Page 109 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

I straighten. “Hair?”

She shrugs. “I doubt he wants to clone you.”

“That’s not what he wants,” I say darkly.

“The hair and more details on where you’ve been—those were supposed to be my final assignments. He said he’s watching your restaurant, or at least he has somebody watching it. He plans to text me the next time you’re there, and I’m supposed to show up like I need to see you again. Did you know people were watching your restaurant?”

“I’ve always assumed.”

She swishes her hand through the water. I’m glad to see her using her injured arm—it’ll heal up fine. But it should never have happened.

“Okay, so don’t laugh, but I have a plan.”

“A plan, huh?”

She tells me this plan she’s concocted where she goes to the restaurant, I invite her to sit with me, and we pretend to dine together. Then I pretend to get mad at her, and I make Orton throw her out with a warning to never come back again. Then she feeds Bender a fake story involving a military school in Montenegro to explain where I’ve been all these years.

“Montenegro? Why Montenegro?”

She shrugs. “It seemed believable?”

“Standard-issue criminal place to send a kid to military school?”

She splashes me. “Do you want to hear the rest of my plan or not?”

“Go on.”

“I don’t think he ever really expected me to ask about your brother, so we’re clear on that. And I’ll bring a hair, but not yours. We find a different one with the same hair color. What do you think?”

“Bad plan.”

“What? I think it’s great. He won’t know if the hair is yours. He won’t know if the story is real. He has no way to verify any of it.”

“And then what incentive does he have to help you reunite with your sister? Once you’ve given him everything he supposedly wants? Assuming he doesn’t see through it.”

“I would’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain and...” She trails off here as she realizes the man has zero reason to help her. “Oh.”

“We don’t know if he has her. We don’t know if he knows where she is or even if she’s alive. That’s job number one.”

“But he had a recent picture of her!”

“I could show you a recent picture of Scarlett Johansson. It doesn’t mean I have her stashed away somewhere or that I could get to her. A recent picture doesn’t even prove she’s alive. And how do you know how recent the picture actually is? Even if he really did have her or has some control over her, what use is she?”

“Y-you think he’s probably killed her by now?” The horror in her eyes is a blade in my gut.

“No, I don’t specifically think anything,” I say, but the damage is done.

“She could be dead either way, that’s what you think!”

“No, princess,” I grate out, regret surging through my veins.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t say it. You think it could be true.” She lies there in the tub, blinking back the tears.

“I’ll do everything I can to find her.” This is all I have for her. I wish I had more, but I won’t lie.

She gazes miserably at the skylight. “You think she’s probably dead.”

“Neither of us knows. You don’t know anything, and I don’t know anything.” All this, I say with too much vitriol.

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