Page 46 of Convict’s Game (Skeleton Crew #1)

Cassie inclined hers. “Then that’s our objective. Mila, are ye ready?”

I recoiled. “You want me to help with an interrogation?”

“Don’t you? We aren’t going to beat her up. Only persuade her to give us the information we need. Think of it as a business meeting. You’re dressed for it.”

I swallowed bile. In my preparation for the auction, I’d considered how far I was willing to go to protect what I cared for.

I’d spent the year going into new situations with new people, many of them viewing me with hostility as a management plant they didn’t trust. I’d grown thick skin, but extracting information from prisoners pushed my limits.

Then Convict’s touch on my spine grounded me.

I flashed a look at him. “Will you come?”

“I’ll be right there with you.”

Strangely, that was all I needed. “Let’s do this thing.”

The three of us journeyed to the basement, and to a hall of rooms outside of the main floor where Convict and I had sealed our fate just a couple of weeks ago.

In a small, locked room, Tracey Eavis, Esther’s mother, rose from her bed.

Her hands were cuffed together and linked to a chain on the wall.

It rattled when she moved, giving a macabre addition to the stench of vomit and sweat.

“It’s about time. I’ve been calling and calling and nobody—” She spotted me, and her complaint shifted to a snarl. “You.”

I held up the vodka bottle we’d taken from the nightclub’s stockroom. “My arm is feeling fine, thanks for asking. We have some questions for you.”

Her gaze followed the bottle. She lurched for me, the chains holding her back. “Give that to me, you stupid bitch.”

Cassie tutted and extended a hand. I passed her the bottle, and she stepped over to the corner where a bucket sat next to a drain. Then she unscrewed the lid and upended the bottle so the clear liquid poured out.

That wail we’d heard over the CCTV filled our ears.

“What did Jan Salter promise Esther for selling me out?” I shouted over the noise.

Tracey spluttered. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it!”

Cassie righted the bottle, and I repeated the question, gaining Tracey’s attention this time.

She blinked with reddened eyes. “Why the fuck should I tell you anything? You’re the reason she’s dead.”

Cassie tipped the bottle again, the alcohol glugging away down the pipes.

“Stop. I’m begging you. Just give it over.”

“Then answer me.”

“He offered her a job,” she spluttered. “A good one. Decent, honest work in managing the girls at the auction.”

That’s what she meant by me being a golden ticket. “Girls they were selling?”

She gave a shaky nod.

“Why did he want Rhys Jacobs?”

“Who?”

Damn. I tried another approach.

“Did Salter come to your flat?”

She kept her gaze glued to the vodka. “Esther always went to his place.”

“And where is that?”

She extended a hand. Her fingers shook. “The drink first.”

Cassie laughed and flicked the bottle to spill a couple of shots’ worth. “You have to be kidding.”

“Fuck you, you stupid slut. You’re a nasty bitch. Okay, okay. He does business from his office in Stanholm Yard. You’ll never get him, though. Esther said there were so many escape routes. It’s a rabbit warren. She never liked to stay long.”

I swapped a glance with Cassie and Convict, and both nodded. We were done.

But Cassie gave one last parting word. “We’ve gone easy on ye today. I am not above ending the life of an old drunk because you’ve pissed me off. Say a word about being here or what we asked, and I’ll drown ye in a fucking vat of the alcohol ye find so precious. Understand me?”

Tracey nodded frantically and snatched for the bottle. She sucked down the vodka like she’d die without it.

“Thanks for the information. I’m sorry about Esther,” I murmured, my instinct to close out the meeting in the way I would at work, but she wasn’t listening anymore.

Outside, I breathed in a lungful of clean air.

To Cassie, I said, “You’re scary. I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

The woman preened. “I aim to please.”

“In a way, you’re right. That was like a board meeting. Just with more honest emotions. We got what we needed, right? Or as much as we could.”

Convict pressed a kiss to my hair. “You did good, little gangster.”

I had no excuse for the burst of pride his words gave me.

Back at the office, Tyler and Kane had clearly listened in and had been joined by Arran, Shade, and Riordan. Someone had pulled up a map on a screen. They scrutinised it, phones in hands.

“Can’t find it on any of the industrial estates.” My brother’s usual scowl deepened.

Arran swore. “I know this city like the back of my hand. But that name rings no bells.”

Cassie cleared her throat, plucked out her phone, and dialled a number, putting the call on loudspeaker.

Lovelyn answered. “Hey!”

“I’m calling in an official capacity of the Skeleton Girls Detective Agency.”

Lovelyn laughed. “Are you assigning us roles? Can I be the sassy hacker type? I make a mean spreadsheet.”

“Deal! Love that for us. How about starting by locating Stanholm Yard in Deadwater?” Cassie asked.

Lovelyn made a sound of interest. “I’ve heard that name somewhere. Hold, please, caller.”

All gazes fell on Cassie’s phone, then Lovelyn spoke again.

“It came up in an informant interview about six months ago. I knew it was familiar. The location is the Scotsdale Trading Estate, the last plot. It used to be a pet food warehouse. Is that helpful?”

Kane stared at the phone, Shade slapped Arran’s chest, then they commenced a frantic discussion, all the men leaning in. Weapons appeared then vanished under clothes.

Cassie tipped an imaginary hat. “You’re literally the best researcher I ever met. Want to come by for breakfast?”

Still on the line, Lovelyn laughed. “It’s closer to dinnertime, but yes, why not.”

Cassie hung up and linked her arm through mine. “While the boys play, want to come up to mine? I can catch ye and Lovelyn up on Richard Yelland.”

I’d put the disgusting pervert who’d bought Becky in the auction to the back of my mind having passed all I’d learned over to the skeleton girls. “I’d love that. I have some work to do, though. Is that okay? The exploding ship needs to be handled.”

Cassie cocked her head. “Are you thinking it’s somehow linked?”

“I wasn’t until this very second. Surely not.” Yet Convict’s words about all the threats around me circled back. I frowned and went to him.

Convict took in his crew mobilising, his expression tortured. A dark light shone in his eyes.

I touched his arm. “Are you going with them?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I won’t leave you alone. Not after last night.”

I took his hand and led him down the corridor so we had privacy.

Then I made him look at me. “My plan for the next few hours is to hang out with the girls and try to unpick some mysteries. I won’t leave the warehouse, not because you’ve commanded it as I won’t be treated like property, but because I choose to give you peace of mind while you work. ”

His lips quirked. “You like it when I treat you as belonging to me.”

“Or maybe I need time away from you,” I countered. “You want to join your crew and be useful. I can see it in how tightly you’ve clenched your jaw. Go. Trust that I’m good for my word.”

He studied me for a long minute, maybe reaching the same realisation I had. Without trust, we had nothing. And if we kept repeating the pinnacle we’d reached last night, we wouldn’t survive it. Whether ‘it’ was fake or not.

“How about a compromise? I’ll work on the remote camera feeds and be the eyes in the sky for my crew. That’ll take all my attention but I’ll stay in the building, in the ops room down the hall.”

I was still annoyed, though much of it was an act. “So long as it gets you out of my hair, it’s perfect.”

He reached for me. Palmed my cheek and kissed me hard. Then he joined the mission planning while Cassie and I got to work.