Stanton walked to the front door, which was closed. He tried the knob but it wouldn’t budge, so he rang the doorbell. A woman in a silk robe answered, peeking out over a chain that only allowed the door open about six inches.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “our massage parlor is booked for this evening.”
Stanton lifted his badge.
She sighed. “There’s no girls available right now. Come back in a couple of hours and we’ll set you up.”
“What’re you talking about?”
The woman smiled. “Oh, you’re one of the good ones. I haven’t seen that in a while.”
Stanton stood silently a moment.
“Which detectives come here?”
“A lot. And that’s the reason we’re able to stay in business. It’s a small price to pay. So what do you need?”
“I’m investigating a homicide I think one of your girls was involved in.”
She shook her head. “None of my girls would do that. Now if there’s nothing else, I really—”
“Favors will protect you from prostitution charges, not from homicide.”
She thought it over a moment. “Fine,” she said, unlocking the door, “come in at least, then.”
The interior was made up like a Japanese spa, complete with soothing new age music playing from hidden speakers. He could instantly smell jasmine and lavender as they took a seat on a white leather couch. A bearskin rug was out in front of them and a fire was crackling in the fireplace, though it was well over eighty degrees.
“So you wanted to talk,” she said. “We can talk now.”
“Are you the owner?”
“Yes, Autumn Miller. Pleased to meet you….”
“Jon Stanton.”
“Jon Stanton. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
She nodded and opened up the front of her robe just a little more than Stanton was comfortable with.
“May the first at Dale Koa Hotel,” he said, ignoring the cleavage. “And maybe June the third at the Seasons. I need the girl that worked those nights at those hotels.”
“That’s confidential information. How many girls do you think would work for me if they knew I was cooperating with the police?”
“How many will work for you if we find out one of your girls murdered two people? The police will raid this place and shut it down. The case is already in the news, and if the murderer’s a call girl, it would make it irresistible to the media. Everyone on this island will know who you are. In your business, the only way it works is if you’re anonymous.”
Autumn watched him a moment, rose, and went behind a desk. She flipped through a computer and sipped something out of a teacup. Stanton didn’t move. He waited patiently a good five minutes before she returned and sat down.
“Let’s say I have something worth sharing. What do I get out of it? Some protection for the next time some mayor or district attorney wants to look tough on crime by storming in here?”
“I’ll do better. I’ll protect you from the detectives exploiting you.”
She smiled. “You’re very sweet. I can tell. But there’s nothing you can do about that. It goes higher than your pay rank.”
He grinned. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
She hesitated a moment and then handed him a yellow Post-it note. “I keep track of all my girls. They need a valid social security card, address, and blood tests. Some girls with HIV or hepatitis get fired from one place and move on to another. I make sure they can’t do that here.”
Stanton looked to the name on the note: Heidi Rousseau.
“Today’s her day off,” Autumn said.
“She worked both days? At both hotels?”
Autumn nodded. “She’s a newer girl. Only here a couple of years. A favorite of my customers, though.”
“She’s been here two years and she’s new?”
“Detective, you don’t know how hard this life can be for the girls. When they find something good, they stick to it. We have girls that have been with me for over a decade.”
Stanton rose. “If she comes
“I’m sorry,” she said, “our massage parlor is booked for this evening.”
Stanton lifted his badge.
She sighed. “There’s no girls available right now. Come back in a couple of hours and we’ll set you up.”
“What’re you talking about?”
The woman smiled. “Oh, you’re one of the good ones. I haven’t seen that in a while.”
Stanton stood silently a moment.
“Which detectives come here?”
“A lot. And that’s the reason we’re able to stay in business. It’s a small price to pay. So what do you need?”
“I’m investigating a homicide I think one of your girls was involved in.”
She shook her head. “None of my girls would do that. Now if there’s nothing else, I really—”
“Favors will protect you from prostitution charges, not from homicide.”
She thought it over a moment. “Fine,” she said, unlocking the door, “come in at least, then.”
The interior was made up like a Japanese spa, complete with soothing new age music playing from hidden speakers. He could instantly smell jasmine and lavender as they took a seat on a white leather couch. A bearskin rug was out in front of them and a fire was crackling in the fireplace, though it was well over eighty degrees.
“So you wanted to talk,” she said. “We can talk now.”
“Are you the owner?”
“Yes, Autumn Miller. Pleased to meet you….”
“Jon Stanton.”
“Jon Stanton. I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
She nodded and opened up the front of her robe just a little more than Stanton was comfortable with.
“May the first at Dale Koa Hotel,” he said, ignoring the cleavage. “And maybe June the third at the Seasons. I need the girl that worked those nights at those hotels.”
“That’s confidential information. How many girls do you think would work for me if they knew I was cooperating with the police?”
“How many will work for you if we find out one of your girls murdered two people? The police will raid this place and shut it down. The case is already in the news, and if the murderer’s a call girl, it would make it irresistible to the media. Everyone on this island will know who you are. In your business, the only way it works is if you’re anonymous.”
Autumn watched him a moment, rose, and went behind a desk. She flipped through a computer and sipped something out of a teacup. Stanton didn’t move. He waited patiently a good five minutes before she returned and sat down.
“Let’s say I have something worth sharing. What do I get out of it? Some protection for the next time some mayor or district attorney wants to look tough on crime by storming in here?”
“I’ll do better. I’ll protect you from the detectives exploiting you.”
She smiled. “You’re very sweet. I can tell. But there’s nothing you can do about that. It goes higher than your pay rank.”
He grinned. “I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
She hesitated a moment and then handed him a yellow Post-it note. “I keep track of all my girls. They need a valid social security card, address, and blood tests. Some girls with HIV or hepatitis get fired from one place and move on to another. I make sure they can’t do that here.”
Stanton looked to the name on the note: Heidi Rousseau.
“Today’s her day off,” Autumn said.
“She worked both days? At both hotels?”
Autumn nodded. “She’s a newer girl. Only here a couple of years. A favorite of my customers, though.”
“She’s been here two years and she’s new?”
“Detective, you don’t know how hard this life can be for the girls. When they find something good, they stick to it. We have girls that have been with me for over a decade.”
Stanton rose. “If she comes
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