by McKenna Dean
I lifted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “Yes. Old family friend. Came to comfort her, don’t you know? And a childhood love rekindled.” I took a sip from my glass, wishing it was whiskey. It had been a long time since I’d longed for hard liquor.
Really, I didn’t have time for this foolishness.
“How romantic.” Mary’s coo was decidedly arch. “But I heard she’s moved back to Idaho? Or is it Montana?”
“Wyoming. Back to the cattle ranch. They own a ridiculous amount of land. The skiing is marvelous, and the views are to die for.”
Mary’s smile grew tight around the edges. She leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t know if you’re aware, given that you haven’t been around lately, but Tommy Stanford is enamored with someone else these days. In fact, you’ll probably run into them this weekend. A luscious brunette, a little older than him, but she could give Jane Russell a run for her money, if you know what I mean.”
“Thank God.”
My heartfelt relief took Mary by surprise, given the way her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. I hastened to explain. “I was hoping Tommy had forgotten all about me. I’m here with someone else.”
“Oh, really?”
The patent disbelief in her voice was infuriating, which is why I couldn’t help myself. “Yes. Richard’s around here somewhere. He went off in search of something to eat. If you see him, send him my way. He looks a bit like a young Cary Grant.”
I allowed myself a small smirk as I left her, moving off into the crowd once more. Let her chew on that.
Squeezing through clusters of revelers, I made my way around the ballroom, pausing to speak with old friends and acquaintances, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of the device depicted in the newspaper, or anything else suspicious, for that matter. I was just about to give it up for a lost cause and head off to check out some other rooms, when a knot of dancers parted, and I found myself face to face with Rian Stirling.
Smiling, he stepped forward with his hand outstretched. Plucking my clutch out of my grip, he set it aside at one of the dining tables. “Fancy meeting you here. May I have this dance?”
What else could I say but yes? I cast a backward glance at my purse, where my trusty ray gun resided, and then let him sweep me out onto the floor.
Chapter Fifteen
The band struck up a foxtrot as we stepped into the center of the room. It was fortunate the club catered to an older crowd as well as the younger set, for a swing number wouldn’t have suited my purposes. It’s possible to have a conversation during a foxtrot.
“I could start with the usual questions as to how you ended up in the Hamptons, but obviously, you know people here. So let’s skip to the more interesting part of the interrogation: what’s a Bright Young Thing like you doing working for Redclaw?” Stirling deftly spun me in a twirl.
“As long as you realize interrogations work both ways.” I found myself face-to-face with him again, staring into those tawny eyes. The resemblance between him and Ryker was uncanny. They had to be related. They had the same high cheekbones and a similar slant and shape to their eyes. But while Ryker’s eyes and hair were brown, Rian Stirling’s sable hair was almost black, which made the silver streak and the gold hazel of his eye color even more striking.
He lifted one eyebrow and his smile took a sardonic curve. “I can see why Ryker hired you. He likes spunk.” Before I could respond, he added, “Aren’t you a bit out of your depth here?”
I stiffened in his arms. Tempting as it was to storm off, I tamped down the flare of temper. He was my best lead so far. “I had my debut the same as most of the other women here. Graduated with honors from Bryn Mawr. My mother is one of the Wyoming Cartrights. My father might have lost all our money and blown his brains out, but I know the dance steps as well as anyone here.”
“My dear girl.” Stirling looked disconcerted. “I wasn’t referring to your social standing.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flamed so much they practically itched. I kept my eyes focused on his white bow tie. “What did you mean, then?”
We glided around the floor, skirting other couples in time to the music. “I was referring to you being here for the same reasons I am.”
“The Prentiss bridal shower?”
He laughed, as I thought he might. “Are you telling me you’re not here as a representative of Redclaw?”
“Are you telling me you’re here as an agent in competition with Redclaw?”
To his credit, he didn’t fumble a step, but his fingers tightened at my waist.
“Just what exactly do you know about me?” A purring quality to his voice made me look up. Though he looked as calm, with a pleasant smile on his face, the fine hair on the back of my neck lifted in response to that silky undertone.
This time, I met his gaze without backing down. “You’re Rian Stirling, a wealthy industrialist with a talent for creating unusual products, like the suit you sent to the office. You’re also Ryker’s brother. You used to work with Redclaw, but you don’t anymore. The rupture between you and Redclaw has strained your relationship with Ryker, but you still care about one another.”
I found myself pulled into his chest. Startled, I almost stepped on his toes. The intensity of his expression was that of an eagle spotting a mouse, and I swallowed hard.
“Half-brother, just to be clear. Ryker didn’t tell you any of this.”
It wasn’t a question.
“No.” My pulse pounded in my throat. Surely, he could hear it.
“Who’s been gossiping about me at Redclaw?” Speculation flared in his narrowed eyes, and I could almost see him running through the names of the staff in his mind.
“No one. Actually, they don’t speak of you at all.”
“Ah.” Without any indication of intent, we were somehow dancing again. “Then you know this how?”
I shrugged. “Observation. Speculation. A reasoned analysis of the information at hand.”
The song ended, and he escorted me back to the table. I was relieved to see my purse where I’d left it. He pulled out a chair for me, and a waiter appeared as if by magic with two glasses of champagne on a tray. Stirling accepted them with a silent nod and sat down beside me, handing me a glass in the process.
I set it on the table untouched.
“And what does your reasoned analysis tell you?” he asked with casual good humor. Somehow, I’d avoided a landmine.
I rested my hand on the clutch. The ray gun wasn’t shaking or trying to climb out of the bag. I wasn’t in any immediate danger. Or was I? Perhaps the little gun was playing possum to avoid Stirling’s attention.
“That you and Redclaw are at cross-purposes now. Your brother would like to trust you, but doesn’t—at least, not when it comes to the artifacts.”
His shrug was Gallic in nature, down to the sideways tip of his head and the purse of his lips. “Ryker and I don’t see eye to eye over the artifacts. I believe they exist for a reason, and since they require the shifter gene to work, they should be available to those who can use them. Not locked away in vaults where no one can make use of the technical advantages they bring.”
“Such as wealthy industrialists.”
He leaned back in his chair with a smile. “That’s how some industrialists become wealthy. But yes.”
Under the guise of lifting the champagne flute for a sip, I drew my clutch closer. “Given the fact only certain members of the population can—ah—make use of said devices, doesn’t that also mean going public with the existence of such people?”
Stirling’s lip curled, as though in remembrance of another conversation. “That’s another area where my brother and I disagree. Though I understand his point about not outing anyone who prefers to keep their abilities secret at this time. And since announcing that any shifters exist would in effect reveal the presence of shifters in general, secrecy remains in effect. How much has he told you, anyway?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that. T
his whole discussion feels a bit like consorting with the enemy.”
“Dear child, if I were your enemy, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I don’t think you realize the degree to which you’re in over your head here.” Only the amusement in his voice kept his words from chilling me to the bone. He picked an imaginary piece of lint off of his immaculate jacket and flicked it aside with a smile.
I did see his point, even if I didn’t like it. Casting a glance to either side to make sure no one overheard us, I leaned in and lowered my voice. “The appearance of the artifacts and the creation of new shifters is connected to the development of nuclear weapons. Redclaw serves to collect and study the artifacts while handling matters involving the shifter world.”
Stirling snorted. “That’s the company line. And the Council’s, for that matter. The older enclaves, the ones that pre-date the use of nuclear weapons, made a strong case for remaining hidden, and since they wield most of the money and power within the community, their word was law. Most of the new shifters are still trying to figure out their place in that community and our numbers are growing. Secrets get out sooner or later. I think it’s better we control the spin rather than let everyone think the worst and try to respond to their reaction. What do your famous powers of observation tell you?”
I chose my next words with great care, remembering my initial reaction when Ryker shared Redclaw’s mission with me. “Concentrating that much power, that great a technological advantage, in the hands of one organization has the potential to be disastrous if an honest man isn’t in charge. I believe your brother to be such a man, but he won’t always be head of Redclaw. At some point, he’ll retire. Then what?”
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Stirling’s lips held the suggestion of a smirk. “Lord Acton was right.”
“I’m familiar with the quotation. You make it sound as if you were there when it was first used.” I smiled to indicate I was joking, but something in his wry expression gave me pause.
Just how long did shifters live, anyway?
This conversation was getting me nowhere. Time to change my approach. “So tell me, Mr. Stirling, where does one purchase dragoncloth?”
“One doesn’t.” My question delighted him if his broad smile was any sign. “It’s a rare commodity that’s usually gifted to someone. I happen to have friends...in high places.”
Again, his statement felt as though it had a secondary meaning known only to him, which was annoying. I tackled the bull by the horns. “My powers of observation also tell me you’re here because of the missing shipment of artifacts. Someone here has them, don’t they?”
“Not just a pretty face then.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes, but he must have been able to tell from my expression I’d thought about it.
He continued smoothly. “And not just here for a bridal shower.” He set aside his half-emptied glass still bubbling with champagne, his eyes going flat and devoid of humor. “Let’s put our cards on the table, shall we? This isn’t a Nancy Drew mystery for you to solve. I meant it when I said you’re in over your head. Also, this is just a guess, but does my dear brother know you’re here?”
I was certain I didn’t react, but his next words proved me wrong.
“I thought not. It’s not like him to send someone as green as you off on a mission by themselves. I like you, Miss Bishop. Here’s some free advice. Redclaw isn’t the only agency interested in recovering those artifacts, and some of the people involved aren’t as nice as I am. I’m here for the artifacts. There’s quite the bidding war going on at the moment. Attend your friend’s shower and go home. This is none of your affair. Consider this your final warning.”
He rose to give me a little bow before moving off without a backward glance. I released my breath in a gush of air and grabbed my flute of champagne for a healthy swig. Maybe Stirling was right. Maybe I was in over my head. The smartest thing to do would be to find Knight and contact Ryker to let him know what was going on. Nodding to myself, I scooped up my clutch and started to rise when a familiar voice trilled my name behind me. Perfume enveloped me when plump, gleaming arms wrapped themselves around my shoulders.
“Oh, Rhett. You came!”
Twisting in my chair, I smiled weakly up at Em. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
She threw herself into the chair beside me and looked up to gaze with adoration at Eddie, who stood at her shoulder. “Be a pet and find someone with a tray of canapes. I’m famished, darling.”
Eddie unbent enough to give her a sappy smile and hurried off to do her bidding.
“A veritable knight in shining armor. He should wear your colors or something.” I watched Eddie’s progress across the ballroom, all the while keeping an eye out for Knight. It wasn’t long before our scheduled rendezvous. Now that I’d confirmed the artifacts were in the area, I needed to contact Ryker and let him decide how best to handle it.
“Oh, la.” Em waggled her fingers and blew a kiss at Eddie when he looked back over his shoulder. He mimed catching the kiss and putting it in the breast pocket of his tuxedo. “Eddie and I will get along famously. We understand each other. It’s the rest of the family I’m worried about. To be specific, the Hardcastle women. Tell me you’ll stay until the wedding. You can turn this thing around. I know you can.”
The wobble in her voice made me take a good look at her. To my surprise, her luminous eyes glinted with a hint of tears. I took her hand. “Em, what is it?”
She squeezed my hand but released it to dab at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I told you already. Eddie’s mother and sister are making a hash of the whole wedding. You can fix this, Rhett. You fix everything.”
“If you knew how much I’ve botched things lately, you wouldn’t say that.” Where was Knight, anyway? The room wasn’t so large that I shouldn’t have been able to spot him at least once.
“Looking for someone?” The dryness of Em’s tone forced my attention back on her again.
“I’m sorry. I’ve misplaced my date.” I sneaked a glance at my watch by reaching for my champagne flute.
“He exists! I was beginning to wonder. Not a very subtle move, Bishop. I saw you checking your watch.”
I shot her a grin. “We’re supposed to meet up in a few minutes. Speaking of subtle, Prentiss, was it your idea to put us in adjoining rooms, or did Halling think it was easier on the house guests not to have to traverse the mansion in the middle of the night?” It felt good to sit here with Em like this, bantering the way we used to in college.
Em’s answering smile brought out the dimple in her cheek and a wicked gleam in her eye. “Merely thinking of the mater and pater, don’t you know. I’d hate for one of you to run into dear Papa in the wee hours of the morning.”
“You needn’t worry about that. Kn—er, Richard, promised to be on his best behavior this weekend. So no midnight dalliances, thank you very much.”
“You disappoint me. I was hoping to live vicariously through you this weekend. Mother has put quite the kibosh on my spending too much time with Eddie before the wedding. It’s the only thing she’s put her foot down about. She doesn’t want the Hardcastles to get a bad opinion of me. I hate to tell her it’s too late for that.”
It wasn’t fair. Em had the most adorable pout. The same expression would look quite silly on me.
“They don’t hate you.”
“Hate’s not a strong enough word.” Em tucked her handkerchief back in her clutch. “They despise me. I’m not classy enough for their son. That’s why you have to take over the wedding arrangements.” She leaned forward and grasped my free hand. “Promise me you will. Hurry, before Eddie comes back.”
I gently disengaged my hand. “I can’t do that, sweetie. I’m just here for the weekend. Besides, you don’t need me. You’ve got all the class you need.”
Eddie’s sleek brown head bobbed among the dancers as he made his way back to the table, a waiter bearing a full tray of appetizers following
in his wake like a tugboat chasing a luxury liner.
“They’ll never approve of me.” Em wilted in her seat. “You they’d accept in a heartbeat.”
“Now you listen to me. I’m going to say this just once. You’re more than good enough for Edgar Stanley Hardcastle the Third. He thought well enough of you to ask you to marry him, after all.” I cut off her automatic outburst with a raised hand. “I’m not finished. You want to fix this? You need to go forward as you mean to go on in this marriage. It’s not just the ceremony—it’s the rest of your life. If you let them cow you now, make you feel small and insignificant, incapable of planning your own wedding, they’ll make your life miserable from here on out. You have impeccable taste, Em. Show them what you’re made of.”
Something I said lit a fire in her eyes. She narrowed them and nodded in firm agreement. “You know what? You’re absolutely right.”
“Of course I am.”
Em looked up at Eddie’s approach and offered him a hand with the languid grace of a satisfied cat. “Darling, how you spoil me.”
“Nothing less than you deserve, my dear.” Eddie took a seat beside Em and let the waiter place small plates filled with finger foods before us. As soon as he emptied his tray, the waiter departed.
“Exactly what I was just saying to her.” I cast a benevolent smile on Eddie.
His expression tightened around the lips as he smiled back, and he leaned over and whispered something in Em’s ear.
“Oh, yes. I’d almost forgotten.” Em paused in the act of lifting a canape to her mouth. “Eddie just reminded me. I only found out this evening. You know Tommy Stanford is seeing someone else, don’t you?”
Eddie winced and sent me an apologetic glance.
I waved my glass in an airy fashion. “Not to worry, so am I.”
The tension oozed out of Eddie’s posture, and then a small frown puckered his brow. “It’s not that fellow you were dancing with earlier, I hope?”
