For a moment, he seemed to realize he'd crossed a line. Then he rolled his eyes dramatically, grabbed his briefcase, and stormed off without another word.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. After ordering a taxi, I headed for Moonlight Club alone.
The club was only ten minutes away, its neon sign casting a purple glow over the entrance. Inside, I was directed to a private suite where Kenneth was already seated with two middle-aged men—Harold Blackwood and Douglas Thornton.
The scene that greeted me was distasteful at best. Both men, one overweight and the other with slicked-back hair that glistened with too much product, had heavily made-up women perched on their laps. The moment I entered, all eyes fixed on me with undisguised interest.
"And this is...?" Harold
