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“Uh, yes—yes, sir. I got the contracts and everything signed by both parties.”
Riggs smiles again. “What about the letter of intent to hire and work permits?”
Lenny’s eyes widen a fraction. “The, uh…what now?” He stammers.
“According to Illinois Child Labor Law, every minor must obtain a letter of intent to hire, take it to their school district, and then obtain a work permit. Did you handle that, or did Ms. Kain?”
“She, uh, she did that part. I just worked out the contract negotiations between the modeling agencies and—”
Victoria interrupts, “That is a blatant lie! He was hired and paid very well to handle all legalities of Harley’s career. If he skimped on things, I had absolutely no knowledge of it.”
Detective Riggs ignores her outburst, focusing on the man shrinking in his chair.
“Just one more question, Mr. Garbicia. For what purpose did you hire a private investigator a little over three months ago?” He cocks his head to the side, studying Lenny.
He doesn’t hesitate to answer this time. “Victoria asked me to find Harley after she ran away.”
He looks over at her, clearly glad to be able to shift some blame. I guess that’s how they found out I’d forged my foster mother’s signature and enrolled at OTU.
Again, Victoria gasps. “I was worried about her! She fled without a word to me about where she was going. I thought she was in danger.”
Her face is flawlessly pinched with concern. She even wipes an invisible tear away with her manicured finger. My eye roll could compete in the tumbling competition at the Olympics.
Riggs nods his head, and I feel a pinch of fear in my gut.
Is he actually buying this?
“Why would you be worried about her if you signed her release form to enroll at Ole Tex?” He holds up the document. Her name is scrawled across the bottom electronically.
I shrink back into my seat.
Victoria’s eyes cut to me, her lips curling cruelly. “I didn’t sign that form. She forged it. She’s a liar. I do my best as a foster parent, harboring orphans and even providing them with lucrative opportunities that could propel them into vibrant futures. In the modeling industry, no less! The competition is fierce, and she fought me tooth and nail the entire way. Ungrateful…” She blows out a breath, steadying herself with her hands on the armrests. “Nevertheless, I will take her back in and do my best to find us a new agent without such a checkered past.”
She begins to rise, but Riggs is smiling again and motioning for her to sit. She complies slowly, eyeing me warily. She thinks I’ve got something to do with this, but I have no idea where it’s going.
“Did you receive financial compensation for your modeling, Harley?” The detective turns to me this time.
I nod. “A little.” I’m losing this. He’s taking her side.
“How much did you receive per month, would you say?”
“Two hundred for a good month.”
His smile drops, and he looks back down at his documents. “You received two hundred dollars per month for the modeling you were doing?” he asks, his face no longer amused as he looks at Victoria and Lenny.
They’re both squirming, attempting to talk over each other.
“She—”
“It was—”
“That’s all I need to hear.” He holds up a hand to stop their rambling. “These are some impressive numbers. I had no idea a teenager could make this kind of money, modeling for tattoo magazines, clothing stores, makeup companies…”
He begins holding up glossy pictures of me. One’s a before and after of a tattoo being covered by foundation. The naughty parts are covered, but I’m clearly naked. I had little stickers over my nipples. Another is of me in a yellow bikini on the cover of Inked Goddess.
I’m mortified that Adam is seeing this. His eyes are wide, surveying the stack of magazines and printouts on the detective’s desk. He swallows, looking over at me with that horrifying expression of pity you never want a guy to wear. I shrink further into the chair, looking down to study the scratched yellow-tinted linoleum.
“Ms. Kain, were you present and did you give consent for each of Harley’s tattoos?”
