Nico’s chest rumbles against my back when he laughs. I tear out of the driveway and through the residential neighborhood, going as fast as I can. The normally twenty-minute ride is reduced to fifteen. I go around back to the employee parking lot and am surprised to see Harlow and Malachi outside talking to Coast, Fiona’s old man.
“This can’t be good,” Nico comments after I cut the engine.
“What the hell is going on?” I call out as we walk across the lot.
“See for yourself,” Harlow responds. She swipes her key card and opens the door so we can all step inside. “One of the Blackjack dealers found her when he came this way to head out for a smoke break.”
I stare at the dead woman on the floor. Her bright red lipstick is smeared, and her left eye is swollen shut. The black dress she was wearing is torn and bunched around her waist. If she was wearing panties or a bra, they’re missing.
“She one of yours?” I ask Malachi.
“No,” he responds.
“She’s one of ours,” Harlow adds. “Her name’s Tasha. I hired her on a trial basis last week while you were…” She sighs. “She started last week.”
“Was she a victim?” I ask, knowing that we permit our adult female victims to become escorts, if that’s the path they want to take. Surprisingly, some do because it’s all they know. We make it worthwhile for them and they become part of the family, so to speak.
Harlow shakes her head. “She came in looking for a job, but Devil’s isn’t hiring so I offered her this instead. She had a little boy with her, and it was pretty obvious she needed the money. After calling her sister to make sure she was willing to babysit while she worked, she accepted the job.”
“If she’s tied to DHMC, what’s she doing here?” Nico asks.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Coast pipes in.
I turn to face the cop. “And you’re here because…”
“I called him,” Malachi responds before Coast can. “The employee who found her kept insisting that the cops be called. Rather than risk him calling 911, I called Coast.”
“I took his statement, talked to him for a minute,” Coast says and shrugs. “Basically made him feel like he was heard and that this wouldn’t get swept under the rug. That seemed to satisfy him.”
“Does this fucker still have a job?” I ask, annoyed that Malachi gave in to some idiot who probably watches too many reruns of Law and Order.
Malachi smirks. “Gill escorted him off the property right before you got here.”
“Good.”
“I gotta run,” Coast says. “If you decide to call this in, let me know so I can request to be assigned to the case. Otherwise, I know nothing.”
“Thanks, man.” Harlow slaps him on the back. “Appreciate you coming so quickly.”
“Don’t thank me.” He chuckles. “Fiona’s the one who got shortchanged this morning when your call came in.”
Coast leaves us with the body. Nico crouches down next to her, and his eyes scan her beaten and bloody frame. He lifts her right arm, then her left, then straightens to his full height.
“You know this is Nicholi, right?” Nico says. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Who else would kill a DHMC escort and leave her on a Ricci doorstep, so to speak?”
“That’s our thought too,” Harlow agrees.
“This has to stop,” I snap. “We know he’s here, in Atlantic City, and we know he’s trying to get back in the skin trade. How the fuck do we stop him? Because I’m getting damn tired of him being five steps ahead of us.”
“We’re bringing this to Church. Pep, send a text letting everyone know to meet at the clubhouse in an hour. We’re not sitting on this one. It’s time to end this.”
“You’re not cutting us out of this,” Nico snarls.
Harlow steps up to Nico and stabs a finger at his chest. “Our escort, our problem.”
Nico puffs his chest out. Before he can get a word out, Malachi yanks him away from Harlow.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Square up to my woman like that again and I’m liable to forget I actually love your stupid ass.”