Nicole found Holly’s reaction, and her comment, interesting. “Why?”
Holly seemed more alert now. “Because it could get you, and Sloane, in a lot of trouble if the wrong people find out that he’s seeing underage girls. The first thing we’re told when we agree to stay at The Sanctuary is that we always say we’re eighteen, no matter what our real age.”
So that’s how Sloane managed to keep his hands clean. The girls lied about their age, and he pretended to not know any different. While her mind came to that conclusion, her curiosity was piqued by something else Holly had said.
“The Sanctuary?” she asked, wondering what the other girl meant. “What is that?”
“That’s Sloane’s place in Summerlin,” Holly said, and smiled. “It’s absolutely beautiful there. So safe and peaceful.”
Sloane had obviously chosen the word sanctuary for a reason, and it played right into the perception of him offering girls like Holly a haven from a previously troubled life, a refuge where they felt taken care of and protected. An illusion, Nicole knew, but to a young girl craving a place where she felt secure, the warm and welcoming atmosphere Sloane had created could seem very real.
There was so much more she wanted to know about Holly, like how she’d gotten involved with Sloane and if her family knew where she was. Certain that she was much younger than her claim of eighteen years, Nicole guessed that Holly was possibly even a runaway who’d seen Sloane as her salvation.
There were so many questions, and so little time to ask them. And before her time with Holly ran out, Nicole needed to find out if Angela was here tonight, and if not, where they could find her.
Nicole smiled at Holly, who’d relaxed once again now that she’d let the subject of their ages go without further questioning. “I have a friend I think you might know. Last time I talked to her she mentioned Preston to me, so she might even be here tonight.”
Holly tipped her head curiously. “What’s her name?”
“Angela Ramsey. She has blond hair and blue eyes.”
A sullen look passed over Holly’s features, making it clear that she wasn’t thrilled to hear the name. “Oh, you mean Angel .”
The innocent connotations of the nickname Angela had been given weren’t lost on Nicole. “Angel?”
“That’s what Preston calls her,” Holly said, a bit of resentment creeping back into her tone.
“So you know her?”
Holly nodded, though she didn’t look happy about the conversation revolving around another girl she considered a rival for Sloane’s attention. “She’s another one of Preston’s favorites.”
At least now Nicole had verification that Angela was still involved with Sloane. It was a start. “Is she here tonight?”
“No.” Holly’s lips pursed morosely. “Preston doesn’t like to share Angel, but he will. Eventually.”
The pain in Holly’s voice tore at Nicole’s resolve. She tried to keep her emotions out of the equation, but it was difficult not to empathize with Holly’s situation when Nicole had been in a similar one herself.
“Do you know where Angela is?” Nicole asked, needing that last bit of information so she and Nathan could figure out their next plan of action.
“She’s at The Sanctuary in Summerlin.”
Before Nicole could ask Holly any more questions, out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching them. They’d been left alone up until this point, but whoever was heading toward them had Holly sitting up straighter and looking as though she was bracing herself for something very unpleasant.
Surprised by Holly’s odd behavior, and curious to know who had evoked such a strong reaction, Nicole glanced at the woman who’d come to a stop where they were sitting on the couch. She was wearing a black low-cut dress and had a centerfold-type body that most men would appreciate, coupled with gorgeous blond hair that fell halfway down her back in soft waves.
This was no young girl, but a fully grown woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties-and was most likely the oldest female in the nightclub. There was a hardness about her despite her outer beauty, a shrewdness in her gaze that came from years of experience-and not necessarily good ones. Whoever she was, her appearance prompted Holly’s expression to fill with dread.
The woman turned that discerning look toward Nicole, studying her through narrowed eyes. “Are you a new girl?”
Her inquiry was direct and to the point, and Nicole shook her head before any wrong assumptions were made. “No. I’m here with someone.”
“And who would that be?” the woman asked, an unmistakable air of authority in her tone.
“Alex Keller.”
“Fine,” she said, as if she recognized the name, then she turned that cool green gaze back on Holly. “Derek is asking for you, and Preston said for you to do whatever it takes to make him happy. He’s waiting for you in the sapphire room, so don’t be long.”
Reluctantly, Holly nodded her assent.
With that, the woman moved on. Her message was cut-and-dried, with no warm fuzzies to buffer the reality of what she was telling Holly to do. Nicole’s chest felt heavy with heartache and grief for Holly-and a deeper rage against Sloane.
“Who was that?” Nicole asked, certain the woman was someone important to Sloane-and if that was the case, she and Nathan needed to know all the players the other man kept in his employ.
“That’s Gwen. She’s Sloane’s assistant.” Holly stood up, her gaze despondent, yet resigned to her fate. “I’ve got to go before I get in trouble.”
Nicole watched Holly walk away, moving like a wooden, emotionless doll. She stopped at the bar, ordered another drink, then downed it in one gulp before disappearing down a hallway that Nicole assumed led to private rooms.
Knowing what awaited Holly in the sapphire room, it took every bit of control that Nicole possessed not to go after the young girl and rescue her from this degrading situation. She felt so damn helpless, and she knew why, but she had no time to dwell on her own past. Right now, she just hated being powerless to save Holly.
Pushing her own emotional turmoil aside, she exhaled a deep breath and focused on what needed to be done next. She now knew where Angela Ramsey was being sequestered, and she needed to let Nathan know so they could decide on their next plan of action.
Retrieving her cell phone from her purse, she texted Nathan the flirtatious phrase they agreed she’d use once she had information to share.
I’m ready for you, baby.
Nathan’s conversation with Sloane went fairly well, with the two of them enjoying a drink while covering a wide variety of topics-from the Vegas casinos they preferred to play at, to Sloane’s recent vacation at his villa in Italy, to the new business venture Nathan was considering investing in-a fictional deal set up by Lucas Barnes to add to Nathan’s portfolio as an entrepreneur. Eventually, their discussion came around to Nicole and the young girls at the nightclub.
And there were many from what Nathan could see. Some had hooked up with the men in the lounge, while others were mingling and openly coming on to the older gentlemen; most of the beds were occupied with couples getting busy. A few girls who looked high on something, either alcohol or drugs, were dancing provocatively together, their youthful bodies writhing against one another and providing a classic girl-on-girl fantasy for most of the guys in the club.
For Nathan, the atmosphere was nothing short of sleazy and a repulsive display of depravity, at the very least. Sloane’s lifestyle, and the careless way the other man exploited children, went against every ethical bone in Nathan’s body and was a stark reminder of how imperative it was that this undercover case concluded much differently from his last mission as a vice cop.