Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 173 -

Mona, Private Investigator.

James Valentino was one of those clients you just couldn't say no to.

I've had a few high-profile cases before, and even those guys didn't pay as well as Mr. Valentino. Sure, it was sometimes hard to get in touch with him, but oh boy, he paid on time and more than what was asked.

So, naturally, I wasn't going to complain when his investigation led me to the Sirens dance club at 3:00 AM.

The bouncer at the entrance eyed me suspiciously as I approached the door. They probably didn't get a lot of women, and from what I read on its website, it was supposed to be a slow day.

"Identification." He extended his hand toward me.

As if I could pass for someone under 21.

"Here you go, sir," I said, slipping a $100 bill under it. He glanced at my ID for a split second and returned it, sans the bill.

There really was no reason for him to turn me down, but the little extra was just to ensure I got what I wanted. Surely enough, he opened the door and let me through.

Everything about the "accident" Chad was involved in was shrouded in mystery. The police reports were conveniently lost in paperwork at the station, and the officer who had arrived at the scene was on paid leave for the foreseeable future. No way to contact him, of course.

When I had tried to talk to the doctors who assisted Chad, one paramedic panicked and literally ran away from me, and the ER doctor threatened to have me tossed out the door like a sack of potatoes.

But here, among the multi-colored lights of the smoke-filled strip club, I had found gold.

Sasha Lace, stripper and escort, who happened to be on the boat that night.

Finding her had been a stroke of luck, if I was to be honest. My tech guy provided me with footage of the security cameras in the marina, and he recognized her from this place. Said she was his favorite dancer. Thank the stars for lonely nerds, I guess.

I had taken a place near the back where I could watch without being seen, and soon enough, the last act of the night came onstage.

Sasha wore a pink wig and a tiny, silver and golden bikini and impossibly high heels. She swayed her hips to the rhythm of the music and wrapped her leg around the pole, swinging her body around it as the few guys up front tossed her some bills.

On the night of the incident, the cameras caught her running from the boat the second it hit the pier, while the other girls stayed behind to get paid or talk to the other guys who had witnessed the whole thing. Why had she fled like that? And what had she seen?

Before her act was over, I headed to the bar and requested a private dance.

"She's expensive, that one," the woman said, gesturing toward Sasha, who had now lost her top and was on the floor with her legs sprawled.

"Tell her I'll pay triple her fee," I said, handing the woman a folded $100 bill. "This is so you'll get the message to her. I'll be at the back."

With a wink, I returned to my spot and waited for Sasha's dance to be over. Some guys picked up the tips from the floor, and she scurried backstage, sending kisses flying to her patrons.

The woman at the bar promptly headed backstage as well, hopefully to convey my message. If she took too long, I'd have to go try to catch Sasha outside, and that wasn't going to be the best place to have a chat with her.

Soon enough, Sasha exited the door behind the bar with the woman, who then pointed at me. In a split second, Sasha resumed her character-she stood up straighter and her mouth took on that seductive shape she had used while onstage- and she sauntered toward me.

"Hi, baby," she said with a high-pitched tone that I was sure wasn't her regular voice. "Do you want to go somewhere more private?"

I nodded and she took my hand, escorting me even further back, to a room hidden by dark red curtains. Behind, there was a circular area with a small table and pole, and a blacklight casting the entire place in a shadowy haze. She sat me down on the soft seat and climbed on top of me, her breasts practically in my face.

"I love when I get an unusual client," she whispered into my ear and began to rock her body back and forth.

She started to do her dance, which involved a lot of rubbing against my pants and chest, as well some caresses that were threatening getting in the way of what I came here to do. I had to get her to trust me before I made my move or else she would run out.

The questions could come later.

"We can go somewhere even more private..." She smiled seductively at me.

"Actually, I want to ask you something first," I said, reaching out to my back pocket. I pulled out more $100 bills. "Then, maybe, we could go somewhere else."

I showed her the folded bills and placed them between her thong and her skin as she eyed me suspiciously.

"You were on a boat on the night of-"

"No!" she interrupted. Her back straightened and her eyes widened with panic. "I already told you guys. I want nothing to do with this." Her voice immediately changed, reverting to what I assumed was her normal tone. Gone was the sweet, sultry Sasha.

Sasha backed away from me and took the bills I had placed on her, throwing them at me.

"Wait." I grabbed her by the wrist just as she was about to stand. "You never spoke to ME. I'm not with them..."

"Then why do you want to know about that night, huh? The police has been all over me, those thugs they sent to my house... I don't want your money. I just want to forget that night ever happened and go on with my life."

"I came looking for you because the man who injured himself wants to hurt good people," I began, realizing that the angle I had been pursuing with Sasha had been wrong from the start.

If she had been interested in money, Chad's people would have already bought her. And if they hadn't, they would have terrorized her into silence so she couldn't be bought by the other side as well.

My only option was to appeal to her sense of justice, if she had any.

She scoffed at my words and rolled her eyes.

"That's all people like him do, anyway. What's the story? I didn't even know he survived that. I thought he blew his brains off."

Without realizing it, she already told me part of what I wanted to know. The thing was getting her to testify and spill the details to a whole room of people.

"Do you have kids, Sasha? Look, I do," I said, pulling out my wallet. I took out a picture I got from a frame Lisa had gotten me a while back, showing a beautiful little girl that could perfectly pass as my daughter. "This is my daughter. I'm telling you because I don't want to hurt you. And that man... he wants to take someone's kid away. I would die if she got taken away from me."

Sasha let out a sigh and finally got out of my lap, sitting next to me.

"They tried to pin it on one of my friends. She worked here, too. I haven't heard from her since. I really can't have this going on in my life..."

More useful information. I wondered what had happened to her friend. Maybe, if I found her... or her body, I could use that, too.

"Do you think that man is fit to be a parent? To a little boy?" I pleaded. "If the good people I'm working for can't prove that he's the one who caused this to himself, he'll get that kid, and the boy will grow up to be just like him."

"And how's that my problem? Even if I tell you what happened, there's nothing I can do to help whoever is losing their kid." Sasha shrugged. "I never even wanted to go there that night. I've worked for those guys before. It's always terrible, and the pay doesn't justify... what we've had to do for them. To them."

The look on her face was a mix of shame and fear, and I really pitied what she had to endure at the hands of Chad and his rich friends.

"My client needs someone who's willing to testify about what happened. Unless he can prove that what happened was the man's own fault, he takes his kid away."

"Then maybe the kid deserves to go with that idiot. Only someone who's already unfit to be a parent would lose to such a... monster." Hmm. There was more here than she was saying.

"Did you know him? Before that night?"

"I know all those guys. My friends... worked for them, from time to time."

"What would it take for you to tell a judge and jury what happened?" I said, going for the blunt approach.

"You're kidding, right? Why would a judge care about the testimony of someone like me? They're rich, upstanding businessmen," she said with a mocking tone. "I'm just a sleazy whore who happened to be at the wrong time and place." "That's not--"

"And then... what? I get back to dancing and fear that someone will come in and shoot MY brains out? Or wait for my daughter to get out of school and make her disappear as well?"

Sasha stood, ready to finish our conversation.

"My client has money, too. If what you want is a way out... of this life, a better future for your daughter... he can give you that. Start anew, somewhere else. He can get you a better-paying job."

For a split second, Sasha seemed to think it over. Then she shook her head.

"I'm too old to believe in fairy tales. Who would hire me for anything but this?"

"Tell me you'll think it over, at least."

"Don't come back here," she said. "Give me your phone."

I unlocked it and handed it to her.

"It's under S. Call me, and I'll call you back."

Without even glancing back in my direction, she left the room.

When I was about to exit, she returned and picked up the bills she had thrown at me as I watched her.

"I've got bills to pay," she said, and this time, she left for good.