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“I know, but . . . fuck.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “It will get back to him. To the other guys. Everyone will know I said something.”
Bennett tried to remain calm. Sewell was obviously the player Nico was looking for, the one who roofied Sofia Marzano’s drink. But even though he knew it, he had to get more information out of McPherson, fast, and then try to find Sewell. “No one will know. I will protect you. But I need to hear it, Mac. Now.”
“I don’t want that mob guy to find out, either.”
“Then I need the truth, Mac. I need to take it to the authorities because it will be too late if the mob guy finds out first.”
“Fuck!” McPherson bent over and grabbed his hair in two fists. “Fine. Yes! I loaned my car to Alex. He said he was going out with some girl and didn’t want her to know he drove a Ford. After you told us in Chicago what happened, I confronted him. He denied it at first, but I didn’t let it go. Then he finally admitted it but said it was harmless, that the girls weren’t even mad when they woke up.”
Jesus Christ. Bennett felt sick. Like he might vomit on the tasteful carpet. “Was he raping them?”
“He said no, but I don’t know if I believe him or not. I mean, it’s fucked up, doing something like that.”
Yeah, it was definitely fucked up. Bennett tried not to let Mac see the rage and panic he was feeling. “Okay, I’ll swing by his house. Thanks, Mac.”
“I should come with you.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea. He’d also bring Noah, just in case Alex tried to get physical or do something stupid.
“Let’s shower and get dressed,” he said. “As quick as you can.”
No one answered. Bennett, McPherson, and Noah stood outside Alex’s door, banging for a full five minutes, but silence was all they heard. Almost as a joke, Bennett finally tried the knob . . . and the door pushed open. It was unlocked.
“What the fuck?” Noah said quietly.
“He always locks his door,” McPherson said. “He’s anal about it.”
Bennett pushed the door wider, calling, “Alex?”
McPherson eased around Bennett and walked into the apartment. “Welly, where are you? Answer us, asshole.”
Nothing.
Alarmed, Bennett said, “Search everywhere. See if he’s here.”
They split up. Bennett went to Alex’s bedroom. It was messy, with the bed unmade and clothes on the floor, but it was empty. Same for the bathroom.
“He in here?” McPherson asked. “Guest bedroom is empty.”
“Not here either. Noah?” he shouted. “You find anything?”
“Empty!”
Bennett peeked into the closet and saw a white square overturned on the floor. Was that a receipt? No, wait. A Polaroid? Bennett knelt down, flipped it over, and peered closer. His breath caught. Holy shit. A young woman. Eyes open but with a lifeless stare, naked and positioned. Restrained with cuffs.
Was Sewell drugging these women then photographing them before assaulting them?
“What the fuck!” McPherson was over Bennett’s shoulder, taking in the photo. “No, you can’t be serious right now, bro. He was doing this? What the fuck!”
This photo. A missing Alex Sewell. Bennett knew exactly what happened.
Nico.
Somehow Nico had discovered Alex Sewell was doing this and had arrived here first. Shit! When? And why hadn’t he called Bennett?
Quickly, Bennett dug his phone out of his pocket. Found their text thread.
Bennett: CALL ME
