Page 10 of Gates of Tartarus

“The other night, you were speaking with a gentleman by the name of Anthony Bianchi…”

Her face twists in disgust. “Oh now. I don’t know that I’d call him a gentleman.” We exchange looks of perfect understanding, and I wait for her to continue. “He came in here all the time.”

I must look surprised at her willingness to acquiesce to questioning because she flashes an unrestrained grin at me, saying, “Oh, Kailani. I didn’t get to my position fighting the system. You guys drop by to ask me questions, or ask me for favors, and I comply. I don’t share my books of course, those are private. I wouldn’t be where I am if I outed my clientele. But if the fine men, and women for that matter, of Seattle need an ear or two on the ground, I’m happy to provide. And, in return, I’m left alone to comfort the needy of Seattle with impunity.”

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to drop a crumb or two of information regarding any of the agents or officers who come in here for your assistance, would you?” I ask, interest piqued.

“I wouldn’t,” she replies, still smiling. “But rest assured, if you’re here to shut me down or mess with my business in any way… well, I’d lay odds on my staying and you going, if you catch my drift.”

Her confidence is astounding and slightly unnerving. I wonder who the power players in the shadows behind her are.

“My going?” I ask curiously, and she laughs.

“Oh! Ha! Not like that. Just… we’ve had officers come in and try to strong-arm us or whatever. And they end up red-taped behind desks, or walking the beat.” Shrugging uncaringly, she continues: “I knowwhatI’m worth, and I knowwhoI’m worth something to. So if you have questions, I’ll answer what I can. As long as you’re not recording anything. It’s the agreement, and really in everyone’s best interests… you show your credentials, I answer your questions, and we co-exist in peaceful harmony.” Her voice is teasing and slightly sarcastic but has an iron core in it. She’s 100% serious.

“What agreement? And with who?” I can’t help but ask, and she waves a single, manicured finger in front of me.

“Uh-uh-uh!” she chides gently. “Don’t ask again!”

I nod, mouth twisted ruefully, and she grins.

“In any case,” she continues, “Bianchi. He’s in our black book... I guess I should say hewasin our black book. Too rough with the girls, and these were girls who specialized in rough play, you know? Marco–” she indicates a fairly young, quiet, unassuming man behind her, “had to break things up a couple of times. We’d let him off with a warning the first time, but after the second... I don’t make any of my girls go where they feel unsafe. They earn more when they’re happy and feel appreciated, which meansIearn more. We’re high-end escorts here, Kailani, to put it bluntly. We’re not ‘by the hour’ or ‘single act’ here. We get wined and dined, we get gifts… we’re very,veryappreciative to our friends who treat us well, and consequently, our friends treat usverywell. Bianchi wasn’t a friend.”

“Why were you talking to him that night?” I ask. “What were you discussing?”

She shrugs. “He was asking to go out again with one of our girls – Sammi. She’d turned him down a couple of times, then had to block him. He wasn’t supposed to be contacting our girls anyways. He was too drunk to warn off and have him remember it – we tried to talk it out, but once we realized how bad he was, the barkeep cut him off, and we left him to sleep it off in the corner. None of us realized he’d taken off when he did.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Do you know anything about this ‘shipment’ of his?” I ask, and her face tightens in anger immediately.

“Yeah, that guy was a piece of shit. He’d swept the streets with some of his guys, looking for the worst cases out there. Promised them food and clothing and a bed – that sort of crap – and most of them were bad enough off that they accepted. He rounded them up and was going to sell them off. Had the fucking balls to askmeif I wanted any ‘new inventory’.” She leans forward, meeting my eyes seriously. “I don’t operate like that, Kailani. My girls aren’t kept here – girls like that aren’t as effective in what we do, right? My girlswantto be here. The money they make... I turn girls downall the time. I’m selective.” She smirks a little. “We have friends in unexpected places, who are willing to pay for a very discreet, very,verysatisfying experience. The poor souls he was offering up... no. Just no. And he was so open and obvious about it. Made no effort to hide what he was doing. We can’t operate like that. It would sink us. He didn’t care who knew.”

Suddenly a wave of fear washes over her, though her expression barely flickers, and she lowers her voice slightly. “Not like…” Her eyes dart up to look at her guards, one of whom is suddenly much more interested in our conversation, and she forces her voice and face to remain steady. “Not like me,” she finishes, and he relaxes back. “My girls, I’d know if they disappeared. They’re not the sort who could just vanish, with no repercussions.”

I breathe out slowly, desperately trying to figure out what she was going to tell me. “What happened to the people he collected?” I ask, searching for the right questions.

She shrugs calmly. “I mean, sold off all over the place. Not just for prostitution, you know? For housekeeping, that sort of thing.”

So, not the right line of questioning. Figure it out, Kai.We stare at each other for a long moment, before I start again, slowly, scribbling absentmindedly on a napkin in front of me, my back blocking the view of the overly interested guard.

“So you can’t share your books, right?” I say, while writingAre you safe? I can help if you need iton the paper. She reads it, looks at me with a long, carefully considering look, and comes to some conclusion.

“Terrance,” she calls quietly, and the overly attentive guard, looking surprised, walks to the table, sitting beside us when she indicates the empty chair.

“Okay, Kailani,” she begins quietly, looking incredibly serious. “How off the record can we get? I need to knownothingcan be traced back to me before we talk. Nothing. This conversation didn’t happen.”

Terrance makes a sound of protest, and she turns the napkin to him. He reads it, looks at me with something close to exasperation, and sighs. “Do whatever you think right, Tally,” he says quietly.

I cock my head curiously, and she laughs a little. “Terry’s been my best friend since we were kids. And my name reallyisChantalle. My fucking parents. So he calls me Tally. Has forever. I don’t have a ton of information, and a lot of it’s hearsay. I’ll give it to you, provided it doesn’t come back to bite me.”

“Okay…” I say slowly. “And not that I don’t appreciate it, but what made you decide to help me?”

She points at the napkin, then at the guys around the room. “You offered to help me if I was in trouble, despite the fact that there are six, heavily armed, really large dudes here. And I’m pretty sure you meant it.”

I shrug a little uncomfortably. “Yeah. Well... yeah. I mean, I have him –”I look over my shoulder at Walker, who is currently sitting at the bar chatting unrestrainedly with a very,verypretty barmaid.

Chantalle grins. “Yeah, Tasey is keeping him occupied. I don’t know that he’d be able to help much. She has a heavy hand when pouring.”

Eying Walker, I note his slightly flushed face and loose smile with a frown, but when I reach out to do a quick sweep on him, his emotions are calm and steady. He glances over at me and gives me an easy grin, raising his cup up and sloshing it slightly over the edge as he toasts in my direction, but when I lock eyes with him, I can tell he’s playing his own game.