Page 52

Not long ago, Tatum claimed to have seen two pregnant women somewhere upstairs. I blew her off at the time, figuring they were just the wives of guests, but now that I was actually thinking about it properly… how in the hell did that make any sense? What kind of pregnant women wanted to hang out here? Sure, the Lodge was the height of luxury and placed absolutely anything a person could desire right at their feet, but it still wasn’t exactly the kind of place a pregnant woman would want to spend time at.
So who were those women? Was there some innocent explanation for their presence like I originally thought, or were there actually other women here who were similar to Camille Gorham? Forced to donate their eggs to rich men’s wives or act as surrogates?
Christ.
How fucking deep did this rabbit hole go?
I pulled my cell out and headed through Tatum’s bathroom and into her closet. Then I called my father. He answered on the third ring. “What’s wrong?”
I tried to make myself sound as nonchalant as possible. “Nothing. Just had a question.”
“Well, I’m at one of the bars on the first floor, near the old State Room. Just come down here if you want to chat.”
“Can’t. I’m still with Tatum. Anyway, she mentioned seeing something the other week. I just want to know if she’s full of shit or not, like she usually is.” I feigned a derisive chuckle. I couldn’t let him know I was onto him yet.
Curiosity crept into his tone. “What did she claim to see?”
“Some pregnant women in a medical wing on the third floor. What’s that about?”
He paused, a little too long. “Oh, them. They’re the wives of Ron DuPont and Glenn Covington. They’re staying here right now.”
I frowned. “Who the hell are those guys? And why would their wives want to be here while they’re pregnant?”
“They’re Crown and Dagger members, of course. You don’t remember them? Old friends of mine. Glenn is an investment banker from New York, and Ron works in the oil industry.”
“Never heard of them,” I replied. They probably didn’t even exist.
“Well, there’s over six hundred men in the society. A hundred in the third level alone. I suppose you can’t remember every single name, can you?” He chuckled in what I imagined was meant to be a lighthearted manner. Instead, it sounded forced and fake.
“So why are their wives here?” I repeated. I wasn’t going to let him evade my main question that easily.
“One of the doctors we have here used to be a maternal-fetal medicine specialist at Mount Sinai in New York. He was a great one, too. We offered to pay more than the hospital ever could, though, so he quit that job and chose us. But he still sees pregnant women on occasion. Glenn and Ron want the best for their wives and babies, and they also enjoy being here at the Lodge, so they brought them here for the remainder of their pregnancies.”
Even over the phone, I could tell he was lying through his teeth. The too-long pauses, the overly-smooth tone, even the way he told me such specific details.
I once read that was the easiest way to spot a liar. A person telling the truth tended to glaze over most details or skip them entirely, thinking it wasn’t relevant. But a liar… they wanted their story to seem as genuine as possible, so they’d overcompensate and invent all sorts of random detail, thinking it would add more realism.
“I see,” I said, trying not to let my anger seep into my voice. “That explains that, then. Anyway, gotta go.”
I stared at the wall for a moment, trying to figure out my next move. Then I remembered the file my father once showed me. Tatum’s contract. He kept copies of the girls’ contracts in every office he owned, which meant there should be one in his office here too.
Obviously, the contract had to be fake, but if I could get a look at it and compare Tatum’s supposed signature to her real handwriting, I’d have solid evidence that she never signed it. Then, if I showed her that, she wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore. She’d have to believe that I was on her side. She’d have to let me help her.
I called Brett next. “Hey, man. How’s your break going?” I listened to him drone on about his vacation for thirty seconds or so, and then I finally cut to the chase. “Listen, I want to know something. When the island flooded, did the underground cells flood too?”
“Yeah, they all did.”
Damn.I thought they did, but I was hoping I was wrong.
“Was anything rescued from them?” I asked, a tense note in my voice.
“You mean apart from the girls?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, apart from them. I’m looking for a notebook that was in Tatum’s cell.”
The notebook in question was filled with her handwriting from when I’d forced her to write lines. It was the best thing I could think of to compare with the contract signature.
“No. Pretty sure everything down there was destroyed,” Brett said.