by Liana Brooks
Wil shrugged. “Margo doesn’t like the interns any more than you do.” He tossed a padded tablet onto her desk. “Addison Mayfield called, she’s back in town and wants priority security at the soiree she’s attending tonight. Go check the venue. I’ll arrange the team.”
“Am I running point again?” Delilah asked as she opened Addison’s folder. The spoiled socialite didn’t need security, she needed a babysitter. Possibly a muzzle. Addison attracted trouble like flowers attracted bees.
“You’ll be inside with Emerret, Dylan, and Emelia doing perimeter. Chad will have a three-man crew in the communications van. If the intern’s free,” Wil said, pointing to Travys, “you can take him along. He can shadow Dylan for most the evening, get an idea of how these things go.”
Delilah turned to Travys. “Can you do that, or do you need to study?”
“I’m good. The only final I’m taking is in English, and that’s next Thursday.” He grinned. “Where we going?”
“A place where you’ll need a suit and proper grammar.” Delilah smiled up at her boss. “I’ll have the walk through done before lunch and be waiting for Addison to arrive at eight.”
“I knew you’d be happy about this,” Wil said.
Delilah let that one slide. Private security was the bread-and-butter of Subrosa Security. Addison might have been spoiled, but for a security team this large she was shelling out over a quarter of a million dollars for six hours of work. The salary was good, and the commission for working one of these jobs made it possible to buy all the finer things in life. “Come on, let’s head down to the museum.”
“The where?” Travys asked, following her out the door that swung shut and locked without being touched.
She picked her coat off the office coat-tree. “The Field Museum. They’re opening a display of the world’s largest gems tonight with a charity fundraiser. Tickets start in the five hundred dollar range. Dinner and drinks are another thousand. With the mid-term elections coming up, there will be a lot of schmoozing.”
“I like schmoozing,” Travys said agreeably.
Delilah cut him a look. “They won’t be schmoozing us. We’ll be the polite backdrop and stay out of the way.” She checked her watch. “Can you meet me there in thirty minutes? I have a little errand to run now that the dry cleaner is open.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Rolling her eyes, Delilah left Travys to find transportation for himself and took a cab over to Way Quick Cleaning, proprietor Mister Lee Way. The cab driver hunched over in his seat, a large flat cap covering his bulbous head. “I won’t be a moment,” she told him as she stepped out, not bothering to pay.
Having a super villain as a daddy came with certain perks. Freddie, the cab driver, was one of them. Her favorite minion, he was a five-foot-tall frog crossed with who-knew-what-else; made in her father’s lab. Completely dependable, able to drive, and good for tossing people around when she needed some muscle, the whole not-paying-cab-fares was a welcome bonus.
Mr. Way looked up from his e-print subscription tablet as she walked in. “Good morning, Miss Samson. Do you have something to drop off?”
“I do.” She held up a long, thin envelope. “Remember Ivan, the tall Russian with the dark hair?”
“The one with the bunged up nose?” Mr. Way frowned. “I’m not getting caught in a lover’s quarrel.”
“It’s nothing like that. Just business.”
“I don’t like that any better,” he said, refusing to reach for the envelope.
“All I’m asking you to do is stick this in his pocket.”
“How do you know I even have one his suits in?” Way asked.
“Because Ivan’s a very particular man, and this morning he would have brought in a slightly damp suit that he tried to wash it in Lake Michigan.”
Mr. Way’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How’d you hear about that?”
“It’s better if I don’t go into detail.” She pushed the envelope across the counter. “Tuck this into his pocket, please? And don’t bother mentioning it to Ivan. It’s nothing important.” Before Mr. Way could object, Delilah laid two hundred-dollar bills on the counter with a wink. “Have a good day, Mr. Way.”
Chapter Four
Dear Daddy,
No, I won’t bring you home any gems as a party favor. Not even the emerald.
Tsk tsk,
Delilah
Delilah left Addison Mayfield surrounded by a crowd of gawkers and circulated around the room. As a rule the Field Museum had excellent security, decent catering, and plenty of exquisite objects that made her itch for a little larceny. If she had somewhere to stash a T. Rex, Sue’s skeleton would already be in her apartment. As it was, she’d already bought the limited edition miniature Sue the museum was selling to fund whatever it was they’d been funding. Her eyes had glazed over at that point of the welcome speech.
These nights were all the same. Come in, spend cash, meet other rich people, talk shop, and drink moderately cheap wine. Eleven o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
It was strange that the research gene had skipped her so thoroughly. Daddy and Gideon would have been absolutely enraptured listening to someone yammer endlessly about a new expansion to the labs. She’d been more distracted by the sparkling exhibits in the Hall of Gems. In one corner the Moussaieff Red glittered near the Agra diamonds. The Heart of Eternity sat beside the Millennium Sapphire, beautiful blue-toned rainbows dancing around them. The star of the show sat in the center of the room on a lit plinth: the faceted, twenty-five pound emerald called Teodora.
Large as a watermelon, the Teodora certainly had an eye-catching quality. Delilah circled it lazily, keeping half an eye on Addison while admiring the craftsmanship that had gone into refining the giant stone. Flawless, time-consuming work. A galaxy of lighter colors rifted through the dark green inside of the gem. Mesmerizing.
Other people started filing in, champagne glasses in hand. Without turning from the emerald, Delilah looked for the telltale bulge or crease in a jacket that would give away a concealed weapon.
“The first protestors have arrived,” Chad whispered over her concealed earpiece. “None of them are on the watch list for the client.”
Delilah nodded, certain that Chad would see her on the cameras. The price of discretion was leaving her voice pickup with Travys for the evening. He was under strict instructions to come find her at the first whiff of trouble.
Protestors weren’t trouble, though; they were simply the accouterments of Chicago politics. Half of them were probably paid to make a mini-riot for the evening news and would leave within the hour. See and be seen. Stir up some interest, stir up some cash. The politicians would use the attention to woo new backers for whatever pet project they wanted funded next.
If anyone else had been paying attention they would have guessed the political structure of the city in less than ten minutes. Although Mayor Arámbula was conspicuous in his absence, his snake-eyed second-in-command, Alan Adale, was present and making the rounds. The moment she made eye contact he moved in like a heat-seeking missile.
She walked around the plinth, avoiding eye contact. The first time they’d met, Delilah had carefully filed him away as Too Dangerous To Handle. Lucifer had probably cried hot tears of envy when Adale was born. He had a sculpted masculine perfection and confident swagger that made everyone want to fall to their knees in worship, and one close encounter had been enough to send her scrambling for safety. She’d canceled every date, evaded him at every turn. But, like the devilish predator he was, he kept circling.
Pretty soon she’d need to whip out the big guns and flat out break his heart. Tease him on a little, then drop him like a rock. Dent his ego so he never bounced back her way again. After all, breaking hearts was far more fun than finding out she was just another anonymous booty call.
Adale stopped next to the display case, not completely immune to her ‘Don’t talk to me’ glare. He feigned interest in the cushion-cut American G
olden Topaz, glancing at the gem then up at her. Caught staring, Delilah turned away and focused on the Teodora. Lines of lighter green seemed to be moving in the smaragdine depths, rolling like waves before coalescing into spheres like eyes. Two large, bulbous eyes, blinking out at her from inside the Teodora.
Delilah almost gasped aloud. The size of the gem was right, but the color was unusual, as was the texture. Minion eggs were traditionally more gelatinous. Comfy, too. She’d used an egg mass as a reading chair one summer in high school.
The black and bronze display tag said the Teodora had been discovered in Brazil, cut in India, and had a cloud of rumors surrounding its authenticity. In the end, the stone had been donated to the Smithsonian by the beleaguered owner.
Brazil... Brazil... Daddy had taken them down there one summer when she was six or so. He’d done a week of guest lecturing at one of the universities, and they’d spent another month exploring the humid country while avoiding a cold snap in Texas. All she remembered was a blur of spontaneous decisions that spoke volumes about her mother’s unwillingness to sit through a Texas ice storm.
Considering the haphazard nature of life in the years after her mother’s kidnapping and return, it wasn’t hard to imagine Daddy losing an experiment. Or even leaving it behind on purpose. He probably thought it would be a fun joke.
“Beautiful,” said a low, very masculine voice behind her.
Delilah spun on her heel, professional smile firmly in place. “It’s a stunning gem.”
The deputy mayor looked down at her with cool green eyes. “I wasn’t talking about the stone.”
A fission of fear climbed up her spine. It was uncomfortable being the center of his focus. Most people were lazy; they chatted and grew distracted and never seemed to be really watching her. Adale’s emotionless gaze focused on her like a searchlight, stripping away the layers of deceit she used for protection. It was terrifying. He definitely had a future with the mob if the whole political career thing didn’t work out.
“You’re too kind.” Delilah took him by the arm and steered him away from the Teodora. “Have you been enjoying your evening?”
“It’s been uneventful so far. I missed having dinner with you last night.”
“An emergency at work. I did leave you a message.”
His hand covered hers. “Nothing terribly taxing I trust.”
Her pulse fluttered as his eyes filled with concern. “It left me with a bit of a headache, but I survived.” She wanted to unleash her skills on him there and then, drown him in the need to tell the truth and end the charade. But the political fallout of an honest evening would turn Chicago into a battleground. So she ground her teeth and kept the battle inside, reminding herself that she couldn’t trust him no matter how genuine he seemed.
“I didn’t bother rescheduling the reservations,” Adale said, removing his hand from hers. “Your work seems to keep you busy at every hour I can invent. Although, I confess, seeing you here improves my day considerably. This would be a dreary party without you.”
His smile cut through her like a laser. She shot him her own, full of knives. “Oh, I doubt that’s true. You were dancing attendance on Perri Lang earlier this evening.” Perri Lang, modern-day Lucrezia Borgia, whose father’s chemical plant and research labs only avoided closure because he greased palms throughout the city. Where money didn’t work, it was rumored his daughter’s attentions did.
Adale grinned self-depreciatingly. “Yes, I spoke with her. It was even less educational than usual, but I’m glad you noticed.”
“I didn’t notice.”
He raised an eyebrow as they stopped in front of a display of rings. “You said you saw me with Miss Lang.”
“I’m here with Addison Mayfield. Miss Lang and Miss Mayfield are...” Delilah search for the right words.
“Rivals?” Adale suggested.
Delilah exhaled. “More like two cats in heat fighting over a tom. Keeping them in the same county is a recipe for trouble. If I can keep them from causing a scene tonight, Addison’s father will pay me a bonus.” She fought the impulse to roll her eyes.
“How mercenary of you. Tell me, will the bonus be enough to allow you to take a week’s vacation? Maybe linger over a meal or two?”
“No.” She glanced back at the Teodora and the eyes watching her. Minion biology wasn’t her specialty, but if she recalled the development correctly, eyes appeared in the week before hatching.
Adale sighed. “You seem distracted. Am I boring you?”
“Hmm? Oh. No.” Delilah stopped scanning the room for security cameras. There were still three hours left of the party. Give the crew a few hours to clean up, and she could be back here by three in the morning. Walk in, break the glass, grab the emerald, run out... No, she probably needed to cut the power to the cameras first. Infuriating.
“It’s all right. I understand if you’re not interested. Perhaps you like dark-haired men? I think the head of Alrosa is here, the Russian diamond company. He might be your type. Let’s see. Ah, yes, over there in the corner.”
Delilah scanned the room and spotted the mustached Russian with Ivan Petrovich at his elbow. If looks could kill, Ivan’s would have put her in an early grave.
Adale leaned a little closer. “Why is that gentleman glaring at us? Jealousy, perhaps?”
Ivan’s eyes narrowed as he ran a hand down the line of his suit jacket. The very same suit he’d worn the night before. He must have gotten her note.
She winked at Ivan. Time to move the party downstairs where there were more exits. It didn’t matter if the deputy mayor looked like a cold-blooded hit man, he wasn’t. There would be serious repercussions if she let her two lives cross streams.
Delilah turned to beam at Adale. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of me? I have the most handsome man in the room at my side. Let me buy you a drink, to make up for shamefully neglecting you last night.”
Adale’s smirk threatened to turn into a smile. “I’m being used, but I don’t know what for.”
“Enjoy the attention while it lasts,” Delilah said, steering him out of the room. Dylan and Travys passed her, casually chatting as they followed Addison.
“Problems?” Chad whispered in her ear.
Delilah nodded which drew Adale’s gaze.
“Something wrong?” he echoed Chad’s question with bland amusement.
“Not at all.” They walked down the grand staircase like Prince Charming and his sinister Cinderella. Everyone watched. For the first time in her life, Delilah felt like actual arm-candy. Alan Adale had enough force of presence that people looked at him whether they intended to or not, and she was his decoration of the evening.
Miss Lang’s ears were probably steaming with rage.
As they approached the open bar surrounded by gossiping socialites, the caterer’s door burst open and Detective Morrow stalked in, a man on a mission.
“Deputy Mayor,” Morrow said as he made a beeline for them. “I need to have a word with you.”
“Detective.” Adale gently untangled his arm from Delilah’s. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
“Can we step outside for a minute?”
Delilah grabbed two glasses of alcohol and followed. No one had specifically forbidden her from coming along. That made it practically an invitation. The door swung shut behind her and she stopped short as she heard Morrow’s voice.
“The mayor is dead.”
“Are you sure?” Adale sounded as shocked as she felt.
In the dark, Detective Morrow shook his head. “Alive people have more face left.”
Chapter Five
Dear Daddy,
I need the book on minion hatching and rearing that Hert wrote. I’d also like to see your field and research notes from every trip to Brazil. There’s a slight possibility you left an invasive species near an emerald mine. Does that ring any bells?
Don’t ask,
D
Delilah floated through the crowded gem room toward Addison
with a polite smile frozen in place. Dead mayors, protestors, and hitmen all at the same party was more than her contract covered.
Ivan stepped in front of her. “Miss Samson.”
“Hello. Goodbye.” She stepped around him.
He followed her. “You need to leave.”
“Working on it.”
“Town.”
Delilah stared up at him. “Excuse me? Was that a threat?” The couple nearest them turned around. With a brittle smile, she grabbed Ivan’s arm hard enough to leave a bruise and pulled him into the corner. “You don’t threaten me. Ever. I’m a little too busy to pay you back for last night, but I promise, it’s coming.”
She turned to go, and he caught her arm. “Delilah.” It was a whisper meant for her ears alone. “Trouble is coming to town. A hunter who likes big game. Subrosa doesn’t have the resources for this.”
With a soft smile that could have melted the coldest hearts, she whispered back, “Drop dead, Ivan. It’ll save me the trouble of getting another pair of boots dirty.” She batted her eyelashes.
With a few quick strides that stretched the clingy skirt of her gown to its limits, she caught up with her quarry. “Addison, darling, come with me a moment. There’s someone you simply must meet.” She brushed away the various sycophants and snatched Addison’s glass from her hand. The fumes rising up explained Addison’s wobbly walk. “Did you bring a flask of vodka again?”
Addison giggled as Dylan and Travys fell in line behind her.
Delilah shoved the glass at her intern. “Drop that with one of the wait staff and meet us at the back door.”
“What’s going on?” Dylan demanded.
“The blond man in there? That’s Ivan Petrovich, a known mob operative. The client’s father is rumored to owe them money, and she’d make lovely ransom bait.” Grabbing Addison by the shoulders, Delilah steered her to the back door. “We’re moving out now. Alert her overnight team. Tell them to meet us at the house.”
