Page 95 of Stalker

My mouth suddenly went dry and when I reached for my glass of wine, I almost knocked it over.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine. Just fine.” It was time to delete all traces I’d ever signed on to Sugar Babies.

“It’s really pushing my skill level. But I admit, it’s kind of juicy. Mr. Monahan also threw out that the man who attacked and held him hostage was none other than Wilder Blackwell. Interesting, huh? The city’s latest hero.”

Oh, dear God. I tried to laugh it off, but my gut told me Mr. Monahan was lucky to still be alive. “Yeah, crazy. Somehow, I doubt someone of Mr. Blackwell’s prestige and reputation would bother with a slug like Drew Monahan.”

“That’s what the detective thinks too. I don’t know. It’s all crazy but it’ll sell newspapers. I thought you were leery of the guy.”

I shrugged. “He’s not so bad. Just misunderstood.”

“That means your date went well.”

“Hush!”

He grinned. “How about your case? You said you needed some help.”

All I could think about was the fact Wilder was somehow making up for the fact he couldn’t save the girl he refused to tell me about. How the hell could I find out what happened since he’d refused to talk to me?

My mind drifted to the incredible night we’d shared followed by his dismissal of me. It had been poignant, but it hurt. It hurt like hell. My God, I should be afraid of him, but I missed him.

I craved him.

There had to be something very wrong with me.

Swallowing, I did what I could to regroup. “Um. Yeah, the Blackwell case is proving to be difficult to sort through. They were orphans and something tells me all these rumors about them are based on what they went through in foster care.”

“You mean about their love of all things dark and disturbing?” He had a gleam in his eye.

“Something like that.” I was growing more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Maybe Wilder Blackwell is like some hero in dark clothing. That would add a cool element to the story.”

“That’s a little grim, my darling Cash.” I was trying to be lighthearted, but my mind was swimming around various possibilities. Still, what I’d heard didn’t mean Wilder had done anything but provide justice for the poor dead girls.

“Why are you wrestling with the foster issue?”

“I don’t know. It just feels like if I knew what happened to them then I could find a missing piece of this complicated puzzle. But so far, I don’t see any improprieties and there’s no confirmation the Obsidian Society is anything but a method of obtaining employees. I know about your friend, but I think he embellished the story a little.”

He chuckled. “Maybe. Braxton certainly didn’t like anyone telling him he wasn’t good enough. If you’re so intent on finding answers about the past, why not go to the source?”

“Meaning what? There’s nothing in the records. They were sealed and I think it’s because their father was put in prison.”

“He was?”

“For murdering their mother and other girls too.”

“Whew, girl. You could be opening up old wounds. That’s just crazy, but maybe your buddy Wilder is trying to make up for what his father did.”

“Maybe.” I picked at my salad, finally pushing it away. “So what did you mean about going to the source?”

“Meaning the records might have been sealed, but there were people involved. Granted, given the age of the three men, the foster workers might have retired, but if so, they’d not bound by some moral code not to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but they could get into some kind of trouble.”

Cash shrugged. “Some people need to get the darkness off their chests. You know, like all the dirty little secrets they keep locked away?”

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