I'll Be Waiting (The Vault Book 2)

by A. M. Hargrove

  The team goes to work, while I do a little research on Midnight. She started out in B-rated films, like most actors do, trying to get noticed. She got noticed, all right. With long black hair and unusual lavender eyes, she isn’t a raving beauty but she has an exotic appeal. Her seductiveness makes her unforgettable. There’s something about her that screams sex. Having been cast in the types of roles that not many mainstream actors usually want, Midnight is willing to spread her wings and try anything.

  Then I stumble upon something that makes me do a double take. Born in Phoenix, her birth name was Velvet Summers.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I say out loud.

  “What?” All eyes are on me as they ask.

  “Did you know Midnight’s birth name was Velvet Summers?”

  “Oh, that,” Leland says.

  “How did I not know this?”

  Misha shrugs. “Don’t know. Leland sent over a photocopy of her birth certificate. I thought you saw it.”

  “Who the fuck names their kid Velvet Summers?” But after I say it, I think of my best friend, Weston—his wife’s name is Special. Who names a kid that?

  Emily shrugs. “Yeah, people choose weird names.”

  I keep reading and find some interesting facts. Midnight’s mother was an exotic dancer, and some reports listed her as a stripper. She also was known to have a drug problem. Midnight ended up in foster care but then fell off the radar when she was seventeen. It looks like she never even finished high school. Maybe she really did have a tragic upbringing. Her mother died ten years ago, when Midnight was only fourteen—probably why she ended up in foster care. There’s no mention of a father in the picture. The plot thickens.

  Emily announces she’s gotten Midnight into one of the premier rehab facilities in the country. Located in Arizona, it has a spa-like atmosphere. She’ll be secluded from the Hollywood gossip and the rest of the world for a minimum of thirty days.

  “It’s pricey, but worth it, I believe. The reviews are astounding,” Emily says.

  “Good. We’ll drop her off on our flight back to LA,” I say.

  Misha announces our legal team in New York is ready for us if we need them.

  “Good work,” I say. “Hopefully, we’ll ID these people or at least track them with Rashid’s help. They didn’t show any faces in the videos, and they also wore condoms, so that cuts into our evidence. Maybe there will still be drugs left in Midnight’s system.”

  I’m going to do my best at finding those fuckers who did this and making them pay—with or without the police.

  Chapter Three—Harrison

  Her form huddled on the chair in the hotel room’s corner doesn’t surprise me. I’m surprised she’s not wailing and freaking the fuck out.

  I stretch out my hand. “Midnight, I’m Harrison Kirkland of The Solution. We’ll be handling your case here.”

  A puff of air leaves her chest. “Okay.” Her ice-cold, trembling hand shakes mine. She feels fragile, as though her fingers will snap if I squeeze at all. “Do you think you can help?”

  “I think so.”

  Violet eyes dig into mine. I wonder if she wears contacts. That color looks artificial.

  “First things first. I’m terribly sorry this has happened to you. It’s a horrible thing, and I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. In order to help you, we’re going to be asking you some pointed questions. But first, have you showered?”

  “No.” Her voice is so small and shaky.

  In the gentlest voice possible, I say, “Good. That means there still may be evidence present. Midnight, we need to go to the police so we can report the crime.”

  Her eyes dart around the room, as though she’s frantically searching for an escape hatch.

  She rubs her arms like they’re freezing. “I-I can’t do that. No police.”

  I pull up a chair and sit down next to her. “If we don’t report it, these guys may go free. My contacts here will search for them, but there are no guarantees we can find them.”

  “I … I, uh, I just can’t go. Okay? No police.”

  I quickly glance at Misha and Emily. They both shrug.

  “Okay, but what if we call in one of the crime experts we deal with and see if he can get some DNA off you? Maybe under your fingernails. It might help us catch these guys.”

  Jerky gestures accompany her trembling chin. “N-no.”

  She needs to understand the importance of this. Leaning forward, I say, “Midnight, if we don’t report this soon, we may miss our window.”

  She chews on her lip. “C-can I speak to you privately?”

  “Sure. Everyone?” I flick my head toward the door. They clear the room, leaving the two of us alone.

  Her voice is hesitant as she begins. “If … if I go to the police, it will expose something. Something from my past I don’t want to be revealed.”

  “I understand. But the police will be our best option of catching these guys, if that’s what you want to have happen.”

  Her lids flutter. “What I want is for this to go away … to disappear.”

  “Right, and we’re going to help with that. But the police …”

  Her mouth hardens. “No police.” She pauses. “This is hard to say … to tell you, and it’s something no one is aware of, Mr. Kirkland, but I used to work in the porn industry. If this gets out, I’m finished. Absolutely no police.” She jumps out of her chair and paces.

  Shit. This can be a definite game-changer. “Okay, I understand. This is totally your call. I just don’t want you to regret not reporting this as a crime since you were a victim.”

  She only nods.

  “How long ago was this?” I ask.

  “A couple of years.” Fuck. Not enough time for people to have forgotten her.

  “How many films?”

  “I don’t remember. I used a different name. Lusty Rhoades. I had blond hair and wore brown contacts, and I’ve changed my nose since then.”

  “I see.” Lusty Rhoades. “So, as I see it, we have two choices. One is the police, which you are not in favor of, and two is damage control. That was to be Plan B, but I guess we go straight into that without the benefit of the police. Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  “Yes. No police.” She stresses the words.

  This will have to be her best option. If the police dig into her past, the porn part would be revealed, and then what would we do? People, being what they are, would say she deserved what she got.

  “Let me bring the team back in, then. They have to be informed of this. Are you okay with that?” She nods.

  Once we’re again assembled, I say, “Midnight has decided no police, so let’s get on with it. Midnight, I want to know every single thing you did yesterday, from the time you woke up to when this happened. Don’t leave out any detail, even when you urinated. Am I clear?”

  Her mouth and eyes match in the way they form huge circles. “Everything?”

  “Yes. It’s important. Emily, you ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Emily will record everything so we don’t miss any detail. I need to know if Midnight is a drug addict, or if she’s really an innocent victim.

  “Start from the beginning,” I say.

  She begins with her flight in from LA and progresses to her photo session.

  “Then I went to dinner with Danny. The producer. Then we went to a club.”

  “Which club?” She names the place and I tell Leland to send someone over there to check their security tapes.

  Turning back to Midnight, I ask, “So, do you trust this Danny?”

  “Yes. He left with another woman. I was dancing with some guy. He seemed nice enough.”

  “Tell me about him. I want details.”

  “Tall, blondish hair. I couldn’t see his eye color because it was too dim in the club. His name was John. I’m sure it was bogus. He had a nice voice. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt. Light blue, I think.”

  “
How tall?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not good at that since I’m so short.”

  “Can you try? We need a number.”

  She squints at me and then motions with her hand. “Stand up.” I do, and so does she. “How tall are you?”

  “Six two.”

  “He was probably six feet, then.”

  “Good. Was his hair thick, thin, balding?”

  “Thin. Not thick like yours.”

  “Any marks on his skin? Tattoos, moles, scars?”

  “None that I could see. His sleeves were long. Were there any on the video that you noticed?”

  “Unfortunately, the video only caught him from behind.”

  She sits back down and I notice how she squirms and shrivels up in her chair.

  I crouch down next to her. “Look, I know how uncomfortable this must be, but we’re only trying to figure out who did this and why. Midnight, we do have a plan, but if we can catch these assholes, get anything that might lead us to them, we might stop this from happening again.”

  Her expression is horrified. “Again? They would do this to me again?”

  “They could do it to someone else, if not you specifically. That’s why we need to stop them. From what I saw, this doesn’t look like it was their first time. They didn’t leave any kind of trail. A novice would have.”

  It turns out that Midnight is very cooperative. When she concludes with waking up on the bed, it’s my turn to go to work.

  I don’t dance around the issue when I ask, “Have you ever used drugs in the past?”

  “No, I don’t use drugs.”

  “Ever?”

  “No! I may have an occasional drink and I’ve smoked weed a time or two in the past, but I don’t do drugs.” She bends down, digs into her purse, and pulls out a handful of gummy bears.

  “Misha, get her to pee in a cup for us. We need a drug screen.”

  Midnight bolts out of her chair, eyes on fire. “I told you, I don’t do drugs.”

  “Calm down. It’s a matter of us figuring out what they drugged you with,” I tell her.

  “Oh,” she says. “Sorry.” Then she pops a gummy bear in her mouth.

  Misha takes her to the bathroom for a urine test. When they come back a few minutes later, Leland arranges for a courier to deliver the specimen to a drug screening center with instructions for rapid results.

  “I’m sure the roofies will be out of your system, but if they hit you with heroin, it should still be present,” I say.

  She sits back in the chair, grabs more gummy bears, and tucks her feet underneath her.

  “Since you haven’t showered, we’re going to give you a break so you can. Does that sound okay?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Everybody, let’s give her thirty. We’ll be back.”

  Midnight nods her thanks.

  We reconvene in my suite, which includes a room with a large table that seats six. It’s time to gather my thoughts. Midnight looked like hell—rough and destroyed.

  “What do you think?” I ask Leland and Emily.

  “She’s telling the truth. We deal with enough liars that I can spot one when I see one. A liar, she isn’t. She’s got a lot to deal with, but she’ll have to get through this,” Emily says.

  “I agree,” Leland says. “She has fire and spirit in her.”

  I saw that same fire. Plus she’s too freaked to be lying. The videos were awful. No one would do that and lie about it. Sitting back, I thrum my fingers on the table. “I’m not sure she’s going to like our plan, but it’s the only thing I know that will save her career. I’ll do my best to persuade her.”

  Emily laughs. “You always do.”

  My phone pings with a text from Misha, who remained behind with Midnight. She tells us it’s fine to come back.

  I shoot back, Would she feel more comfortable in the suite?

  A few seconds later, the response is that they’re on the way.

  I pick up the phone and order breakfast and coffee for everyone. We all could use a little something to eat.

  Misha arrives with Midnight behind her. I have them sit at the table. Midnight’s black hair is wet and she wears zero makeup, yet it doesn’t deter from her appearance. She’s every bit as attractive without it. Only the deep, dark crescents lurking beneath her eyes mar her perfect skin and reveal her despair.

  She curls into herself as she sits. This can’t happen. I need strength, not someone who appears damaged.

  “I ordered some food and drink so it should arrive momentarily. I need to make a call, if you’ll excuse me.”

  When I’m in the bedroom, I call Rashid. With his hacking skills, it shouldn’t take him long to find the whereabouts of the fuckers who did this. When he tells me what he’s discovered, I want to smash my fist through the wall. They used her own phone to record and upload the damn videos. We’re at a dead end here.

  “We know where she was when it happened. Can you somehow hack into the hotel security tapes to see who she was with?”

  “If they’re closed circuit, they won’t be much help other than with a visual ID,” he says.

  “True. Maybe I can persuade the hotel to give us more information.”

  “If you can do that, I may be able to help you ID them.”

  Everyone is drinking coffee and eating when I rejoin them. Midnight pecks at a piece of toast like a bird.

  “You ought to eat more than that. It’ll help the drugs clear faster,” I say.

  “It was heroin. I’m almost positive. It was sheer euphoria that I’ve never felt before. I’ve seen others high on it before. I didn’t give a damn about anything.”

  Resting my palms on the table, I lean close to her and softly say, “Whatever you do, don’t ever do that shit again. I’m only telling you this for your protection.” The addiction rate with that drug is scary.

  “I told you, I don’t do drugs.”

  “The temptation may be high since you know how it made you feel. But the next time won’t make you feel that way,” I say.

  “Do you have a hearing problem? I. Don’t. Do. Drugs,” she spits out.

  I smile. “Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s continue.” Taking a seat, I say, “I want every single detail of what happened after you woke up.”

  She talks about the feeling of panic and how she ran out of the hotel, worried they’d come back and find her again. This is where she loses it.

  I give her a moment to collect herself, then start in with more questions. This is key, while things are still fresh in her mind. “You remember voices.”

  “Yes. A woman and two men.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Yes.” She’s adamant. “That I remember, but not much else. I couldn’t move my ankles. I remember that too. When I woke up and saw the ...”—she squirms in her seat—“that spreader bar, I remembered not being able to and it made sense why.”

  “These people knew exactly how not to get caught. My guess is they’ve done this before. That’s why they used your phone to upload the videos,” I say.

  She leans forward. “My phone? They used my phone?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” I hate that look of utter despair etched in her eyes.

  A hand flutters toward her face, but then drops to the table. “This keeps getting worse. It’s bad enough that Alta wants to pull my contract. I’m sure Holt is happy.”

  “Holt Ward? You mean your costar?”

  “Yeah, I’m not exactly his favorite person.”

  This puts a new twist on things. “Do you think he had anything to do with this?”

  Her mouth skews up, then gapes open. “Oh, I don’t ... well, he’s been a bit nasty to me, but I doubt he’d stoop to this level. Besides, I was with Danny, not Holt.”

  “True, but what if he had you followed?”

  “I can’t believe he could hate me that much.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I nod to Leland. This is a lead we need to follow up on. I want Ho
lt Ward checked out. I want his phone records examined. Leland gets up to call Rashid. Rashid will have an answer in no time. And it may lead to who did this.

  “So, this is our plan, Midnight. You’re going to rehab.”

  “Rehab? But I don’t do drugs!”

  “Doesn’t matter. Since you don’t want to report this as a crime, we don’t have any other option. The world has seen you with a needle and syringe in your arm, getting nailed by two guys and a girl with all sorts of BDSM toys and enjoying it. What it looks like and what actually happened are two different things, but it’s the public’s perception that counts. I know this is difficult to hear, but rehab is the only plausible solution we can come up with since you don’t want to go to the police. You’ll announce that you’ve made mistakes and are now ready to address your issues. The public will really dig this. You’ll have them eating out of your hand.”

  “But it’s a lie,” she insists, her eyes welling with tears. Then she wraps her arms around herself.

  I wall myself off from her emotions. It’s a necessary evil. It’s sad, yes, but my job is not to feel sorry for her. My job is to clean up the shit pile she landed in.

  “Midnight, the public has seen these horrible videos of you getting raped, except those men made it look like you were enjoying it. We pulled them as soon as we could, but that didn’t prevent people from taking screenshots and posting memes or digging into your past. My question to you is do you want to remain with Alta?”

  “Yes,” she cries. “I was the victim. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You don’t seem to hear what I’m saying. People don’t care about the truth. They only care about what the better story is. They don’t care that you were an innocent victim taken advantage of. They believe you agreed to all of this. We’re not going to change their minds since the police weren’t involved, unless you decide to report the crime. And if anyone does any kind of digging, they can find you did the uploading.”