I raise my chin, acknowledging the point. “But if he’s not paying models, he could double his return?”
“Yeah. I doubt he’d get away with doing it all the time, but perhaps often enough.”
Even half the time would make it a tidy little income.
“There’s worse,” Token adds, his brow creasing. “We know Devon Starr isn’t his real name, or any derivative of it.” I nod, knowing that full well. “So,” Token continues, “I did some digging into the images which carried his website watermark. I came up with something, a photo that I think got into the wrong file, but it led me to some other images.”
Now he turns the monitor around to face me. I stare at them for a moment. After I’ve taken in the subject matter, I say, “Fuck.”
“Still could be totally innocent. I mean, you get images like this in Playboy. Every young kid’s spank bank fodder.”
I think I should warn Mary to keep Alicia well away from Devon Starr were he to surface and ask her daughter to model again. She’d be distraught were her daughter be pressured into modelling with no clothes, and in darn near indecent positions.
“For these pics, he goes by the name of Ad Wilson.”
“Why use a different name if he’s building a legit business?”
“Could be nothing,” Token admits. “Or could be a way to scam more models.”
I tap my hand against his desk for a moment. “Any recent activity on his Starring Roles site?”
“Yes. New photos uploaded yesterday.” He turns the monitor back, and taps at some keys, then, again, it’s facing me.
Like on his main website, there are hundreds of pictures of my bike, well, in its supporting role of course. I note Alicia’s beaming smile, and also the way she’s looking at Owen. Christ, either that girl’s an actor, or she genuinely thinks the sun shines out of his ass. A little warning bell rings. If she truthfully has feelings for him, she won’t like that we’re trying to draw him out. But she doesn’t know. She thinks Dusty’s sudden yearning to become a model is genuine.
“He’s selling photos under both names?”
“I suspect he wants some legit ones to draw people in. I’ll keep digging,” Token tells me. “I’ve got feelers out for both of his identities on the dark web.” He puts his hand to his forehead and raps on it. “Got a bad feeling about this, Grumbler. But fuck it, I don’t know why.”
“You think it goes deeper than scamming his models?”
“When there’s a bad smell, there’s usually something rotting.”
I lift my chin. Maybe it’s because in our life we’ve grown to be suspicious, but I tend to agree.
It’s obvious Token’s got nothing more for me now. “You get your shovel working,” I tell him as I stand. “Meanwhile, I’ve got to go fix a car.”
He grimaces, knowing I much prefer working with bikes, but I’ll do what I need to.
“Hey, you going on the ride this weekend?”
That’s an easy one to answer. “That I am. I’m looking forward to it.”
Setting off for our auto-shop, I put a good day’s work in, replacing a clutch, then doing a full service. It’s par for the course, and the next few days continue in the same pattern as I’ve become used to.
During the day, I work. In the evenings I have a drink, play cards or pool, or just shoot the shit with the brothers. The only change is that I keep looking at my phone, seeing if I’ve missed a call from Mary. I tell myself, I only want to know if our plan has worked. That she’s not called means Alicia’s not contacted Owen as yet.
I’d told her to call me if things got tough with her daughter. Yeah, as if I’m anyone who can give kid-raising advice. All I know is that I once was one and probably behaved a hundred times worse.
Why should a woman like Mary want to discuss her daughter with me? Or maybe, things are going well, and Alicia is behaving.
Friday’s church is the normal affair with other business mostly confined to discussions about and final arrangements being made for our beach ride out the next day. We end on a high note with brothers upbeat and assing around about the things they’ll be getting up to, earning a reprimand from the prez, reminding us we’ll be on a public beach. Yeah, like Devils would worry about that.
I leave the meeting with a grin on my face and collect my phone from the box. After getting a drink, I nod when I’m invited into a game. I’m staring at the cards I’m holding, trying not to frown at the hand I’ve been dealt and wondering what call to make, when my phone vibrates.
Taking it out of my pocket, I answer, “Grumbler here.”
“It’s Mary.”
“Hi, doll. How you doing?” Raising my arm, I signal Pennywise to cover my hand, then I stand and walk to the door of the clubroom. “Hold on, I’m just going somewhere I can hear myself think.”
“Is there a party?”
“Yeah. I was in a card game.”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“Don’t apologise. I was losing.” I chuckle to let her know I really don’t mind. “How’s your week been?”
“Surprisingly good. Alicia’s been doing her schoolwork without being told. Of course, it’s all because she wanted to stay at her friend’s tonight.”
“And did she get her way?”
I imagine her rolling her eyes. “Of course.”
“You check this friend out?”
“I don’t have to. It’s Marisa. They’ve been friends for years. It’s quite usual for her to be here, or Alicia at hers. I often joke she’s my second daughter.”
She’s alone. Does she want company? What am I thinking? Fit woman like her is probably not lacking friends of her own. It doesn’t stop me asking, “So what are you up to with time on your hands?”
“I’m just about to put a movie on, oh, and I’ll open a bottle of wine.”
A car pulls up, and out steps three giggling
