Twisted Lies 4 (Dirty Secrets)

by Sedona Venez

  So who’s talking to the Feds?

  I made a mental note to have Kevin find out.

  “Bigsby, I swear,” Jeff blubbered on the recording. “It’s not me. I would never betray you.”

  Bigsby growled, “It’d better not be you because that shit will earn you a damn dirt nap.”

  There was utter silence and then the sound of something creaking open.

  “What’s in the safe?” Jeff asked with a nervous voice. “Bigsby? What the fuck?” There were sounds of objects dropping. “Come on, Bigsby,” he yelled. “Why are you pointing that gun at me?”

  “You scared?” Bigsby taunted.

  “Yes!” Jeff squeaked.

  “You should be.”

  “Be careful with that gun, Bigsby.” Jeff’s voice trembled.

  “What did I tell you that I do to people who betray me?” Bigsby asked in a menacing tone.

  “You. Kill. Them!” Jeff yelled.

  “Exactly,” Bigsby growled. “See this gun? It reminds me of what I’m willing to do to get what I want. More money. More power. More pussy. And I’ll crush anyone who even thinks about getting in my fucking way.”

  Jeff blubbered, “Listen to yourself, Bigsby. Why would I want to stop you? I want what you want. I stopped recruiting women for Ben and came to work for you. I didn’t have to. I could have let Ben be the middleman between us, but I didn’t because I knew you were the man with the master plan. You and me… we’re partners.”

  “We’re not damn partners,” Bigsby snapped. “You work for me, asshole.”

  “I thought…” Jeff’s voice trailed off.

  “Leave the thinking to me, idiot.” Bigsby laughed coldly. “I’m the brains. You’re the help who gets the girls. That’s where our business arrangement starts and ends.”

  “But I thought if I bagged more bitches, you’d think about—”

  “Making you partner?” Bigsby asked. “Hell no.” He chortled. “The last business partner I had was Greer Cruickshank, and he was a hell of a lot smarter than your dumb ass.”

  My shoulders bunched, but I kept my face expressionless. Cruickshank was the person Bigsby had bragged about to Mom before killing her.

  Bigsby carried on. “In fact, Greer was too damn smart for his own good. That’s why I had to burn his ass alive.” He chuckled. “The idiot wanted out of our business arrangement because he had fallen in love with that Jemma Kane bitch. She’d pussy-whipped the chump.” He snorted. “No one leaves me… ever. Not unless it’s in a damn body bag.” He paused. “My only regret is that I put too much trust in our friendship by letting him bring Jemma into the business—especially when I didn’t know that bitch at all. Shit. By the time I realized they were fucking each other and she was pushing him to get out of the business, it was too late. She’d already sunk her greedy little claws into his ass.” There was a beat of silence. “But I got even with that conniving wench by snitching her out to the Feds. I just never knew she and Greer had a baby together—that Sin Michaels chick—until years later. Shit. If I’d known about their child, I would have cut that baby right out of that backstabbing whore’s belly.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  I stood up and started pacing across the cement floor.

  Sin’s parents are Greer Cruickshank and Jemma Kane?

  “Holy hell!” Ram hissed, running a hand through his hair. “This shit has officially crossed into high-drama, reality show territory,” he yelled.

  Startled awake by the sound of Ram’s voice, Jeff bucked against the rope binding him to the chair. “Untie me!” he screamed in a high-pitched tone.

  Rocco growled, “Shut the fuck up!” before punching him so hard in the head that the chair rocked onto its back legs from the weight of Jeff’s naked body tethered by the rope. Rocco’s hand snapped out, righting it.

  Jeff blacked out again.

  I stopped midstride. “Not another word from anyone,” I ordered.

  The room went silent, except for the low whir of the air conditioner and the sounds from the recording.

  “What’s happening?” Kevin’s voice inquired through my cell’s speakerphone.

  “Press pause,” I instructed Kevin.

  “Done.” Kevin confirmed.

  I needed a minute to process the information from the recording plus everything that I knew. Kevin’s investigation into Sin’s family background had unearthed that she had two birth certificates, each one showing a different set of parents—the first, Ian Michaels and Grace Michaels, and the second, Greer Lorne Cruickshank and Aubrey Cruickshank.

  My mind raced to connect the dots.

  Is Jemma an alias for Aubrey?

  I made another mental note to have Kevin find out if my assumption was correct.

  “Kevin, go back a couple seconds in the recording,” I demanded. “And then resume playing.”

  Kevin did just that, and the recording started playing again.

  Jeff asked over the recording, “Damn. You would have killed their baby?”

  “Shit, I’ve done worse,” Bigsby confided in a chilling voice. “Like that stripper Stella who tried to blackmail me after she overheard me talking about killing Greer. She had the nerve to threaten me by saying she’d keep her mouth shut for a price.”

  My fists tightened. Stella was my mother. The woman he’d killed without a damn thought.

  My mind snapped back to the present when I heard Jeff’s voice on the recording. “Did you give it to her?”

  “Yeah, she got it all right.” Bigsby laughed. “Right in the fucking head with this .357 Magnum.”

  Fucker.

  I clenched and unclenched my fingers.

  Then there was the sound of a phone ringing on the recording.

  “Shit,” Bigsby exclaimed. “It’s that nagging bitch Cate calling me again.”

  I tilted my head to the side at the mention of Cate Bellisario—Bigsby’s socialite fiancée.

  Bigsby continued. “If I have to hear her ass whining again about some fucking detective her sister hired to dig into my background, I’m going to wrap my hands around her scrawny neck and choke her to death.” He mocked Cate’s voice. “Bigsby, Irvin is an excellent detective. Are you sure there’s nothing he’ll find?” He paused again. “Fuck Cate and her uptight bitch of a sister, Ariana. Shit. Once I become mayor, I won’t need her or the Bellisario family name anymore.”

  Jeff inquired, “Will Irvin find anything on you?”

  “Fuck no,” Bigsby spit. “I paid a lot of money to make sure my past was buried. There’s nothing linking me to that time in my life, except that fucking ledger.”

  “What ledger?”

  There was a long pause before I heard a heavy sigh.

  “When I was running girls with Greer and Jemma, we kept records of our business. It was like our little black book. I thought the ledger burned up along with Greer… until Grace contacted me.”

  “Grace?” Jeff asked.

  “She’s the wife of Ian Michaels—Greer’s brother. Her greedy little ass wanted money in exchange for giving me back the incriminating ledger. Little did she know that book was both a curse and a blessing. Yeah, it links me back to my past, but it’s also the only leverage I still have on rich and powerful fuckers in this city.”

  “But how the hell did she know about you and the ledger?” Jeff jabbered.

  Bigsby replied, “She told me when Ian heard I was sanitizing my past and starting to go legit, he got nervous and told her if anything happened to him, he needed her to protect Sin because he had incriminating evidence against me that could get them all killed. Apparently, Grace saw dollar signs and went behind his back, trying to extort money from me.”

  “So why didn’t you kill her?”

  “She gives good head.” There was loud laughter. “I was going to kill her after she gave me back the ledger… Well, I was going to kill them all.”

  “All?”

  “Grace, Ian, and Sin. But Ian found out his wife was trying to make a deal with me
, and he threatened to expose me with the ledger if I didn’t leave him and his family alone.”

  “Stupid bastard.” Jeff snorted.

  “Yeah… no one threatens me. So I hired someone to run him off the road, killing him. And that’s when shit went left. Grace couldn’t find the ledger in any of Ian’s stuff. She was drunk most of the time, and it was years before she remembered some old trunk that used to belong to Ian that she’d allowed Sin to take. Grace swore up and down that was the only place the ledger could be—in that trunk.”

  The playback of the recording stopped, and Kevin relayed, “Core, that’s all there is.”

  “Shit. That’s more than enough.” Rocco grunted.

  “That’s for sure,” Ram remarked while looking over at me. “Now we have everything we need to destroy Bigsby. The ledger and this secret recording. We can call this mission a success once we leak this information to the media, and Bigsby’s life as he knows it will be over.”

  My jaw tightened. “The plan has changed.”

  The original plan to strip away everything Bigsby held dear—his wealth, freedom, political career, and trophy fiancée, Cate—had been scrapped the minute Jeff exposed just how ugly a monster Bigsby was—a psychopath that had gotten away with a shitload of murders.

  Rocco sighed heavily. “That’s what I thought you’d say. I knew there was no way you’d let that fucker live now that we’ve gotten solid confirmation about all the people he’s killed.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Once I’m done with Bigsby, no one will ever know he existed,” I answered. “And I can finally move on with my life.”

  “So what’s the new game plan?” Ram asked.

  I cracked my knuckles. “We need to draw Bigsby out and then kill him, putting an end to this crap once and for all.”

  “Agreed,” Ram and Rocco roared in unison.

  “Damn.” Rocco shook his head. “I can’t believe that fucker put a hit on Ian Michaels.”

  “Or the fact that Ian is Sin’s uncle and not her father, like she thinks.” Ram chimed in. “Shit. Her whole world is going to be blown apart when she finds out the truth.”

  I bit back the expletive hovering on my tongue. Sin had told me that her father—or rather, the man she thought was her father, Ian Michaels—was killed in a freak car accident.

  How is she going to handle the truth? That it was a damn hit by Bigsby?

  “Well, this confirms Kevin’s intel,” Ram declared. “The apartment fire that killed Greer was arson. And now we know why Bigsby did it; he was pissed that Greer wanted out of their business partnership.” He frowned. “The fucked-up part is that Bigsby thought the ledger was burned in the fire”—he shook his head—“and if Ian had just kept his mouth shut, he would still be alive today.”

  “Probably,” I muttered. “Damn! This Bigsby shit is one big clusterfuck.” Adrenaline rushed through me as I just thought about all the lives Bigsby had destroyed. “But at least after all these years of wondering why that sick fuck killed my mother, now I know why.” It didn’t make losing her any easier, but I had answers now.

  “And we got Lexis, and she’s safe,” Ram disclosed.

  I nodded. We were all grateful that Lexis and the women were now under the protection of the authorities. But with Lexis, we had a whole other bag of issues. Even though she was happy to be rescued from her nightmare with Jeff, she was emotionally traumatized and embarrassed by the whole incident, and she refused to come back to Manhattan with Kevin. She tearfully offered that she wasn’t ready to face Ram or my team or her old life. It wasn’t the happy reunion Ram and the team had been anticipating, but we knew she needed time to heal. So Kevin had called one of his trusted contacts who could spirit her away to a highly secured facility that specialized in rehabilitating victims of domestic sex trafficking.

  “But doesn’t anyone think it’s a bit strange that Bigsby didn’t mention anything about killing Jemma or Aubrey?” Rocco asked.

  “Exactly,” Ram answered. “Plus, I bet you right now Jemma and Aubrey are the same person.”

  “I wouldn’t take that bet because I was thinking the same thing,” I gritted out. “Kevin, I need you to check out a couple things. One, who’s talking to the Feds about Bigsby? And two, is Jemma an alias for Aubrey?”

  “Okay,” Kevin responded. “I’m out. I’ll see you all back at the compound.” He ended the call.

  “So we know that Bigsby’s a psychopath,” Rocco hissed. “Do you think Sin’s safe?”

  “Hell no,” I replied. “Bigsby’s a loose cannon, and he wants the ledger back. So who knows what he’ll do to get it?” And I wasn’t about to find out. I would protect Sin with my last breath.

  “Time to wrap this shit up,” Ram suggested, looking at the unconscious Jeff.

  “Shit!” Rocco barked. “I missed a 9-1-1 text from Zuri.”

  My eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”

  Rocco read the text aloud. “Tabitha’s here. Asking Sin for money.”

  Tabitha Thorp was a disposable piece of trash who had served her purpose when I recruited her to help me get close to Sin.

  Rocco continued to read. “Catfight going down. Get your ass over here now!”

  I hurried over to my cell. “Zuri,” I voice-dialed with the phone on speaker.

  “About damn time!” Zuri whispered urgently.

  “Can you talk in private?” I asked.

  “Hold on.” There was a pause. “Okay, I can talk now.”

  “Where’s Sin?” I questioned.

  “She stormed upstairs… pissed. Look, I can’t talk long. I need to make sure Tabitha doesn’t dash after Sin and cause more trouble.”

  “What did Tabitha tell her?” I demanded.

  “Enough.”

  “Shit.” I flattened my lips.

  Weeks ago, when I’d gotten the call from Kevin about Bigsby’s interest in Sinthia, my first question had been, Who the fuck is Sinthia Michaels?

  It hadn’t taken Kevin long to do a thorough investigation, but he hadn’t found anything linking Bigsby to her. I had known though that if Bigsby was interested in Sin, there had to be a sinister motive, which was why I had to acquire Sinthia Michaels’s business fast. I’d had Kevin search through her background again, looking for anything that could be used as leverage. Surprisingly, Sin was squeaky clean and free of scandal. Frustrated and running out of time and options, I’d found a chink in her armor—money.

  She’d needed money, and I had lots of it. But to my frustration, I couldn’t find a way into Sin’s small inner circle without raising suspicion or scaring her off.

  That was when Kevin had found the game changer—Tabitha Thorp. I had known Tabitha from the old neighborhood. When we were young, we had hung out in the same criminal circles. The only difference was back then, the now-famous Tabitha had run drugs for her boyfriend, Ben Vargos. I’d even fucked her several times behind Ben’s back. She was a money-hungry whore who could be easily manipulated.

  So when I’d found out the currently successful Tabitha Thorp owed a shitload of money to her unsavory criminal ex-boyfriend, Ben, I’d swooped in. One call later, I’d recruited Tabitha to help me get close to Sin. Tabitha had convinced Sin of the value of getting an investor—specifically, me—to help her expand her business. In exchange, I’d agreed to take care of Tabitha’s debt to Ben and send her on a very long vacation.

  “But Tabitha didn’t tell her everything.” Zuri countered.

  “And she wants money,” I groused. It wasn’t a question but a statement.

  “Yes,” Zuri replied. “Apparently, she’s broke.”

  Tabitha could go fuck herself. Our business had been done the moment she took my money.

  “She implied money was exchanged between you two,” Zuri reported.

  Fuck.

  I hadn’t twisted her arm into taking the money. And the recording of Tabitha and our business arrangement would surely enlighten Sin.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

 
; She rattled off an address.

  “Max should be in the vicinity,” I replied. “Hold tight. He’ll be there to get Tabitha.” I ended the call.

  It was time to turn the screws on Tabitha and permanently shut her down. I had so much dirt on her shady dealings with Vargos that by the time I was done snitching her out to the authorities, she’d end up in jail, designing uniforms for the entire prison.

  “Max,” I voice-dialed.

  “Hey, bro,” Max answered. “What’s up?”

  “We just got a text from Zuri. Tabitha has finally surfaced.” I gave him the address. “I need you to get over there and shut her up. But don’t kill her. I just want to make a statement that I can find her anytime, anyplace. Call me when it’s done.” I ended the call.

  “I don’t like this shit, Core. Too many fucking loose ends,” Rocco grumbled.

  I didn’t need his ass telling me something I already knew.

  Ram stared at me. “I guess the talk between you and Sin is going to happen sooner than you expected, huh?”

  I ignored his gibe. “Let’s get this Bigsby shit over with.”

  Ram nodded over to Rocco.

  Rocco dumped the tub of water over Jeff’s head.

  Jeff’s limbs jerked into action. His eyes snapped open. “What…” he garbled.

  “Good. You’re awake,” I responded. “I wouldn’t want you to miss this.” I quickly swiped my finger over my cell, tapping the number and putting it on speaker. “Bigsby.”

  “McKay?” Bigsby answered. “What can I—”

  “Bigs!” Jeff yelled, his voice so hoarse it sounded broken with panic ringing in it. “Help…”

  “Jeff? What’s going on?” Bigsby asked sharply.

  I paced back and forth. “I have your ledger,” I responded, “and a recording.”

  “What fucking recording?”

  My nostrils flared. “Apparently, Jeff didn’t trust your dumb ass and needed some insurance. Frankly, I don’t blame him, given the fact that you’ve killed so many people—Greer, Ian, Stella, and her son.” I wasn’t going to reveal—yet—that I was Stella’s son, the little boy he thought he’d killed so many years ago. No. That little eye-opener would be unveiled right before I killed the fucker. “Poor Jeff was afraid he’d end up on your shit list, too. So he recorded you confessing to a lot of crimes.”