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“Nothing right now. It’s for my eyes only. If you ask me, and it is the same person, they’re doing the women of this city justice. Putting my law career aside, I still believe in the sanctity of marriage.”

I regret my decision before I speak the words. “Send me the videos—to my personal account. I’ll check on anything unusual. No promises, but I’ll look. And if I think the time is right, I’ll question Emi about Maren. Carlton wasn’t her favorite person, but she loves Maren.”

“Got it.”

“And Marcus, if I do this for you, you have to make me a promise.”

“What’s that?”

“Never use the term vagina vigilante again.”

Chapter 18

Emi

This is the second evening in a row Maren and I have followed Justin, driving around town as he runs errands. He hasn’t led us anywhere out of the ordinary, even stopping by a flower shop yesterday before going to the house he shares with Bailey. There are no signs so far of suspicious activity.

Bailey has messaged us that she’s staying strong and keeping up appearances, but her anxiety is about to make her crazy. She’s relying on us for some sort of closure.

“Well, today’s another dud,” I grumble as Justin turns into his driveway.

“Maybe not, I think I’ve got something,” Maren drives down a side street and exits the neighborhood. She drives us to the back of a parking lot before parking and reaching behind my seat for her computer.

“Whatcha got?” I lean in to see the computer screen after she connects to the Wi-Fi on her phone.

“That deposit Justin made a few weeks ago to a private account.” She points to several lines of numbers.

“What about it?”

“I had to do some fancy footwork, but I discovered it’s a club. The owners applied for their city permit citing the business as a night club.”

Her term fancy footwork is her way of saying she hacked. “He gave money to a night club?”

“I don’t know. The zoning in the area is ultra-industrial. Not the kind of place you’d find a nightclub. Also, the permit has a waiver for a residential area, separate from the club.”

“The owner lives there, too?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You think Justin is the owner and leading a secret life? Maybe has a woman on the side?”

“I don’t know. I think we need to ride out there and check it out.”

“Out there?”

“When I say industrial, I mean in-dust-rial. It’s about fifteen miles outside of town. I’ve tried everything to find it online, but nothing. Even the name on the permit isn’t listed anywhere.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means we need to drive our asses out there and look around. Maybe go in for a drink to see what it’s about.”

I look her over. She’s chosen a sleek, jet-black bob wig. She said it was the safest choice in case Justin spotted us. He’d never know her with black hair. I had to agree; she looks like a different person. I went with blonde today, poofing it out with large curls. But since I thought we’d be in the car, I also chose jeans and a black sweater.

“Maren, we don’t look like night club material,” I point out.

“Who knows? Maybe it’s happy hour ca

sual? Only one way to find out.” She sets the computer on my lap and starts driving. “While I drive, I need you to review the latest TA inquiries. We’ve had three since last night. I tried to respond, but haven’t had time to check today.”