Flynn stood up.  Placing his hands palm down on the conference table, he leaned over it and into Jackson’s space.  “She’s not fucking any of them now and hasn’t fucked any of them in the past.”

“You know this how?” Jackson asked, and smirked.

“My sex life is no one’s business but mine, Sergeant Jackson,” Pink said calmly. “That said, the answer to your question is no, I haven’t dated or been intimate with any of the men or women who frequent the club.”

 “Thank you, Miss Fuentes,” Justin said. “Is there more than one way to access the office?”

“No, just the one entry.  It has several deadbolts, and a guard outside the door when Boris is in-house.”

“How often is he in-house?”

“A few times a month.”

“Does he have a regular day?”

“The club is only open Wednesday through Saturday. He shows up different days and times.”

Justin typed in notes.  When he looked up from his laptop, he looked thoughtfully at Pink.  “How much do you know about Boris’s side business of blackmail videos?”

Pink pushed the pictures away and straightened in her chair.  “What does any of that have to do with finding my sister?”

“Who is your sister?” Justin asked.

Surprised, Pink looked at Flynn.  “You didn’t tell them?”

“Not my story to tell.  That’s yours.”

Her lips parted, her white teeth catching the tip of her pink tongue.

“You asked me to keep your secret.  I gave you my word.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Caught up in the emotion flickering in her eyes, Flynn smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.  He’d just scored major points with her. “Your secret is safe with every man in this room,” Flynn said, then looked pointedly at Jackson, who nodded. “And woman.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice as trusting as a child’s.  But her tone didn’t fool Flynn. Pink had a steel rod running through her.

“For us to be able to help you, you’re going to have to be transparent. About everything.”  Flynn nudged her chin up with his hand.  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” God help Jackson if she went after Pink again.

“Yes,” she said, her breathless voice shooting straight to his dick.  Pink turned to Justin and said, “Alexandra Chastain, Senator Chastain’s daughter, is my half sister.”

Confusion flashed across Justin’s face.

“I thought he only had one daughter,” Price said.

Pink shook her head.  “He has two. I’m his dirty little secret.”

Justin pursed his lips, but nodded.  “Let’s back up, Miss Fuentes. Tell me what you know about Boris’s blackmail video business and how you came to know about it.”

“My sister called me a little over three months ago, begging for my help.  She said she was in trouble.”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but did she say what kind of trouble?” Justin asked.

 Pink nodded.  “First she said, she thought someone was trying to kill her.  Then later in the conversation she said, ‘I think it’s him’.”

“Who is him?”

“I don’t know.  And I didn’t believe her,” Izzy whispered looking at her hands in her lap then back to Justin. “We’d been estranged for thirteen years so I wasn’t very receptive.  She told me was working at the Surf’s Up club and asked me to meet her that day to talk. I refused and hung up on her.” Pink swallowed, her voice full of emotion. “I felt bad and a few days later called her.  Her phone was disconnected.  I went to the club and asked about her, I was told by Sherry, the bookkeeper, that she no longer worked there. I called the cops and asked if there was a missing persons report filed on my sister, they said no.”

“Didn’t you think that was odd?”

“Yes and no. Apparently my sister had been working at the club for some time. I’m sure her mother gave birth to a cow or two over that news.  My father?” She shrugged.  “He’s a politician. For all I know he had her shipped off to a dark corner of world so she wouldn’t hurt his chances of getting reelected.” As she said the words, Flynn caught Justin’s gaze.

They were thinking the same thing.

“Did you confront your father?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I have nothing to say to him, and even if I asked him, he wouldn’t tell me anything.  So I took matters into my own hands.  I went back to the club and got hired to pick up cocktail shifts for girls who called in sick or were no shows.”

Pink looked at Flynn, and then back to her captured audience.

“I used my tip money to buy information about Jasmyn, that’s my sister’s stripper name. I paid a lot of money for zero information. I showed up on time and did a good job and Andre, the manager, started giving me better shifts and tables. When I went to him directly and asked about Jasmyn, he told me only Boris had that information.  But if I wanted it bad enough he would ask Boris on my behalf.  If, I would make a video. I refused but then he told me the last girl to make a video was Jasmyn. Andre made it sound like Jasmyn made the video, handed it over to Boris who then paid her a large sum of money and she walked out the door never to be heard from again.  I don’t believe Boris gave her a dime and I don’t believe she walked out of there either.  Someone took her.”

“Explain the process in detail, please,” Justin asked levelly.

“Andre came to me in my dressing room this past Saturday night, saying there was a bunch of cops in for a private party.  He wanted me to cut one from the herd, slip him the mickey Andre provided me, and once he was drugged, take him somewhere and make a compromising video of the two of us. I give the video to Andre, he then gives it to Boris and return he would get me the information I wanted. What Boris was going to do with it, I don’t know.”  She looked at Flynn and had the decency to blush.  “But I can guess.”

“And did you cut one from the herd, drug him, and make a video?” Justin prompted.

“Well, yes and no.  I did cut one from the herd, and I did slip him the mickey, but he was on to me and, well, the night didn’t go as I had planned.”

“How did it go?” Price asked.

“None of your business, Price,” Flynn barked.

“If it’s relevant—” He tried to defend himself.

“It’s not. So leave it alone,” Flynn bit out.  He looked at Justin for some help.

“I don’t understand what all of this has to do with you helping me find Alex,” Pink stated.  “I’ve been working at that dump for over three months because of her.  The only reason I’m here is because Flynn said you might be able to help me.”

“Settle down, Wild Style,” Price said.

Flynn stood so fast his chair fell back against the wall.  “You’re being a disrespectful asshole, Price.”

“Knock it off, Maddox,” Justin commanded.  As Flynn stared down the younger man, he had the common sense to nod.

“My apologies, Miss Fuentes.”

“I’ve been called a lot worse than my working name, Mr. Price.  I doubt anything that comes out of your mouth can hurt me.”

Pride swelled in Flynn’s chest.  He loved that she never made excuses for who she was or what she did.  She’d more than held her own in here.  She was an amazing woman who had put herself in a vulnerable position where people like Jackson and, Flynn cringed, himself, thought less of her because she took her clothes off. It shouldn’t matter why she did it; she chose to. Seeing the ugliness of it all made Flynn ashamed of himself. He should take a page out of her lesson book.

“I would never intentionally cause you harm, Miss Fuentes,” Price said, properly put in his place.  The other men around the table shook their heads like he was the village idiot.

“Miss Fuentes,” Justin said, “We’ve had our eyes on the club for some time now. Unfortunately we don’t have the manpower to have eyes on the club twenty-four seven, so your intel is invaluable.  Thank you. While I can’t speak to anything specific regarding your sister at the moment, I promise to look into her disappearance immediately. In so doing, I would caution you, not to make any contact with your father or his wife, or anyone associated with Surf’s Up except as it pertains to your job there.” Justin looked at Flynn.  Message received.  He’d back off.