Chapter Eleven
And so after a week of circling the problem, a week of failed attempts to solve it, I find myself in a cab heading deep into Tanglewood. The windows are down, letting muggy air brush into the black interior. Gouges mar the plastic handles, as if someone tried to get out. And failed.
I have this sense that everything has led me to this moment.
Everything has led me to Damon Scott.
The Den is a gentleman’s club, which doesn’t mean there are flashing marquee lights and free buffets inside. It’s an exclusive membership, where you have to know someone powerful and pay a lot of money. In other words, my father’s never been inside.
I stand in front of the carved wooden door, wondering what I’ll find inside. Half-naked women?
Completely naked women?
For all I know they won’t
