The Blue Room Vol. 2: The Blue Room Series by Kailin Gow Page A

Rita, smiling, dangling the locket in front of me.
                Don't
thank me. Thank Mr. X...
                Was
that Rita's Mr. X, with his head between Roz's legs? With his tongue upon her
clit? Making her moan? Driving her wild?
                “Does
Roz have any family?” I ask.
                Terrence
shakes his head. “Some distant cousins on the East Coast,” he says, “In New
York. Nobody here.”
                I
guess a lot of people with families don't end up in this business. Just a
hunch.
                I
shudder; Terrence holds me tighter.
                “Has
this – happened before?” I ask.
                In
the back of my mind: Rita's voice. Don't thank me. Thank Mr. X.
                “We've
never had a suicide,” says Terrence. “Never before. It's atypical of the Blue
Room – I guarantee...”
                My
mind goes still.
                Then
what happened to Rita?

 
    Chapter 1
     
     
                I 'm still crying in the shower, bawling my eyes
out, when at last Terrence turns off the water. “Staci,” his voice is so soft.
“I'm sorry, but I have to sort this out, now. Before anybody finds her. Will
you be OK, getting dressed?”
                I
nod slowly – still dazed.
                “There's
a bunch of nightgowns in your closet. Can you go put one on?”
                I
feel so light-headed, floating through the room. I feel like my feet aren't
even touching the ground. I feel crazy, wild. My mind is a white room.
                “What
about the police?” I pull the nightgown over my head. “Shouldn't we call the
police?”
                But
Terrence is already on his cell phone, calling.
                “We
have our own procedures,” he said. “Internal procedures.”
                “But
the police?”
                He
looks at me in surprise. “Why would the police come?” he said. “The guests at
the Blue Room pay a high price to avoid any scandal. Bringing the police into
this would be an unnecessary complication. Hello, Arnold?”
                He
goes out into the balcony to make the call, closing the door behind him so I
can't hear.
                I'm
sickened by how cold, how businesslike he's become, all of a sudden. The same
kind, sweet boy who was comforting me a moment ago is now a pimp, dealing with
a dead hooker.
                Whatever
he's saying on that phone call, I have to know.
                Whatever
Roz knew, whatever Mr. X knew, whoever Mr. X is , I have to know. It
might be my one shot at finding out what happened to Rita. It might be my one
shot at finding out even if she's still alive.
                I
think of Roz's face, blown half away, and that tiny fraction of hope that
Rita's anything but dead gets even smaller.
                I
tiptoe into the bathroom and crack open the tiny smoking window, climbing onto
the toilet to get a better view. If I strain my ears I can hear what Terrence
is saying.
                “Hi,
Arnold? I need you at the towers, right away. Room 328. It's happened again.”
                Again?
                “No
– he's fine.”
                No
name – blast!
                “Nothing happened to him. His reputation will be intact – but
the girl...she's gone. God rest her soul.” His voice shakes only a little bit.
“You know what to do.”
                I'm
in shock.
                So,
this is the real Terrence Blue, I think. Pimp. Covering up deaths. Hiding from
the police. The whole seedy operation revealed to me at last. The dirty reality
underpinning the fantasy. I want to throw up.
                And
here I am – thinking he had real feelings for me? Thinking he might have felt
about