going to treat you. But force them to pony up a couple grand, they’re already convinced you’re the most beautiful girl they’ve ever seen. They truly believe you have secret skills to rock their tedious worlds. When Prestige Parties is over and done with, all you’ll have to do is look the next guy in the eye and tell him what it costs, and that’s what you’re going to get.”
Jasmine took another sip of her soda. “Damn fucking straight I’m worth it. A thousand bucks a night isn’t even that much in the city. I’ve heard of girls who make as much as ten.” Her eyes gleamed at the thought.
“Now tell us again about the women who book the dates.”
The truth was, despite Ellie’s assurances that Jasmine would find some way to make the money up, she honestly didn’t care. Persuading Jasmine to cooperate was a necessary step to bringing down Prestige Parties, which was a necessary step to finding Katie Battle’s murderer. If Jasmine wound up broke and desperate again, it wouldn’t be because of Ellie.
It took Jasmine another hour to tell them everything she knew. Uncle Dave. The two sisters, Corliss and Cadence. Six dates in the last three and a half months, all involving sex for money. And now she was in the district attorney’s fifteenth-floor conference room, eating a package of Hostess Cupcakes from yet another trip to the vending machine, while they conferred in the hallway.
“It’s still not enough,” Max announced.
“How is that possible?” Ellie asked. “That girl, despite all the old drugs and recent refined sugar flowing through her veins, has one of the best memories I’ve come across in a witness. She’s willing to let us use her name. She’s got no criminal history and no apparent motive to lie. Her word, plus what we already got from Stacy Schecter, has to be enough.”
“It’s the same problem you always have with these agencies. The entire purpose of an escort service is to look legit. She knows this guy as Uncle Dave, which is about as creepy a name as I can think of for a pimp. But on paper, according to the AG’s office, he’s David Taylor, the CEO and sole shareholder of a legitimate corporation that provides legal and luxurious entertainment. They dot their
“No, but they are guilty of promoting prostitution in the third degree. We get the arrest warrant, hook them up on the felony charge, seize all their assets, and then use the money and the criminal case against them to get some answers about Katie Battle and Tanya Abbott.”
“The problem is they’ve covered their asses. You heard Jasmine. They told her not to engage in sex with the client. They even had her sign a piece of paper acknowledging that any sexual contact with the client was automatic grounds for dismissal.”
“And she also said she knew when she signed that document that it was just for show. When Corliss first approached her at Vibrations, she even asked her if she ever dated.”
“You and I know that
“We don’t need a conviction. I just want the leverage. I want some answers.”
They heard the creak of the conference room door. Like most of the doors in any building with a Centre Street address, it could use some WD-40.
“Um, is everything okay?”
“Just fine, Jasmine. If you can wait a few more minutes, we can explain what we’re going to do next.”
“It sounds like you guys are fighting.” Jasmine looked at her with the worried eyes of a child, and Ellie realized that some part of Jasmine’s personality would always be frozen in adolescence, suspended in time at that first knock on her bedroom door, the knock that had finally led to the police report when she was thirteen years old.
Ellie assured her once more and waited for the conference room door to close before speaking again in a quieter voice.
“Let’s take it to Judge Bandon. He’ll do anything for us right now. He’ll sign the warrant.”
Max shook his head. “That’s not right, Ellie, and you know it. We need more evidence.”
This wasn’t the first time Ellie had butted heads with a prosecutor. Prosecutors were always worried about trying their cases before a jury, having every thread of every last detail knotted and tucked away to create a smooth, impenetrable layer of proof. Police needed enough evidence to know in their gut they had the right guy.
Usually, though, when Ellie didn’t see eye to eye with a prosecutor, the prosecutor wasn’t a man who shared her bed a couple times a week. That tiny little distinction had Ellie on better behavior than she otherwise might have been.
But she still wanted her answers.
“I’m sorry, Max, but I’ll go to Bandon for the warrant myself if you don’t have some other suggestion.”
Max swallowed and shook his head. She held his stare defiantly but felt one corner of her mouth move upward.
“Damn, you’re sexy,” he said.
“I’m also right. We can’t be this close and just stop.”
He stepped toward her. She felt his breath whisper across her forehead. “You know I never stop when we’re close. I just might need to take a little detour.”
His body was so close to her now that she felt his hand move near his hip. She closed her eyes. Just when she thought he was reaching for her, she heard the creak of a door, followed by Max’s voice from the threshold of the conference room.
“Jasmine, sweetheart, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for one more thing.”
Ellie pushed past him through the doorway. “You’re a tease.”
“You said you wanted a suggestion.”
The phone rang three times before a woman answered in a professional tone. “Prestige.”
“Hi, is this Corliss?”
“I’m sorry. Who’s speaking, please?”
Ellie gave an encouraging nod to Jasmine, who was clutching the handset of the conference room telephone so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Ellie listened to the conversation through a headset plugged into a digital recorder, which was in turn attached to the base of the phone.
“It’s Jasmine Harris.”
“Oh, hey there, Jasmine.” The woman’s businesslike demeanor melted into the voice of a girlfriend. “We haven’t forgotten aboutcha. I’ll give ya a call as soon as we’ve got some work for ya.”
“It’s actually that, well, I guess I have work. Or at least a chance to work. One of my dates from last month saw me at Vibrations last night and wants an appointment for tomorrow. Guess his wife is visiting her sister or something.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten any calls asking for you, babe. Sorry.”
“No, I mean, he’s just planning to come by the club tomorrow to meet me. I wasn’t thinking about it last night, but then it dawned on me that might not be cool with you guys. I don’t want to mess up what I’ve got going with you just for one trick, you know?”
“You mean an appointment, Jasmine.”
“Right, an appointment. Sorry.”
“It’s good you called. The models are definitely not allowed to date Prestige clients except through the company. Every once in a while, we’ll have a client get really close to one of the girls and want to see her on a regular basis, but we expect a buyout in exchange for making that initial introduction. Do you think it’s that kind of a situation?”
“Nah, he just happened to come in with some of his buddies. Who knows whether he’ll even show up tomorrow. If he does, I’ll tell him he’s got to talk to you guys.”
“It’s for the best, Jasmine. Uncle Dave’s a real stickler about that. If he finds out the models are booking privately, they’re gone. He puts the word out to other agencies, too.”
Ellie knew that last part was a bluff.
“No big loss,” Jasmine said. “Dude was kind of a freak anyway. It was the guy from Labor Day weekend. Kept
