Page 3 of Forbidden Wish
It took another few seconds, but the young woman relented. “Vex Manzani… do you know who he is?” Only too well. Youngest son of mafioso don Silvio Manzani. She nodded. “He has this really super exclusive club… Hustle. It’s invitation only. Do you know it?”
“No,” Imogen said. “But I know a man who will.”
TWO
HEATHER LANTRY.
Michelle Cadlow.
Stephanie Weet.
Their names were all she thought about. How did no one else see it? Others didn’t want to, so they wouldn’t. People loved to kid themselves.
Someone had to pay attention. Someone had to care. If she had to solve the mystery herself, that was exactly what she’d do.
I can do this.
That’s what she’d told her editor, Steeple, he hadn’t been so sure. She’d talked him into it. Sometimes it paid to have good skin and a great rack.
Asking questions was her job. In the name of getting to the story, risks were part of the process. Hadn’t all the greats gone undercover to get to the truth? Okay, she was no hardened crime reporter… or even a jaded detective, but this was worth it.
Someone had to put the pieces together.
Right then, that someone was her.
Her brother lived and worked at Jagg’s Autos, her next stop. Ford would be reasonable, wouldn’t he? Someone had to listen to her, why not her brother? First her colleagues shrugged her off, then her boss was dubious. Even the cops shooed her away. Family was her last hope, and she’d choose her brother over her father any day.
The dark gray corrugated metal fence around the vast warehouse site didn’t offer any glimpses inside. Being Friday afternoon, the guys may have closed for the day already. If they had, she’d need to go to her father’s… She shivered. That was one line of questioning best avoided.
The wide sliding gate was open. Good start. Now on to locating her brother.
Cars and bikes lined up under the covered parking area, running the width of the site. The glass doors at the front meant to be the main entrance would be locked. She didn’t need to peek through the glazed frontage showcasing the beauties inside to know that.
The real magic happened around the back. Unless someone had an appointment, there was rarely anyone in the showroom.
At the side of the building, a black door led to the front desk of the service department. Yeah, custom paint jobs were the biggest money, but they catered to all kinds of customers.
All kinds.
Standing around waiting for service wouldn’t get her anywhere. Patience was not a virtue she possessed anyway. Nor was reserve or restraint. The sound of masculine laughter didn’t deter her from rounding the corner of the massive building or striding across the painted concrete floor toward her brother at the back with a bunch of guys.
Whatever they all did around there, it was car related. Hence the vehicles on ramps or in various states of dismantled. People didn’t concern her. Ford was her focus. She walked right up to him, ignoring everyone else.
“We have to talk.”
“Whoa, shit, who’s the hot-ass babe?” one of his buddies hooted.
His friendship group expanded and contracted all the time. Those who’d stuck around a few years, she knew. Those who hadn’t were apparently idiots. No surprise. Jagg, the owner of the garage, had a habit of cutting breaks for guys down on their luck. Sometimes it panned out, sometimes he wasn’t so lucky.
“His sister, asshole,” Sutherland said before someone got smacked. “Show some respect.”
“Yeah, off-limits,” Coakley added.
“You say that like you asked, Coak,” the guy with the big trap said.
“I did.”
More laughter, but she didn’t flinch. Ford didn’t either, he studied her expression and must’ve concluded she was serious.
