Chapter Ten
Recruiting the Truth
“Are you sure that Melissa’s okay?”
Cara cast August a sidelong look worriedly and he sighed.
“That’s why you’re here,” he told her, pointing back to the computer. “You need to trust me on this, Cara.”
She scoffed lightly but didn’t respond as she turned her attention back toward the screen. Not that August blamed her for her skepticism. Showing up on her doorstep a few hours earlier and instructing her to come along with him on “police business” was hardly a reason for Melissa’s roommate to have confidence in him.
But the universe intervened this morning. I was looking for a tech and Melissa’s roommate is in IT. She’s not a bear… I don’t think. She must care enough about Melissa if they live together. She won’t say anything… I hope.
It went against everything he knew to put so much faith in a stranger but Cara was August’s best hope at that moment.
“I’d feel a lot better if I knew why I was hacking into the phone company,” Cara muttered, but August got the sense that she was speaking more to herself than him.
“Cara, I’m Melissa’s boss,” he told her flatly. “I’m very worried about her. Today, she came to work to put in her resignation.”
Cara’s head whipped around and she gaped at him.
“WHAT?” she choked. “W-why?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
Abruptly, Cara pushed away from the table and folded her arms over her chest, scowling at him in dismay.
“Well, she came here last night, didn’t she? Obviously you did something to her!”
August shook his head. “She didn’t come here,” he insisted, looking toward his sister, who was conspicuously quiet for once in her life. “She was going to come but she texted me to say something came up and she never showed.”
Cara eyed him warily, the suspicion naked in her eyes.
“That’s why I asked you to look into her phone records,” August explained patiently even though he was losing his easy demeanor.
“Auggy, can you help me in the kitchen?” Amber asked, rising suddenly as if she sensed her brother’s propensity for losing it.
“You don’t need my help,” he muttered without looking at his sister, but he didn’t need to look up to feel her eyes boring into him.
“Now.”
He stifled a sigh and followed Amber into the kitchen where she instantly whirled and glared at him.
“Her roommate? You dragged her roommate into this?” Amber demanded. “Are you out of your mind?”
“You know you ask me that at least once a day, right?”
“Maybe because I’m genuinely getting alarmed for your sanity. What are you thinking, August? You don’t seem the least bit concerned that she might find out—”
“Keep your voice down,” August hissed, looking behind him. “She’s listening.”
“Brother, she’s going to find out a lot more than she bargained for when she starts digging.”
“What else can I do, Amber? If I dig at the station, it will trigger alarms all over the place.”
“Jesus, August, maybe you should just walk away from this!”
He blinked and gaped at her.
“She’s my rookie!” he snapped. “I can’t just walk away!”
“She’s more than that and you know it,” Amber sighed. “And I understand how you feel—”
“If you did, you wouldn’t be telling me to walk away,” he countered but Amber kept speaking as if she hadn’t been interrupted.
“But if Melissa doesn’t want to talk to you about what’s going on, there might be a very valid reason, Auggy. She might very well be hiding something from you that she doesn’t want you to know.”
“No,” he said flatly, refusing to believe that. “She’s scared of something.”
“Maybe she’s scared of being found out,” Amber insisted. “All I’m saying is that you might not like what you learn once you open Pandora’s box.”
“Thanks, Dr. Freud. Can I get back to Cara now?”
Amber grunted. “August, you might be our sleuth’s leader but I’m still older than you and I have more experience in the ways of women than you do. Particularly women like us.”
“Women like you?” Cara repeated from the doorway, her face contorted in anger. “What does that mean?”
August shot Amber a scathing look.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he replied, steering her out of the kitchen. “Cara, we need to keep digging.”
“Actually, I came to tell you that I’ve found something,” she muttered, gesturing toward the laptop. “I got her phone records from last night.”
“And?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I remember now that she got a text just as she was leaving but she dismissed it.”
“Who was it from?”
Cara looked down uncomfortably. “It really doesn’t make any sense,” she hemmed. “I mean, it’s not like they’re really friends or anything, and after what happened…”
She trailed off and August looked at the screen but the number he saw meant nothing to him in itself.
“Well?” he demanded, his patience expiring. “Who texted her?”
“Louis Wayland,” Cara breathed. “But I’m sure he has nothing to do with anything.”
“Louis…” August’s eyes widened in shock. “The club owner?”
Cara nodded miserably, keeping her gaze carefully averted.
“We go there once in a while,” she muttered evasively. “I’m sure he was just messaging her to thank her for getting him out safely on Monday—”
“I guess I’ll find out, won’t I,” August said firmly. “How many times did he text? And do you have records of what was said?”
“I’m working on that but he seems to have texted half a dozen times and then there was a call out to him two minutes after she left the apartment.”
A frisson of alarm pierced his heart.
“What time was that?”
“Uh… 7:32.”
August reached for his phone and scrolled through his messages, finding the one from Melissa from the previous night.
She texted me at 7:35. It has to have something to do with Louis Wayland.
“Where are you going?” Cara cried as he hurried out of the apartment. “You’re just leaving me here?”
“Keep looking into the phone records and don’t stop at last night. I want everything coming in from her cell and home today, too.”
“My home, you mean?” Cara asked sarcastically but August was already out the door and flying down the steps to his car.
I need to get to the bottom of this before Melissa does something she regrets.
He hoped he wasn’t already too late.
~ ~ ~
To August’s annoyance, Portia was locked up tight and there were no cars in the parking lot to indicate that either of the Waylands were holed up inside and merely ignoring him.
He hurried back to his car and radioed in.
“This is Detective Silas of the 22nd. I need a home address for Louis Wayland, owner of Portia Night Club on Milwaukee.”
“Badge number, Detective?”
August gave it and waited for dispatch to follow through with his request.
“I have an address in the Loop, Detective. Stand by.”
Dispatch recited the location and August was driving before she had finished.
In minutes, he found himself before a condo building across from Millennium Park.
This bastard better be home.
In seconds, he was parked and at the concierge, flashing his ID to the bored-looking man at the desk.
“I’m here to see Louis Wayland in suite 1706.”
“I’ll call up,” he intoned but August snickered.
“No need. I’m a surprise visitor.”
He moved toward the elevators, noting that the guard was reaching for the phone as he did, but August didn’t care.
If he’s dumb enough to run, I’ll catch up with him later at the club. And why would he run if he has nothing to hide?
The doors slid open and August moved inside, closing them with a jab of a button. He was the picture of impatience, despite the elevator’s motionless speed to the seventeenth floor.
As the doors parted again, August’s foot was in the hall and he was moving toward the condo.
To his surprise, the door was already open and Louis Wayland stood scowling at him in anger.
“What is this, Detective?”
“I have some questions for you, Louie,” August replied, shoving past him with massive shoulders. “Mind if I come in?”
He was already in the foyer of the too-modern condo, the area rank with steel and glass, accented by “art” that any three-year-old with proper use of his motor skills could have painted.
Money is always wasted on these types, August thought grimly. He thought of his own lavish-but-comfortable house in the suburbs.
“I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Louis grunted, stepping aside. “What’s this about?”
Louis closed the door and faced August with defiance.
“I already told you everything I know about Kenny.”
“I’m here about Melissa Stark.”
Acting was not one of Louis’ talents and his face paled to a near-opaque.
“I-I don’t know who that is,” he squeaked. August could see his face shift through a half dozen expressions before settling on a forced aloofness.
“Really?” August asked, anger rising inside him. “Because not only was she the officer responsible for saving your ass, you two have been very chatty, according to your cell phone communications.”
Louis swooned and for a disgusted moment, August thought the slight man might pass out.
“What did you talk to her about?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Louis wailed. “I swear! It wasn’t even my idea!”
“What the hell did you do?” The looming cop’s voice was barely a rasp and fear clearly showed on Louis’ face.
“Whatever she said, it was obviously a misunderstanding!”
August ambled closer to him, their faces inches apart, and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Do you see my face right now, Louie? Do I look like I want to hear excuses or information?”
“I-I-oh God, what are you going to do to me?”
August was at a crossroads. He knew nothing except that Louis was the key to whatever had happened with Melissa but the weasel didn’t know that.
I need to get him to talk without him knowing I don’t have shit.
“I’m bringing you in,” August said, yanking on his arm and hustling him toward the door. He hoped the bluff would work but to his annoyance, Louis wrenched his arm back and he peered at August with distrusting eyes.
“Just you?” he asked slowly. “Where’s the rest of your team?”
Dammit. What is this idiot into?
“This is a nice building, Louie. We don’t like to upset the rich by reminding them that they live among scum. I have cars downstairs and more at your club.”
The shock on Louis’ face told August he had struck gold.
“I can’t believe that bitch ratted me out!” he howled. “I am going to—”
“You’re going to what, Louis? I know you’re not about to threaten a member of the police department.”
“What will it take to get you off my ass, Detective? None of it was my doing! It was Andrew! He got greedy and started the side business! I didn’t want any part of it!”
Note to self: find out what these two clowns are doing at Portia.
“Did you tell Melissa that?” August asked quietly. “Or did you threaten her?”
“It’s not my fault she was stupid enough to fall for it,” Louis grumbled. He didn’t see the fist before it hit his jaw and August was on top of him, glowering with intense, furious eyes.
“The only stupid one I see is you, Wayland,” August hissed in his ear. “Where is Melissa?”
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” he whined. “How the hell would I know? She’s supposed to be reporting to us tonight. I’m guessing she’s on patrol.”
A wave of cold washed over August.
Reporting to him?
Suddenly, he understood.
“Let me up!” Louis cried, struggling against the hold in which August had him.
“No.”
Louis’ arm twisted more against his back and the bar owner howled in pain.
“I told you, it wasn’t my idea!” he pleaded. “I didn’t do anything.”
“What did you have on her? What did you blackmail her with?”
“Nothing!” he squealed but August’s grip was like a vice. Claws were beginning to elongate from his knuckles and August was struggling not to shift in his rage.
“Tell me or I swear, Louis, you’re going to wish you were dead.”
“Sex tapes!” he shrieked. “I told her I had sex tapes of her and my brother together.”
Sickness lurched in August’s gut but he didn’t loosen his stronghold.
“Where are the tapes?”
“T-they… ah! You’re really hurting me!”
“I promise,” August rasped, his eyeteeth protruding, “you don’t know what pain is yet.”
There was no stopping the shift now and his mortal form melded away to produce a massive beast of brown and grey, crushing the slimy Wayland brother to the marble floor of the entranceway.
“W-w-wha…” Panic and terror lit Louis’ eyes as he tried to make sense of the snarling animal above him. “W-wha…?”
“The tapes,” August hissed. “Get me the tapes.”