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“True. Except.”
“Yeah. Jeremy. I get it.” Esperanza kept typing. “First off, Bo Storm isn’t his real name.”
Myron put his hand to his heart. “Gasp. Oh. Gasp. I’m. So. Surprised.”
“Yeah, I’m starting with the obvious because after that, it all gets pretty strange.”
“In what way?”
“Bo Storm has been off the radar for five years. I mean totally.”
“Since Greg supposedly ran overseas.”
“Right. He closed it all down. Not just his Instagram account. Bo had a pretty decent OnlyFans following. Good subscriber base, maybe because his rates were cheap.”
“When you say OnlyFans and subscriber base—”
She looked up at him. “You don’t know what I mean?”
“I don’t.”
“You pay for access to see him naked.”
“Oh.”
“And in sex scenes with other men.”
“Oh.”
“Do you really not know this?”
Myron shook his head. “And when you say ‘his rates were cheap…’”
“His monthly subscription fee was only $1.99—but really I think he just used the OnlyFans to advertise his wares.”
“Wares?”
“Prostitution. It’s not just for us ladies. From what I’ve been able to find out, Bo worked at a gay sports bar called”—she raised her gaze and met Myron’s eye—“Man United.”
Myron looked at her. She continued to look at him.
“That’s actually a pretty funny name,” Myron said.
“Agreed,” Esperanza said.
“Do you have a real name for Bo?”
“Not yet but get this: I’m using this advanced facial recognition image search. You know what that is?”
“Pretend I don’t.”
“I put in a photo of someone’s face. It scours the entire internet and finds other photos that person is in.”
“Yikes. Talk about Big Brother.”
“It’s not new technology, Myron. It’s been around for years.”
“Okay, so what did you find?”
