As the Wicked Watch(97)

Louise sat straight up in her chair. “Jordan, that’s a big question. Do I know anything about them?” She faked a laugh. “I know something about everybody. You do know who I am.”

Her transition from near fragility to hubris was remarkable.

“And that’s exactly why I’m here. What do you know about Terrence?”

“Terry? I’ve heard of him, but I don’t really know him. He’s friends with my nephew.”

Nephew? Could it be?

“Is your nephew Brent Carter?”

Hearing the name, Louise shifted from defiance to confusion. “How do you know Brent?” she asked.

“I don’t know him. I just know that he and Terrence are roommates. I’ve been able to uncover some very disturbing things about Terrence. We’ve tracked him from New Mexico to Chicago. I believe he was having an inappropriate relationship with Masey. I need answers about him, and I suspect police will, too, very soon.

“So,” I said, ready to lower the boom, “what has Brent told you about him?”

Louise sneered, looking agitated. “I don’t know what you want.”

“Do you really want to look like you are hiding or protecting these guys?” I asked. “Louise, you told me about the legend of Red Moley. They come in twos. You had no reason to tell me that story, and now I think I know why you did.”

Louise rested her mouth against her hand like Rodin’s The Thinker, shaking her head vigorously. “Uh-uh, Jordan, I don’t know what kind of cop routine you’re pulling here,” Louise said. “But I’m not new to this. If you’re asking me if I know anything about Masey’s relationship with Terrence or Brent, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what I need to know,” I said, leaning back on the sofa and folding my arms.

Louise was silenced by my directness, which was surprising. This was a woman who didn’t understand what it meant to be quiet.

“Okay, fine. You don’t know Terrence.” I shrugged. “But you do know Brent, your nephew.”

“He’s always been a good kid. I’ve known him his whole life.”

“Well, of course you have—he’s your nephew,” I said.

“I said he’s like my nephew. He’s not actually related to me. But he’s family. I was very close with his mother. She was like a sister to me. She died when he was just a baby. He was only eight. I don’t know what else you want to know about him.”

“I want to know everything you can tell me about him as an adult, not a kid. How often do you see him?”

“He comes by occasionally to check in on me to see what’s going on,” she said, her speech growing more measured.

“What’s his relationship like with Terrence?”

Louise shot me a look, then tried to pivot. “Like I said, I don’t know Terrence, but what I do know about him, I don’t like.”

Is she throwing Terrence under the bus?

“I’ve heard about New Mexico, and I’ve heard stories here, too, but I don’t know anything about him and Masey. And just so you know, yes, I brought it up to Brent, and he said there are a bunch of haters and gossips out here who are jealous of him because he’s making moves.”

“What kind of moves?” I asked.

“They’re building this entertainment company,” Louise said.

“They?” I asked.

“They’re in business together,” Louise said. “Signing people to music deals, modeling contracts. Managing acts. Helping people get from Chicago to L.A. They’re doing well. They even have an office in Uptown.”

They’re doing well? If Louise knows enough about their business to know they’re doing well, then she knows something else, too.

Louise was now a fish on a hook, and I didn’t need her to wiggle off. I needed her to stay right where I had her and to keep talking. So I worded my next question carefully.

“Louise, like you said, you hear and know everything. So does that mean you knew young girls have been going into that Uptown office?”

Her eyes glowed red. “What are you trying to say?”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. You’re not stupid, Louise. You know exactly why they have those girls going in and out of there. Name me one star they’ve made. Name me one person they’ve taken to Hollywood. No. They are luring girls like Masey there. And you know it.”

Her mouth tightened and she stood up and pointed toward the door. “Get out of my house.”

“Why are you protecting them?” I asked pointedly. “Because you’re not doing a good job of it right now.”

“I said get out of my house!” she yelled.

Louise’s screeching rebuke must have been louder than the video game, because Marcus flew out of a room down the hall. “Grandma, are you okay?”

“You told me that Red Moley story, Louise, because there’s got to be some part of you that feels guilty,” I said.

If there’s an ounce of decency in you.

“Jordan, you need to leave,” Louise said through gritted teeth.

Marcus looked confused. “Grandma, what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Louise said, glancing over at Marcus. “Jordan, get out! Right now!”