CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

With the address of Dove in their hands the following day, the team of men drove the distance from D.C. to New York City to find the lush high rise apartment building. Finding a place to park in the city was an adventure all on its own. At a price of fifty to seventy-five dollars a day, it made all of them consider buying a building, tearing it down, and building a parking garage.

"It's fucking highway robbery," frowned Gator.

"I know," smirked Alistair. "Let's just see if we can get inside this building."

Typical for the city, especially a building this elite, there was a doorman who let no one pass without approval of the resident. He asked the men to sign the register first, then asked what they needed.

"We're here to see Dove," said Alistair.

"I'm sorry. She's not seeing anyone right now," said the man.

"This is about the recent death of her friend," said Garr. "She can either speak to us here or we can go to the authorities and tell them how she left her friend to die alone in a bar."

The doorman straightened, looking at the group of men, then picked up the phone, whispering to the person on the other end of the line. A few moments later, two young men came down in the elevator, trying to make themselves look bigger and tougher than they really were.

"You here to see Dove?" asked one of the men.

"That's right."

"Sorry. As he said, she ain't seein' no one right now."

Alistair smirked at the young man and looked at his friends. Leif and Dan both stepped closer to him as the bodyguard pulled his coat back to reveal a weapon, a cocky grin on his face. Both men laughed, lifting their own sweatshirts to reveal two weapons each.

"We don't want to do this," said Alistair, "and you damn sure don't want to do this. She can either speak with us now, or we go to the press about her dead girlfriend."

Nervously, the first man looked to the second, and he nodded.

"Come on up."

"How nice of you," smiled Garr. The large elevator accommodated the group, although there was very little breathing room. The team made sure the two bodyguards were in the center of the elevator, surrounded by them.

As the doors opened into the apartment, they could hear the voice of the young woman.

"Did you get rid of them?" she called.

"No. They didn't get rid of us," said Alistair, walking into the living room.

Dove was seated with her friend, both wearing a designer tracksuit and more gold than any person should possess. They stood, wobbling on their feet, staring at the men.

"Hey, we met you," said Dove.

"That's right. You met us the night you left your friend to die. Helluva friend you are," said Garr.

"We were scared. That's all. We didn't kill her. You heard the news. It was a drug overdose."

"It was an overdose of drugs that you're using as well," said Sor, walking toward the bottles lined up on the table. The bodyguards rolled their eyes at the girls for their stupidity. "You're taking a drug that stops your appetite but also contains an addictive opioid. That's why you want it more and more and why you're fading away to nothing."

"I'm exactly the right size," she said with a superior tone.

"No, you're not," said Rett. "You're pathetically thin and dying from lack of proper nutrition. I'm going to guess that you're both wearing wigs because your hair didn't look that way when they saw you last. Your nails are brittle. Your skin is yellow and dry. You're not okay."

"What do you want? Money?"

"Nope. Don't need your money or anyone else's," said Alistair.

"You want to fuck us?" asked the other girl.

"Not in this lifetime," growled Sor. "Besides, you got yours last night in West Virginia, didn't you?" Both girls stared at them, shaking their heads.

"I knew that asshole would say something," said Dove.

"Who is he?" asked Alistair.

"He's just some drug dealer I met a few months back when I was in L.A. He said he knew a producer who could help me, but I would need to lose at least forty pounds. He actually called me obese. I weighed one-forty-one."

"And now?" asked East.

"I'm about ninety-eight."

"Eighty-nine," frowned the bodyguard. She glared at him, and he just shrugged. "Sorry, Dove. I've tried to tell you that this shit is killing you. You're unhealthy now, and when you step out on that stage looking like that, other young girls are going to think that it's okay to be dying, just to be thin."

"I'm not dying," she whispered.

"Yes, you are," said Matt. "You're dying every time you take one of those pills. It ensures that you don't have a desire to eat and that you'll take another one when you crave it. They've created these drugs to make sure they are successful for weight loss but also addictive. You're going to die."

She slowly sat down on the sofa, folding her hands over her knees.

"All I've ever wanted to be is a successful singer, a famous pop star. Since I was eleven years old," she said. "Social media allowed me to put my music out there, but I could hide behind the microphone and not show the world what I looked like."

"I've seen your pictures from before all this," said Matt. "You were a nice-looking girl. Beautiful figure, beautiful face, and a voice to match. Don't let them do this to you."

"I can't help it. We can't help it. We're addicted to this. I want another pill now, and I just took one."

"We know someone who can help," said Gator. "Pack a bag and let us get you to them."

"I can't. Not now. I'm supposed to be on the stage in Central Park tomorrow night. People will lose their money. I just have to get through this."

The men just stared at one another, and then Alistair looked at the bodyguards.

"You need to get her to eat something on a regular basis. She doesn't know she's hungry because it's suppressed her appetite to the extent of starving herself. Get her to eat a little soup and half a sandwich. Anything. When the concert is done, get some help."

The bodyguards nodded and looked at the girl.

"You have to listen to them, Dove," said the man.

"Who are the men that sold this to you?" asked Alistair.

"Like I said, we met him in L.A. We were just looking for something to help with my stage fright. He gave me this and told me it would help with the weight loss. He said if I lost the weight, he would connect me with a producer."

"Did he?"

"No. Not yet," frowned Dove.

"What's his name?"

"We only know him as Roper. I don't know his real name or last name. Usually, he sends the drugs to a doctor in midtown or in the D.C. area when I'm down there visiting my dad. Last night, well, last night, he demanded that we come to him in West Virginia. You were there?"

"We were there," said Alistair.

"God," she whispered, shoving her hands over her face. "Katelyn was usually the one that would have sex with him. I think she actually liked him. It's part of his deal. He gets the drugs for us. We buy them, but we have to allow him to have sex with us as well."

"Dove," sniffed one of the bodyguards. Alistair looked at the man, then back at the girl. There was a distinct familial likeness.

"You're her brother." The man nodded. "You're her brother, and you allowed this to happen? What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"I-I know. I'm sorry. I was just trying to help her live her dream. I didn't know it was all so bad."

"You didn't know?" asked Sor. "Take a good fucking look at her! She's a skeleton. She won't ever make it in music because she won't live to see it."

There was utter silence in the room except for the two girls hugging one another, sniffling, and the brother taking in a deep breath.

"I think we need to get you that help now," he said. "No arguments, or I'm calling Dad."

"Who is your father?" asked Alistair. They both looked at one another, then back at the men in the room.

"He's the president of the university in D.C.," said Dove.

"Fucking unbelievable," said Sor, walking away.

"Where can I find this man? Where is Roper?" asked Alistair.

"He lives somewhere in the mountains, but I don't know where. He's not the one in charge. I know that for sure because he's referenced ‘the boss' several times. I text him when I want something, and he tells me where to pick it up."

"Give me his number."

"He'll kill me," she whispered.

"Go away. Go with your brother and get the help you need. We can help you disappear. I need to stop this man. He's killing people with this shit, and he's trying to kill some innocent people I know and care for. What he's done to you is not helping your career. It's hurting it. If you can get yourself healthy and clean, there could be a chance for you to have something amazing and special."

She nodded, wiping more tears from her face. Writing down the number, she handed it to him.

"Tell him I sent you. I've done it before. He might ask you a lot of questions. He's not going to believe that you want to lose weight. You're going to have to find someone softer, less muscular. He's really picky about who he uses." Alistair stared at the woman and nodded. "Also, he usually carries weapons and sometimes will have other men with him. Not always, but usually. He's disgusting and likes to make the girls screw him. I hate it, but I was so addicted to this stuff I couldn't turn him away. Just know that he's dangerous. Okay?"

"Noted."