Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
But how the fuck is a cooler full of hearts circumstantial?
Ugh. But how can I know for sure?
I almost slap myself in the face when I realize how simple it is.
Harrison works in a hospital. The same hospital Rouge sits on the board of.
He can look into this. See if any unexpected organ donations made their way to him. Alissa mentioned an older couple who got organs that were perfect matches out of the blue. They had signed a form indicating they’d refuse treatment if a match wasn’t found in a month. Then, miraculously, a heart and a pair of lungs showed up.
As soon as I finish up here tonight, I’ll go to Harrison’s and we’ll figure out how he can investigate this further. He’s an attending physician in the hospital, so he must have access to records my sister would rather keep private.
Now I just have to keep my head—
A knock at the door.
Oh, God. Please be an old creep wanting to fuck me.
Anyone but—
“Bianca!”
Damn it.
It’s her. My sister. It’s like she’s clairvoyant. She always shows up at the worst possible moment.
I take a deep breath in. She doesn’t know that I know. She doesn’t know that I know.
The mantra does nothing to ease my nerves.
I paste on a smile and open the door. “Good evening, Rouge.”
She bustles into the room, brushing past me. She takes a seat at my vanity and crosses her legs. “I just had the most fascinating conversation with Mona.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Mona?”
“Mona Roth. One of our patrons.”
Right. Mrs. Roth. The woman who was trying to get into the bathroom.
Time to think on my feet.
I crinkle my eyes in a way that I hope looks like innocence. “Of course. What did you two talk about?”
Rouge cocks her head. “She said you locked yourself in the ladies’ restroom. That you blocked off the entrance, kept her waiting on the outside for several minutes.”
I force a laugh. “It was all a big misunderstanding.”
“I told her as much,” Rouge counters. “I asked her why you would possibly be using the ladies’ restroom when you have your own private toilet here in your dressing room.”
“There’s a logical explanation, as I told her.”
Rouge curls her lips. “You told her your bathroom was out of order, and you were experiencing a particularly turbulent menstrual cycle.”
“Well, I was a bit more discreet than that—”
“Even though”—Rouge’s eyes shine with amusement—“you and I both know you’re not due to bleed for another week or so.”
I widen my eyes. “You and I both? Have you been tracking my period?”
She sniffs. “Don’t act all surprised. I keep track of the cycles of all my female employees, especially those who sell their services to the gentlemen of Aces in the private suites. I need to know when one of my workers will be out of commission for a few days, unless of course the patron in question prefers it that way.”
I almost gag at her words, but I swallow it down. “Fine. If you must know, I ate something that didn’t agree with me. I was experiencing some…gastrointestinal distress.”
“Then why not wallow in your own private toilet? Why take it public? I know as well as you that your bathroom is not out of order.”
I think fast. “It was on my break. You know that sometimes the musicians hang out in my dressing room during the break. I was afraid it would be noisy. I didn’t want them to make fun of me. And the feeling hit out of nowhere, so I panicked. Ran into the ladies’ room. It was empty, and I didn’t want anyone else walking in, so I pushed the chaise against the door.”
She clasps her hands across her lap. “That’s an awfully big chaise for a petite woman like you to handle all by yourself.”
“I scooted it. It’s not that heavy. I’m stronger than I look.”
Rouge narrows her eyes. Then she gets to her feet and glides to my dressing room door, glancing dismissively over her shoulder. “I hope you feel better, Bianca.”
I blink. “I already am. Thank you, Rouge.”
She opens the door slowly, keeping her eyes on me until she’s finally departed.
I lock the door and lean against it.
She didn’t buy it.
I gave her an answer to every question, but she’s my sister. She knows when I’m lying.
But what she doesn’t know yet is why I was lying.
There are lots of reasons I could have gone into the restroom and not wanted anyone in there with me. Maybe I took a lover in there and hooked up with him. I couldn’t have used my dressing room because the musicians were in there.
Maybe I was shooting up some illicit substance. I wouldn’t be the first Aces patron to do something like that in the bathrooms. We’ve dealt with a lot of overdoses.
The least likely explanation is that I was uncovering my sister’s organ harvesting ring.