Gary eyed him a moment then sighed. “I’m being followed too. But they didn’t come inside. I had a meeting with the owner, but that was just a ruse.”
“I thought your old friend might be willing to help you out. Another reason I chose this place. Come on.”
He heard Gary grumbling behind him as they climbed the last flight and exited onto the roof.
“As you are meeting me in secret, I take it you have verified my information.”
“I have.”
“Good then we—”
“Hold your horses. I think you have the wrong end of the stick.” Gary folded his arms.
Jay let out a long breath and motioned for Gary to say his piece.
“I verified everything and know that you are right, that Lloyd is using me as cover for something. I dug a little bit into the police and found your claims there to be true too.”
“Then let’s not waste more of Stella’s time, Gary. Whatever our past, you and I need to work together now.”
Gary shook his head, “By my estimation, Stella is more than likely dead. If I provide that to Mr. Haraby, he won’t fight my judgment. I have no reason to stay and save you.”
Jay had managed to keep his face smooth at the statement that Stella was dead, his emotions still tightly locked behind the cold mantle he needed.
“Except that you do,” he countered, meeting Gary’s eyes with just a hint of his usual smirk on his lips. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. You would have just left for Mr. Haraby, closing this case and fleeing Lloyd. You’ve stayed because you want something from me which you believe I will give in exchange for your help.”
Gary let out a rueful laugh. “You always were a smart ass. Doesn’t help that you’re never wrong either.”
“So what do you want?”
“Two things. One, you will serve under me, with no one knowing, for three years. All your triumphs will be mine alone.”
Jay almost laughed aloud. “I see. You want to use me to build back the reputation I destroyed.”
“Exactly. Two, after that, you will leave my hunting grounds for good. If ever you get a client that I am after, you’ll leave them to me. Deal?”
Jay let out a sigh, but his hard gaze never wavered. “You’ll follow my orders to the letter until this case is over, and Stella is recovered?”
“I will. I might hate you, but I’m not Mr. Haraby. I know exactly how good you are.”
“Then I believe we have a deal, Mr. Peters.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Stella awoke with a start. For a moment she could see nothing but the remnants of the nightmare images that had plagued her for so long. She blinked furiously as if the action could dispel the horror of Miranda’s last moments and the torture she had suffered.
The space she was in slowly came into focus, and Stella felt a renewed wave of fear. She wasn’t in the cell she had been kept in for so long now. Instead, she was in a far larger room, though still one with no windows or visible door. She shifted and realized that she couldn’t move more than a few centimeters in any direction. Her chains fed into holes in the floor at the corners of the thin mattress she had been placed on. She was also now naked with the only covering a neat cast around the wrist the man had broken.
Her breath began to come in short, sharp gasps, the oxygen they carried seeming too thin to sustain consciousness as her vision began to swim once more.
“Finally, the stoic Stella Haraby has a decent panic attack,” muttered a female voice from the corner just behind Stella’s head.
Stella arched her back as much as she could to allow herself an upside down view of the woman.
“Why don’t you just kill me? What do you two want?” Stella half sobbed, half screamed.
The woman huffed and pushed herself off the wall. “Not you. You, like Miranda, are just a pawn.” She pulled a needle from her pouch and stuck it into Stella’s arm. “It’s a sedative. Don’t worry. When you wake up, you won’t be alone anymore.”
Stella fought the pull of the drug with all her might, then eventually gave in. She knew she had been moments from losing herself. She would accept the enforced calm and hope to wake with a clearer head.
***
“…you sure they should be together?” an unfamiliar male voice penetrated Stella’s foggy mind.
She felt her fear rise along with her wakening brain, but remained still on the mattress as the woman answered.
“Those were the orders. He also wants you to watch that Gary closely.”
There was an annoyed, bitter laugh. “That little bast—”
“Go. I’ll chain this one up.”
Footsteps shuffled out, taking the lingering stench of tobacco with them. Stella opened her eyes a fraction at the sounds of rattling chains. She turned her focus on the woman, opening her eyes the rest of the way as she saw that she had her back to her.
The woman wasn’t wearing her face covering, and a long braid of brown hair fell to her waist. She moved, and Stella’s breathing caught in her throat. The woman on the mattress looked like she had already been through hell, but, more importantly, Stella recognized her. Bridgette Carmichael.
The other woman had glanced back, but Stella looked at her too late to catch more than the corner of a smirk as she finished locking the new prisoner in.
“Fair warning,” she mentioned. “These chains will allow you both use of the toilet at separate times of the day. If either of you cross the line between your mattresses at that time, an electric current will be
