Secrets of Sin: The Finale

MARI

With Ben’s disappearance, I am lost. I am losing all hope and faith. I don’t know what to do, but then it comes to me.

Owen Lange.

Yes, that young little scrapper with the colorful tattoos. The one who asked me to help him find his ex-girlfriend. He was the one who gave me the rap sheet on Justin in the first place.

Maybe he knows something. Maybe he can be of some use.

He certainly seems capable of making things happen, and he knows more than he is letting on.

I know Stevie must have his contact information, as Owen is one of his clients.

“Stevie?” I call down the hall, and Stevie comes shuffling along.

“Yeah, Mari, are you all right? Can I get you anything? Have you eaten?” Stevie yawns, stretching.

Why is food all anyone can think about? My husband is missing, and all anyone wants to do is feed me.

I shake my head.

“I’m fine, thank you. I need a number for Owen Lange.” I give him a steely gaze, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“You know I can’t break client privilege. That’s confidential.” Stevie shakes his head, backing away.

I let out a heavy sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “This is more important than that. I think he can help us find Ben.”

“Really?” Stevie gapes at me in awe.

“Yes, please, help me! Help me find my husband.” Tears spill down my cheeks. He should be jumping at the opportunity to help me.

A silent exchange happens between us as he decides to help me. I look at him with pleading eyes. My brother, my friend.

Stevie breaks eye contact and curses under his breath.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do it.” Stevie drops his head back in exasperation, and I beam at him.

“Thank you, brother.” I grin, and he blushes.

“Give me a minute.” Stevie shuffles back down the hall, and I wait. A few moments pass, and he comes running back.

“Here’s his card.” Stevie holds it out, his cheeks flushing. “Just don’t tell him I gave this to you. I’ll lose my job.”

“Of course not,” I assure him, and he retreats down the hall.

Call me anytime is scrawled in blue ink across the card.

“I just might.” I grin as I reach for my phone.

It rings several times before Owen answers.

“Hello?” His voice sounds distant, far away.

“Owen Lange?” I ask when he answers.

“Yes, who’s calling?” His voice is hoarse.

“This is Mari Monroe from The Silky Bunny.” I use my strong businesswoman voice instead of Sin’s.

He laughs. “Mrs. Monroe, what a pleasant surprise.”

I grip the phone. I don’t know what about his tone makes me uneasy, but I suddenly question if I’m doing the right thing.

“Owen, do you have time to meet? I need to speak to you about something important.” I let him hear my urgency. I need his help.

“Of course. Would you like to meet at your club?” Owen asks, and I can almost see his blue eyes sparkling.

“Yes, that would be great, and can you bring me any information on that Justin fellow?” I tap my finger on the dresser, willing this to work.

“Justin? Justin with the one eye?” Owen questions, and I laugh.

“Yes, Justin with the one eye. Please, anything you have on him. His last known whereabouts, anything will help.” I eye him, hopefully.

Owen hesitates a moment, sucking in a slow breath. “Mrs. Monroe, Mari, is everything all right?”

“No, it’s really not. My husband has been taken from me.” I have to trust that this will work. This will get me one step closer to my husband.

“Taken?” Owen stammers.

“Yes, abducted.” I close my eyes against the pain.

“Jesus.” Owen lets out a heavy breath.

“I know, and no one knows a thing. All I can think about is this Justin character. He’s the only thing that stands out.” I grip the phone tighter in my hand.

“Okay. All right, I’ll help you. Give me a few hours, and I’ll see what I can dig up.” Owen sounds resigned.

“Thank you. See you then.” I end the call, pushing my hair from my face. It’s a step in the right direction.

After a few hours, I head over to The Silky Bunny, and Lady Wynter greets me.

“You’re not on shift tonight,” she drawls, looking me up and down. “And honey, are you okay?”

“I’m just meeting a friend.” I don’t want to involve her in my affairs.

“Okay, can I get you a drink? You look like you could use one.” She flicks her eyes up and down my body.

Jesus, do I look as bad as I feel?

“That would be great. Something dark.” A drink might calm my nerves.

“Ah, a whiskey girl, I should have known.” She winks at me before walking away. Her silver-blonde hair braided neatly down her back, hanging nearly to her hips.

I find a booth in the corner and wait for Owen. Star is on stage, doing her latest dance routine to Beyoncé’s “Drunk In Love.” It’s quite good. I trained her right.

He shows up precisely on time.

I was the impatient one, getting in early. Not like I had anything else to do.

“Hi, thanks for meeting me.” I shake his hand.

“Of course, anything I can do to help,” Owen smiles, and I see the youth on his face.

His golden hair and light blue eyes are almost cherubic in contrast to his intimidating, colorful tattoos.

Owen hands me a file folder, and I flip it open.

There are pictures, bank receipts, and a rap sheet on Justin Banks.

“Banks, his last name is Banks,” I say to myself, and he nods.

I didn’t remember that from before. I just thought he was some thug tearing up my club.

“For so long, he was just Justin to me.” His last name gave me something new to work with.

“Justin Banks is a bad dude, but he doesn’t keep a low profile.” Owen shakes his head.

“This photo was taken two days ago?” I point to the picture.

“Yes, from an ATM camera in the town, it’s time-stamped,” Owen flicks his finger at the string of numbers along the bottom.

“Good, that means he’s likely still in the area.” I sigh with relief.

Owen grits his teeth and looks around the club.

“I don’t mind helping you. Hell, I’ll do it for free, but have you thought any more about what I asked? About Rosie?”

“Rosie? You mean your seamstress ex-lover?” I raise a brow in question.

“Yes, I mean her. I don’t want to bother her. I just need to know she is all right.”

I can see the pain in his eyes. Something compels me to help him.

“All right. I’ll look into it. I’ll look for her, but you help me find Ben, okay?” I cross my arms.

“Yes, ma’am. Anything you ask, I’ll do it.” Owen grins.

“This Justin Banks, he is a dangerous man. I can’t have him coming into my club or my home threatening me or my girls.” I look around the room.

Raven is on stage, and she looks radiant. I can’t let what happened to me happen to any of them.

I can’t let someone else get abducted.

If Justin could take Ben...BEN! Of all people, then why couldn’t he hurt one of my girls?

“I see that you value your employees. I know some guys who could give you an extra hand at security if you want their number.” Owen raises a brow in question.

“That would be great. I think it’s time to double down on security with all that is going on,” I sigh as Lady Wynter brings me my drink.

“Here you go, doll.” She winks at me. “Sorry, it took me so long, I had an unruly customer.”

“Is everything all right?” I look around to see if I can find the source of this issue.

“No, it’s handled; you go ahead and enjoy your night.” She smiles softly, turning to Owen.

“Anything for you?” She raises a brow.

“No, ma’am. I’m fine. Thank you.” He nods, and Lady Wynter walks away with a grin.

I look at his beaming face as he nods.

I realize it now. I have to decide to trust him.

I have to want it.

I need it.

I have to find this Rosie and help him so he can help me.

It’s a win-win situation.

“Good. Thank you for meeting me. We’ll be in touch,” I say as I pound my drink.

Owen raises his brows as he watches me gulp down the dark liquor.

“Mrs. Monroe, are you all right?” His cheeks flush.

“No, I’m not, but that’s why you’re helping me. We’ll figure this out together.” I smile at him, and he nods.

“Yes, ma’am.” He stands up from his chair, bowing his shoulders to me before turning to leave. “You drive safe.”

I get home and process everything I learned, read, and saw. There’s a tickle in the back of my mind. How does Owen know so much?

I grab my phone, ready to call and ask him a few things when Brittany barges through the front door.

“What the hell is going on?” She aggressively tosses her keys on the side table.

“What are you talking about?” I scrunch my brows, confused.

“Stevie, what did you do to him?” She crosses her arms and glares at me.

“I simply asked him for a phone number.” I roll my eyes.

Brittany shakes her head and grips her temples as I reach for my phone.

“Who are you calling?” She stomps, shoving her hands in the air.

“Owen Lange,” I growl, sounding harsher than intended.

“For what?” Brittany cocks her head and looks me up and down.

“He might know something that could help me find Ben. I have to do this myself, Brittany. I have to find my husband.”

Why does no one seem to understand that?

“Over my dead body,” Brittany snarls, hands on her hips.

Good god, here we go.