Page 126 of High Society

“I’ve moved myself. As a matter of fact, to Dana Point. I’ve rented a house near the water. It’s not as fancy as yours, but it has three bedrooms and a garden out back that could really use your help.”

“My help?”

“I want you to move in with me, Papa. After all, as we learned, Dana Point isn’t the safest neighborhood to be living in alone.”

Walter grins again, his relief practically palpable. “But… what about Herr Professor?”

Holly pulls her hand from his arm and stands up. “That reminds me. I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late to meet Aaron.”

As she drives over to Aaron’s house, Holly reflects on how she and Walter aren’t the only surviving victims of her father’s crash. Her mother has suffered, too. Largely, in silence. The poor woman, who was never equipped to handle intense emotions, not only had to cope with the death of her spouse and her daughter’s depression, but she also had to carry the secret that her husband was about to leave her right before he died.

As Holly pulls up to the curb, she makes a mental note to call her mom again soon. Maybe even book a trip to visit her?

Aaron welcomes her at the door and wraps her in a hug. Holly is wooden in his arms, but she can’t help herself.

“I’m glad you reached out,” he says with a sheepish smile after he releases her. “How’s Walter doing?”

“He’s OK. Thanks. Pretty much back to himself.”

“Good. Please wish him my best.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“I read that article in the Orange County Register last week.” Aaron whistles. “Amazing. It just never ends with that tribe of yours.”

Holly still can’t believe it herself.

After deciding she couldn’t hide from Katy Armstrong any longer, Holly had agreed last week to sit down with her in person for an interview. She arrived at the café bracing for the worst but was surprised when the first question Katy asked was, “Is Simon Lowry still a client of yours?”

“You know I can’t answer that.”

“Even if he was the subject of a criminal investigation?”

“He is?”

“He will be.”

“For what?”

“Sexual assault. Involving multiple victims.”

Based on all she knew, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, yet Holly still felt shocked. Not only over the accusations, but also the fact that Katy had been hounding her all along to discuss Simon, not ketamine therapy or any of her clients’ deaths.

“If Simon hasn’t been charged, then how did you find out?” Holly asked.

“One of his victims reached out to me a few months back when he first went public. After speaking to her, I tracked down others. A few of them were willing to talk on the record. They all corroborate the same story. Lecherous old rock star coerced them into sex that soon progressed to nonconsensual violence and humiliation. Your typical predator shit.” Katy snorted. “Two of them were teenagers at the time. They signed an NDA, so I’m keeping them as anonymous sources. I could do the same for you.”

“Anonymous or not, I can’t speak about clients, past or present.”

Katy tried a few other angles but eventually gave up, accepting Holly’s stance and even paying for the coffee. Two days later, the Orange County Register published her exposé on Simon. It sent immediate shock waves through the entertainment industry. And at least three separate law enforcement agencies had since opened criminal investigations into him.

While Holly felt a pang of sympathy for Simon—a man who despite all his fame and fortune was thoroughly broken—she was also relieved that he wouldn’t be able to hurt any more women.

Shaking off the memory, Holly clears her throat. “Can we talk inside, Aaron?”

“Of course,” he says and leads her into the kitchen, where they sit side by side at the counter.

Holly pulls out his house key, which she removed from her key chain earlier, and lays it down in front of him. “I thought you should have this back.”