Page 48 of Deadly Ruck
Skinner frowned. "Was what?" He clearly had no idea what I was referring to.
Good, they kept it suppressed as I'd hoped.
As if I was becoming bored with the conversation, I looked down at my nails. I really did need to make an appointment to have them done. Maybe change the colour. A nice pink next time.
"Carlos Jones was involved in a variety of things, as you know," I said. "He's now dead." I glanced up to watch that sink in. "He was killed yesterday morning."
Skinner frowned. "Bullshit. I was contacted by him an hour ago."
"Him, or the head of the Crimson Vipers?" I asked. "Because they're under new management right now. I understand they're undergoing quite the overhaul. What did they want you to do?"
"They—" he started before catching himself. "How do I know anything you're telling me is true? You could be in here stirring up trouble because you're bitter about being fired. Did you think people wouldn't find out you were a whore? It looks to me like you were putting out for the wrong people. I'm sure Dominic would have kept you on if you offered to suck him off."
He looked very pleased with himself for figuring out what he assumed was the actual reason for my visit. He was so far out I almost laughed in his face.
I snorted. "Are you about to suggest I offer you a blowjob in return for putting in a good word for me, so I can get my jobback?" I made sure to inject as much sarcasm into my words as possible. I didn't want him to think I was actually offering.
"I wouldn't put it past someone like you," he said derisively.
"What do you mean ‘someone like me?’" I asked. "A woman? Of course that's what you mean. Men like you always assume there's only one way for a woman to get ahead in life. With her body. You can't fathom the idea that I was at the top of my class by using my brains."
He rolled his eyes, clearly believing exactly what I accused him of. No wonder he and Jones got along.
"Tell me something, what did Jones offer you?" I asked. "Access to as many women as you could want? With or without their consent?"
He twitched. "Don't be ridiculous. That would be… illegal."
I barked a laugh. "Now you care about things being legal. You didn't flinch when Max Stanley was murdered. Or Bruce Fergus. I'm sure you won't lose any sleep over Carlos Jones either." I took a couple of steps closer. "What did he offer you?"
He backed up a step. "Power. Money." After a moment, and with some reluctance, he added, "Women."
I nodded slowly as though absorbing all of this. As if I didn't already understand everything.
"Where did those women come from?" I asked.
"I don't know." He wouldn't meet my gaze now. "He held parties. I put in my order and he delivered. Petite, blonde. Long hair. Always long hair."
"I'm relieved to know I'm not your type," I said dryly.
My stomach turned at the very idea that he could put in a request for a particular type of woman, as though he was ordering a pizza with all the right toppings. And Jones would send his people out to find them if they didn't already have them in stock. I wasn't naïve enough to think it didn't happen,especially with powerful men around the world, but hearing about it directly? That was another thing entirely.
"I prefer a woman who knows her place," he said, now looking at me like he was repulsed in some way.
I won't lie, the feeling was completely mutual. Correction, repulsive wasn't a strong enough word to describe him and the people he associated with. Evil might fit better.
"Did King take part in these parties? Who else was there? If you give me some names, I'll make sure my connections go easy on you. After all, you've proven to be resourceful. You might be useful to the people I work with."
He saw the bait and took it like a lifeline. "King was very much present. He has a preference for women who look like you. Dark hair and an attitude. He liked to remind them he was in charge."
I fucking bet he did. If he wasn't already on my shit list, he was now. There was a world of difference between being dominant in the bedroom, and in a relationship, and being dominant without consent. I didn't need Skinner to paint me a picture. The one in my mind was bad enough.
"Who else was present?" I might as well try to catch as many fish as I could.
"Carlos Jones," Skinner said. He rattled off a bunch of other names, most of which I recognised from around Dusk Bay and around the country. Several politicians, a couple of businessmen, some high profile actors. Some I was surprised by, others not.
I nodded when he finished the list and leaned forward to speak into my microphone, to make it clear everything we said was overheard.
"Did you get all of that?" I asked.
