Free A Lover's Mask by Altonya Washington Page A

Michaela now than ever. The strength of such love only made him more content and grateful for the love he’d been blessed to find.
    â€œSo, she’s finally settling in to the idea of becoming a mama?” Quay asked, when Quest silenced.
    â€œI think she’s got a ways to go, but I’d rather have her stressing over stretch marks than trying to hunt down leads to a killer.”
    Quay nodded, understanding his brother’s relief. “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”
    â€œAbout?” Quest probed, crossing his sneaker shod feet atop his desk.
    â€œWell, I didn’t want Mick getting all caught up in the Sera Black case again and I didn’t want it creeping into my time with Tyke, but I can’t get the case out of my head.”
    â€œSo spill it.”
    â€œI keep thinking about what Wake said when I saw him on the train to Banff.”
    Quest massaged the brand on his arm. “What about it?” he asked.
    â€œWhen he started talking, he reminded me of how we met. During the interview his mom had to be our uncle’s assistant.”
    â€œMarc,” Quest supplied.
    â€œMmm…what keeps bothering me is that Wake said he’d been working for the man who was responsible for this.”
    â€œHouston,” Quest said.
    â€œIt’d seem he’s the one the evidence points to, but what if he’d been working for Marc?”
    Quest’s sleek brows drew close. “Quay, what the hell are you sayin’?”
    â€œIt’d make more sense. His mom was already working for him.”
    â€œDo you think Marc killed Sera?”
    â€œNo, no nothin’ like that,” Quay denied, massaging the back of his neck as he stood, “but I know the man has skeletons in his closet and if he used Wake to clean up Houston’s mess, maybe he used him for other things too.”
    Quest’s left dimple flashed as he pressed his lips together and considered his brother’s theory. “Things…things that could affect the family,” he noted.
    â€œMmm hmm and not for the good,” Quay predicted.
    Â 
    â€œCould we be overreacting about this, y’all?” Fernando asked his managers at The Spot where they met to discuss the sudden loss of personnel. “I mean, it’s not unusual for a woman to want out of this line of work no matter how nice we think the arrangement might be,” he pointed out.
    â€œIt’s just strange to lose so many girls in such a short span of time,” Mbeki Carpenter said.
    â€œMaybe someone latched onto a better position.” Fernando debated, shrugging lazily. “Maybe she wanted to share the wealth.”
    â€œA better position?” Terence Newsome inquired. “Fern, you think we’re bein’ taken by another club?”
    â€œDo we know of any new clubs in the area?” he asked, after silence filled the room for almost a minute. “Ones that would boast the same benefits as The Spot?” He stared out over the huge back lawn from his office window at the east wing of the mansion.
    Silence again. Clearly, no one had an answer. At least, not an answer they were comfortable admitting.
    â€œI suggest then, that we start sniffin’ around some of the clubs. The ones we do know about,” Fernando instructed, turning to fix his four managers with stern looks. “Let’s see if they’re havin’ the same problem. Then try talking with a few of the girls and see if they know anything.”
    â€œAlready covered Fern.”
    Everyone turned to see The Spot’s only assistant manager Barry Evans walking past the office’s double mahogany doors.
    â€œSorry I’m late Fern,” Barry apologized.
    Fernando waved his hand. “What’d you find?”
    â€œI spoke with two of the girls we lost. They got jobs with Hoover Lyles.”
    â€œThe travel agent?” Mbeki blurted.
    â€œMmm,” Barry confirmed with a nod