Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 53

Early the next morning, Celestine's phone buzzed with a call from an unfamiliar number.

"Hello, is this Miss Selwyn? Sorry to bother you. I'm Mirabelle's agent, and I need you to come down to the police station."

Celestine immediately understood—this had to be about what happened at the club last night.

"I'll be there right away."

She unlocked her phone and checked the trending news.

Any headlines about Mirabelle from the night before had been scrubbed clean; not a single trace remained.

Celestine let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

After a quick shower, she pulled herself together and hurried to the police station.

Outside, Mirabelle's agent, Denton, was already waiting.

"I'm sorry to trouble you with this. Mirabelle's in a delicate spot—she can't show her face right now. I can only ask you to come on her behalf, Miss Selwyn."

"It's alright, really. Just tell me—how are those two bastards being dealt with?" Celestine asked, her concern evident.

Denton's smile was strained. "Not enough evidence. The police gave them a stern talking-to, took their statements, and now they're out on bail, pending review."

Celestine felt her throat tighten.

Not enough evidence? So what, someone has to actually get hurt before it's considered a real crime?

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Worry clouded Celestine's eyes.

Denton sighed, resigned. "Those two came prepared. Everything happened too quickly. The club insists there's no security footage, and the glass with the drugs was destroyed."

"Mirabelle's right in the middle of the Magnolia Awards nominations. If this blows up, it could ruin her shot. Whoever's behind this is ruthless."

The Magnolia Awards—a major film and television gala hosted by Oceanview City. Winning it meant having real clout in the industry. Within the business, it was a symbol of true talent.

Mirabelle was only twenty-three. If she won, she'd be the youngest ever Best Actress, dethroning Joanna, who currently held that record.

Celestine understood. She changed tack. "Has Zeke checked in on her?"

"No," Denton replied, rubbing his forehead. "Mirabelle tried calling, but he's not picking up."

Hadn't she once been the same?

While Celestine was lost in thought, two swaggering men emerged from the police station.

"Well, well, Bob, isn't that the bitch who called the cops on us?" one jeered.

"That's her, alright! Got some nerve showing your face around here, sweetheart. Let me tell you, I've got powerful friends. Now that I'm out, you better watch your back!" the other sneered, his face twisted with malice.

Their lawyer trailed behind, silent and stone-faced.

"Call the cops a thousand times, ten thousand—it won't matter! I'll always walk free. People like me have protection!" Bob crowed, his voice oozing arrogance.

"Oh?" Celestine asked, feigning curiosity. "And who might that be?"

"Don't think you can trick me, honey! Just keep yourself pretty and wait for me!" The man grinned, revolting and triumphant.

Denton's fists clenched.

It was hard to imagine what Mirabelle had faced alone last night.

Celestine, unfazed, held her phone up and started playing an audio recording. "Alright then. If anything ever happens to me, you two will be the prime suspects. Whether you're involved or not, I'll be sure to let the police know all about you."