven of Spades. And the Nine of Diamonds.
Both with a big black X through their numbers.
18
ALISSA
“Maddox, what is it?” I ask.
Maddox hands me the envelope, as well as two playing cards.
My heart leaps into my throat as I look at them.
The Seven of Spades—May’s assigned number at the club.
And the Nine of Diamonds—her friend Svetlana, who disappeared when her contract was up.
Both with their number crossed out in black ink.
I try to speak, but my breath catches in my throat.
This is another clue. A hint. May and Svetlana were both killed, most likely by Rouge Montrose or one of her muscles.
But… If this was left in my handbag Sunday afternoon…
It was before I had ever spoken to May.
I went to Aces after Dinah translated the note. I had left my credit card there, had to settle my tab. But I just used that as an excuse to get into the club. I wanted to check things out. See why May was asking for my help.
She hadn’t even broken the rules yet.
But unless this card was placed in my bag at another point—and I’m honestly not sure when else it could have happened—then it means that May was marked for death before I spoke to her.
My head hurts.
“Alissa.” Maddox runs his hand up my arm. “Alissa, baby. Talk to me.”
“I just… It’s not making sense.” I massage my temples as I try to process it all. “This would have been dropped in my bag before I went to the club, before I broke the rules.”
He widens his eyes. “Shit. So you think…”
“May wasn’t killed because she broke the rules.” I pace the room. “She was always going to be killed. Her decision to speak to me just gave Rouge a good excuse to explain away her so-called suspension.”
Maddox crosses his arms. “Unless this got placed in your bag after Sunday.”
“I suppose it’s a possibility.” I tap my fingers against my purse. “But I’m pretty good about keeping this safe. Women are protective over their handbags. And I—”
Bill clears his throat in the corner.
I’d forgotten he was here.
“I hate to usher you out,” he says. “But I’d really like to be getting home.”
Maddox nods. “Of course. Sorry, Bill. Mind if I take a leak before we go?”
Bill frowns. “Of course. Down the hall and to your right.”
“Great.” Maddox looks at me. “Do you need to go before we head out?”
I don’t. But I also don’t want to be alone in this room with Bill. He seems like a decent guy, but I get an uneasy feeling around him. It’s probably just his job. He’s around death all the time, after all. He’s an ally to the stiff and lifeless. I imagine it’s hard not to pick up a macabre vibe in his line of work.
“Yes. I’ll run to the loo myself.”
“Help yourself,” Bill says. “Ladies’ is right next to the men’s.”
“Thank you.” I place the cards and the envelope back in my purse and follow Maddox down the hall.
The hallway is long, and we pass several doors. One is cracked—the placard on its front reads William K. Lassard, M.D., Head Coroner.
Maddox stops at the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I…” He scratches his chin. “Do you get the feeling that we’re not getting the whole story from Bill?”
I swallow. “I get a weird feeling from him. But you were the one who said you trusted him implicitly.”
“I thought I did,” he says. “But remember Sunday night when I told him that we thought this involved Rouge? He clammed up, got sweaty.”
“You don’t think she’s threatening him? Getting him to cover for her?”