Page 119 of Scorned Beauty

I spun on her. “Fuck you! Leave me out of your crusade. I don’t want any part of it.”

“Are you willing to let a pedophile get away with everything? Did he do something to you when you were younger?”

“No,” I whispered, but he could have. I could see Mr. Tomlin’s face. He wasn’t a congressman then, just a handsome, rich employer who seemed extra nice to me. It started with being concerned I was lifting heavy furniture in order to clean. Opening doors when I was hauling out the trash. Smiling at me. Tipping us extra after a job. He told me I had beautiful hair and stunning green eyes. That I should become a model. Anger surged. I didn’t doubt Vivienne Tomlin knew that her husband was a sexual predator. She could have fired us. But no, she had to be vindictive. She had to send us to the dumpster to look for her emerald necklace and then send me the picture every year to remind me I was nothing but trash.

“Because he’s out there ruining lives. According to Elyse, the girls in the sex parties are drugged out of their minds with GHB before they’re sexually assaulted. Are you going to walk away from this?”

No. I couldn’t.

I lifted my head and squared my shoulders, staring directly at Lucy. “How can I help?”

An hour later,I was driving toward Montauk with Lucy in my new Audi SUV. Dom accompanied me to a car dealership two weeks ago to pick my new ride, but today was the first time I took it out of the city. I spent a good ten minutes with the vehicle manual to figure out the gizmos. It was quite an upgrade from my rickety van.

A blacked-out Explorer was following us. Lucy’s security was now my security. I was surprised Dom hadn’t insisted on coming with us when he found out we were visiting Margo. Something was afoot. I was still reeling at how the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

We reached a gated mansion near a bluff. I didn’t see any guards, but the second my SUV was within sights of the gate, it opened, indicating we were expected and being watched.

I pulled right in front of the stone wall façade. The entrance was an understated wood slab and a woman, dressed in a stylish sage-colored pantsuit, was already waiting for us.

“Is that Margo?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lucy said.

“This looks like a house with an array of servants.” Or a butler to usher us in.

“From what I gathered, no one really lives here, not even during the summer. It’s just an investment property,” she explained.

Lucy and I exited the Audi and both of us stood beside it, not knowing what to do. Margo’s nose flared in distaste as she drank in our attire.

Lucy and I were similarly dressed in shorts, T-shirts, and sneakers. The weather app forecasted warm and breezy, so why not dress comfortably?

“Well, come on in,” she addressed us before looking at our bodyguards. “Not you.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” I told them. “Dom knows where we are.”

The lead bodyguard checked his phone. “Yeah, boss said it was okay.”

Margo pivoted in an elegant half circle to enter the house. Lucy and I followed more cautiously.

The mustiness of the place hit my nose and the cleaner inside me automatically shifted gears to the effort it would take to clean this place. But my brain had to remind myself I didn’t do that work anymore. The covered furniture and the accumulating dust on the shelves told me it would simply go back to what it was in a few years.

“So why do we need to be here?” Lucy asked when we stopped at the foyer.

“I didn’t ask for Sloane to be here,” Margo said. “All I said was she needed to agree to go to the gala.” Her gaze slid to me. “But it’s good to see you looking well, Miss Scott.”

When I agreed to go to the gala with Dom, I asked him if I should thank Margo for rescuing me from Grigori. Dom emphatically said no. The kind of “no” that made me read between the lines. And I was familiar with Margo’s type. She wasn’t on anyone’s side except what made sense to her bottom line and reputation.

I acknowledged her statement with a curt nod. When unsure on how to respond, say less. Dealing with Margo was no different from dealing with the mob.

She seemed amused at my lack of a courteous reply, but I also saw a flash of admiration.

“We could have negotiated over the phone,” Lucy said.

Margo leaned in. “Your enemies have ears everywhere.”

We didn’t have far to go. Her study was next to the foyer. She probably didn’t want her guests venturing too far into the house. I still didn’t understand why she chose this meeting place.

She pushed a folder toward Lucy. “Your hard copy if you want, but you have an email with a link to a secure server to sign.”