Wicked Legacy (Serenity's Plain Secrets Book 10)

by Karen Ann Hopkins

  I tilted my head, staring at the information on the wall until my vision blurred. “The two men were on the run for murder and burglary charges in Illinois, and they end up in rural Nevada at a cheap motel and brothel?”

  “That’s the sum of it.” Toby didn’t look up.

  “Who’s your witness that placed George Walker here?”

  Toby flipped through his notes. “Bernadette Franklin—a desk clerk. She works nights, so hopefully we’ll have access to her after dark.”

  I returned to the table and sat down across from Toby. “Why would they stay together? Seems like they’d be less likely to attract attention on their own.”

  “Good point. Records show that the men shared an apartment for several years and even had a joint bank account at one time. They worked at the port of Chicago together, and that’s where I assumed they met. There’s no trace of contact between them before then.”

  The room wasn’t as awful as I expected it to be. There were two queen-sized beds, a table, chairs, and a small black refrigerator. Desert landscape paintings hung above each bed. We’d checked for bedbugs and hadn’t found any. Still, the place oozed wrongness. I’d found that locations where criminal or deviant activities occurred held onto the dark vibe long after the deeds were committed. It could just be my imagination running wild, but I doubted it. The Wild Colt Motel was full of wickedness, I was sure of it.

  “From what I read in your files; these men weren’t idiots. Their criminal life had been fairly structured, and they’d been savvy enough to avoid arrest. Their success as fugitives proves that.”

  Toby finally lifted his head, meeting my eye. “What are you thinking?”

  “If you’re on the run, traveling to a brothel isn’t such a stretch, I suppose. Getting shot by a prostitute seems out of line for either of these men. Neither man had an extensive crime record until they started burglarizing homes together. They both had jobs and weren’t in serious debt. Your notes said that you didn’t suspect any drug use either. Their previous crimes were armed robbery and the murders they committed were during the act of breaking into the residents of their victims. No sexual crimes were perpetrated during those incursions. Their crimes were money making endeavors, and I’d throw in they got off on the edge work. Andre and George took pleasure in what they did. What brought them together? It was mostly a common adrenaline rush. They got off on being criminals. The first high was breaking into a residence. They did what they had to in order to succeed, even if it meant murder. The second rush of adrenaline came from running. Andre Jackson and George Walker were very calculated in everything they did. Coming to Nevada wasn’t a random thing. Sharing a bank account suggests they were lovers or had been. That’s why it strikes me as odd that Andre would have been in hotel room with a female prostitute.”

  Toby folded his hands across his chest as he leaned back. “If the sheriff thing doesn’t work out, check out profiling jobs at the FBI. I think you’d be good at it.”

  I grunted. I’d already been offered a job at the FBI and passed. “Why do you think Andre was in a motel room with a female brothel worker? Did he swing both ways? If so, wouldn’t she have taken care of his needs at the brothel? Why come here?”

  Toby cupped his jaw, nodding slightly. “I figure they had a personal relationship before he ever arrived at the brothel, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint any other connection. There’s no flight, public transportation, or credit card record of either man having traveled to Nevada before. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t. They could have driven a car and spent cash.”

  “Did the motel have vehicle information for them?”

  Toby flashed me a wry grin. “They didn’t ask us for our car’s make, model or license. It’s not the motel’s protocol, so nope. We still don’t know how they got here.”

  “I doubt your man George is still in the area,” I said. Something occurred to me and I bolted upright. “Unless the men had business here. He might stick around to close a deal or lay low for a while.”

  “What kind of deal would take them from Chicago to a brothel in Nevada?”

  “That’s one of the things we need to find out.” I checked the time. “I’m going to start getting ready. The quicker we start the process, the faster I get home.”

  “Are you already homesick?” Toby asked, opening a file folder.

  “Not exactly. I’m just worried that if I’m gone too long, all hell will break loose in Blood Rock.” I wasn’t kidding either.

  12

  I envied Toby’s laid-back style. Even working a case, he looked like he was ready for a nap. I glanced over my shoulder. The Wild Colt Ranch Brothel was a busy place. Men of all ages were seated at the two dozen or so tables and at the long bar counter in the large room. The room was decorated mostly in velvet and hues of red, but the infusion of rough-cut lumber and wooden floors gave it the feel of a saloon from the 1800s. In a way, it was exactly what I expected, but not entirely. This was most certainly a well-run business. There were at least a twenty large-framed, hardened looking security personnel placed strategically throughout the main floor. Before we even walked into the two-story rustic, lodge-style building, we were frisked and my purse was thoroughly checked. It’s never easy leaving the gun locked in the car, but this was one of the times it was unavoidable.

  The sign read, guns and drugs are not permitted, and the management meant it. Once we were cleared by a hulking Asian man who looked like a sumo wrestler, another muscular, hard-faced, unsmiling man led us into the lobby. Everyone was polite, but not quite friendly. The system to get us from the front door to the stools we currently sat on at the bar was orderly and efficient. Up until now, I hadn’t spotted a single woman. Since the entire scene resembled something like a drug-induced dream or an unbelievable streaming TV show, the fact that I was the only woman in the room didn’t really affect me that much. The brothel workers hadn’t even batted an eye, but several of the Johns glanced my way with hungry eyes.

  “What can I get you, ma’am?” the bartender asked.

  The guy’s Aussie accent was swoon worthy. He was tall, blonde, and had a perfect face. His smile seemed genuine and his t-shirt with the brothel’s logo on it was tight enough to show off his muscles. This guy was too pretty for a place that focused on pleasing men. Of course, the brochure had said it was an equal opportunity pleasure provider, so there were bound to be some men providing services to clients as well. I held in a smirk. I certainly wasn’t in Blood Rock anymore.

  The man’s name tag said, Jared. “I’ll have a glass of red wine, Jared.”

  The bartender’s smile expanded. “Nice choice.” He turned to Toby. His eyes were less playful, and I guessed Jared liked women better. “And you, sir?”

  Toby ordered a beer. When the bartender returned with our drinks, I lowered my voice and acted shy. “Excuse me, I’m new to this” —I hesitated for effect— “kind of thing. What happens next?”

  Jared leaned over the counter. He shot Toby a glance. “I’ve seen you before.”

  “I wasn’t going to bring my wife here without checking out the place first,” Toby said smoothly.

  Jared stared at Toby’s hand, the one where a finger should have worn a wedding band. Shoot. This guy is good.

  “And you’re sure this is your wife?” Jared’s gaze flicked my way.

  For the first time ever, Toby’s expression loosened. He looked flustered, but only for an instant. “You got me.”

  Jared’s eyes lit up when he looked at my wedding band and diamond ring. He enjoyed making people squirm and I made a mental note of it.

  “No worries, mate. No one here cares about your personal lives. We deliver fantasy and fun, no questions asked.”

  “You did ask a question though. What was that all about?” I couldn’t help myself. Jared wasn’t going to get away with playing mind games with us.

  Jared po
ked the air with his finger. “You’re a feisty one, eh?” He leaned in until he was close enough for me to feel his breath on my face. I stayed in place, clutching my glass of wine. “If you’re interested in a little one on one action, ask for me.” His smile deepened. “I’m not just a bartender.”

  I was a sheriff and a married woman in my thirties, and my cheeks still burned. Daniel knew I was investigating a brothel, but I hadn’t given him any specifics. He didn’t really want to know. I’d deal with the shame later on. Right now, I had to stay in character.

  I kept my eyes glued to Jared’s green ones. “Who would I arrange that with?”

  The smile on Jared’s lips trembled. “Melinda—our Madam—will set it up.”

  Toby decided to jump in. “You know, we’re supposed to be working on other things—”

  “Oh, let her have her fun, mate” Jared told Toby. Another customer got his attention and he left after winking at me.

  Toby drew his stool closer. “I think you’re having a little too much fun, Serenity.”

  I took a gulp of wine, set the glass down, and lowered my voice. “I’m a good actor. The chief sent me undercover all the time to nab men in sex string operations. I got used to it. It’s easier to put on a show when you know there’s a woman on the other end who’s being saved.”

  Toby froze. What I’d said had sobered him. “I try not to forget about the victims, but I’m usually so focused on finding my fugitive, I do. Thanks for reminding me.”

  French style doors opened on the other side of the room. I’d seen a lot of crazy shit over the years, but the sight of what came through the doors was even new to me. A line of women, twenty-four—no thirty strong—formed a line and weaved between tables. They were all ages and shapes, from just barely looking eighteen-year-old bean poles to voluptuous thirty-somethings. Some wore skimpy show clothes, a few were topless, and most had long hair. The women paraded through the room with exaggerated movements and with huge smiles planted on their heavily made-up faces.

  At a glance there wasn’t a way to pick out the Amish women in the group. I was about to whisper the question to Toby when a woman closed the doors. She was slim, blonde, and wore a stylish Kentucky Derby-looking felt blue hat with peacock feathers. It matched her blue satin pantsuit. She followed the other women with an unmistakable air of authority. Surely, it was Madam Melinda King.

  “There’s Ms. King in the blue,” Toby said close to my ear.

  I didn’t respond and continued to watch Melinda stop to talk to the men at each table. Her hands slipped along men’s shoulders when she bent down to them. Her movements were staged and yet, fluid. She’d lift her chin and laugh, and even across the room, her voice sounded melodic.

  Toby touched my shoulder. I followed his gaze. “There’s Lynette, also known as Jewel, in yellow. Clara is the brunette in pink, near the back. She goes by Echo.”

  I never would have suspected that Lynette had been Amish. Her long, red hair was straightened to complete silky flatness. The yellow bikini she wore wouldn’t have been considered revealing at a beach, but in a club atmosphere, she had to be cold. She was a pale-faced beauty, but the hardness of her features and the forced smile were noticeable. Lynette wasn’t having fun.

  Clara looked younger than Lynette. She still had the plump, innocent look of an Amish girl. Her pouty lips and the pink tutu were a complete contradiction. She remained at the side of a bleached blonde-haired woman who was probably in her thirties. It wasn’t her athletic frame or the leopard pelt thing she wore that caught my attention. It was the way she watched over Clara with protective eyes. Either she was in charge of the younger woman or she had a personal relationship with her.

  A catchy show tune blared throughout the room as the women circulated. Amazingly, most of the men behaved themselves. Only a few made cat calls. The security team didn’t interfere when customers made lewd comments. They were at the ready for anything that might interfere with a profitable night.

  “It’s so humiliating. These women are being showcased for the purchase of sex,” I muttered.

  “We talked about this on the way over here. We’re not here to judge. It’s all legal in this part of the world. Our job is to find my fugitive and solve the case of the missing Mt. Carmel girls.” Toby talked out of the side of his mouth. He played the part of an interested man when a large-breasted African American woman sauntered up to him.

  I was supposed to be Toby’s partner, but I ignored him as he played along with the charade. I was too busy trying to spot Melinda again when she popped up at my other side unexpectedly.

  “We don’t have many female patrons.” Melinda’s voice was sultry. She tilted her head and smiled. “That doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy some soft skin and curves from time to time. I’m Ms. King.” She gestured at Jared, who even at the other end of the counter, still had eyes on me. “Our boy would like to show you a good time…if you’re into guys.” When I didn’t immediately respond, she added, “I have several women that would enjoy some time with you as well. Whatever pleasure you like.”

  Dammit. Toby’s plan wasn’t going to work. I could tell by Melinda’s foxlike focus that she wouldn’t be fooled by our made-up story. Even with her flamboyant outfit, I could still picture her in a white cap and polyester dress. Beneath all the energy and sex talk was a woman who had been raised in faith and with high ethics. That was the person I needed to reach.

  I used the same shy act. “Can I speak to you alone, Ms. King? The crowd is sort of overwhelming me.”

  Melinda’s face softened and understanding flared in her blue eyes. She glanced at Toby. “I’m not sure it’s safe to leave that one behind.”

  I looked over my shoulder and spoke loud enough for Toby to hear. “He’ll be fine. I trust him.”

  Melinda stopped the man who had led Toby and I into the barroom and whispered something into his ear. The man gave her a curt nod and made his way toward the middle of the room at the same time Melinda touched my arm and tugged me to follow her. I didn’t look back at the marshal. I figured he’d get it that I was working my own angle. He’d managed to convince the pretty sharp madam that he was a bit of a cad, so I didn’t worry that he couldn’t carry on the disguise successfully without me.

  The man Melinda had just spoken to dinged a piece of silverware on a glass. The music ended and the man called out instructions for the patrons to consider who they wanted to spend their money on—that they had a few more minutes to decide. I caught glimpses of smiling men writing on pieces of paper as we passed by.

  Clara raised her gaze right as I came alongside her. Our eyes met and then her brows arched. The look made me nervous. It was almost as if she’d seen right through my green dress and suede jacket to an imaginary badge.

  The noisy room disappeared behind us as I followed Melinda down a long hallway. She opened the last door on the left and motioned me inside. I did so without being too paranoid. I was happy to be away from the leering men and their prey.

  Melinda closed the door behind us. “Please have a seat.” She went straight to a liquor cart. “What’s your poison?”

  “I’ll take a bourbon.”

  I scanned the room while she poured the drinks. It was an ordinary office. A desk, a couple of chairs, and a shuttered window, all in shades of tan. An overflowing bookshelf and several file cabinets completed the room. I noticed that most of the books filling the shelves were romance paperbacks. There wasn’t anything else in sight to make me think I was sitting inside of a brothel.

  Melinda handed me the drink and instead of going around the desk to sit behind it, she took the chair next to me. “The guest list says you’re Serenity Dunbar. Is that your real name?”

  And we’re off. I took a sip of the liquid, enjoying the burning sensation as it went down my throat. “The Serenity part is.” I lifted my shoulders. “It didn’t seem right to use my real last name,
you know? I have a job back home in Indiana. Coming here is a secret.”

  Melinda’s lips pressed together. “Where in Indiana?”

  “Blood Rock,” I replied, watching for Melinda’s reaction. She tried to hide her surprise, but I saw the glint of recognition.

  “Oh, my. That’s not too far from where I grew up. Have you been to Mt. Carmel?” She kept her voice cool and conversational.

  “Sure! I have a girlfriend who lives out that way, close to the Amish. When I visit her sometimes, I pass by horses and buggies. We have Amish in Blood Rock too.” I sighed for effect. “They have the loveliest lifestyle.”

  Melinda gave a soft snort and shook her head. “I suppose it appears that way, but the Amish have their corruption like everyone else.”

  I feigned confusion by widening my eyes and placing my hand on my chest. “I hate to hear that. They seem untouched by all the horrible things that are going on out here in the real world.” I sunk into the seat. “That’s kind of depressing.” I raised my gaze and forced out a whisper. “The Amish don’t come here, do they?”

  Melinda’s eyes flared, and then she snickered. “Not in the way you’re imagining. Enough talk about those silly people. Why are you here, Serenity?” She stared at me the same way I looked at people I was interviewing. Melinda was working hard to read me my intentions.

  “I’m separated from my husband. He’s a contractor and I work at a bank. We don’t spend a lot of time together and have grown apart.” I looked down at my feet. “Nothing is official, but I’ve known Toby a long time. He lives in Arizona and I decided it was time for me to take a few days off and go someplace new.” I could feel her eyes on me. “We tried to, you know, get intimate the other night, but I just wasn’t into it. He suggested we come here. Something about a three-way to help inspire my sensual side.”