My phone rings as I hand her the water.
“I got it under control,” I say into the phone, not waiting for Dex to start with the questions.
“How bad is it?” Dex asks.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“And Rowan?”
“Cut and bruised, but nothing I can’t fix up.”
I hear Dex sigh and then say to Katja slightly muffled, “She’s going to be fine.”
“What are we going to tell Mike?” I hear Katja ask, realizing I’m on speaker phone now.
I can hear the panic in her voice, clearly not used to having a murder happen in her hotel. Of course, her first thought would turn to letting the head of The Whitney’s security know what’s going on. Katja may be in a relationship with Dex now, but she still has no idea how we operate in the pit of the underworld’s belly.
“I turned off the cameras for the sixth floor before coming down here,” I say. “No need to tell Mike. The less people involved, the better. I’ll get Rowan to the thirteenth floor and have her stay with me there until we get everything cleaned. None of the staff will be notified of this. No one needs to know but the three of us and Rowan.”
I’m saying this all for Katja’s sake. Dex already knows this, but I’m sure he’s grateful that I’m walking Katja through the steps so he doesn’t have to be the messenger of some of the darker sides of our criminal concierge business.
“I just chartered a jet,” Dex informs. “We’re packing now.”
“Not necessary. Enjoy your trip,” I say, though once Dex makes up his mind on something, there’s no talking him out of it. “There’s nothing here I need help with. This is my domain. I have it under control. You both need this vacation, and The Whitney is doing just fine. I’m making sure of it.”
“We have a dead man on the sixth floor,” Dex states. “Paris can wait.”
“We’re on our way,” Katja reconfirms. “Please tell Rowan I’ll be there soon.”
I refocus my attention on Rowan when I end the call. She’s not rocking anymore but staring at me with wide eyes.
“Was that Dex and Katja?”
I simply nod.
“Do they think we should call the police?”
“We aren’t calling the police.”
“But if we explain to them that I was only defending myself, then this will all go away,” she tries to explain.
Yes, this is the stage where they always try to figure out an easy solution to a big fucking disaster.
“I can call my father and get his lawyers involved. This can all be explained.” She’s nodding her head and even smiling as the momentary delusion soothes her terror.
I walk to her, crouch down so we are at the same level, and take her trembling hands in mine. “I can make this go away, Rowan. No cops, no jail, no reporters and front-page articles. No long trials where the media will chew you up and spit you out. No risk that you will go to prison if Daddy’s lawyers don’t do their job well. The media will love to make a spoiled socialite look like a ruthless killer. They will prosecute and hand down a sentence even before the judge does. You know this or you would have called the police before you called Katja.”
I squeeze her hands which has her lifting her face so she’s staring at me directly. The bruising around her eye and cheekbone is getting worse. She opens her mouth to argue, but my words must be sinking in as no sound comes out.
“You killed a man,” I declare, knowing she needs to hear the hard truth. “Daddy can’t make that go away. A lawyer can’t sweep it nicely under a blanket. But I can do what they won’t. I can make this night disappear. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m fucking good at.”
Fresh tears fall from her eyes, and she yanks her hands free from mine. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.” She’s rocking again.
It’s not easy stepping into the darkness.
I walk to my bag and pull out a pair of black gloves and put them on. I then pull out a folded tarp and open it up. Speaking over my shoulder to Rowan, I say, “Go pack a few belongings. Just enough for what you’ll need tonight and tomorrow morning. And try not to transfer any blood around the room if you can help it. It will make my clean up easier.”
She remains frozen, still seated as if she hasn’t heard a word I said so I add, “I’m going to have you stay with me on the thirteenth floor. There aren’t any cameras on that floor so no one will see you. You’ll be safe there while I make this all seem like it never happened.”
“What about the body?” she asks, fear in her voice. “What do we do with him if we aren’t calling the police?”