"What happened to you?" Earl growled.
Jace jerked at his voice. "I—I hurt my head."
"I can see that. How?"
"I—" Don't know. "Hit it on the corner of a cabinet." Or maybe in my car? She kept thinking it had something to do with driving, but though her bumper might be a little crooked, she could see no other sign of damage.
But neither could she remember the cut, nor the bandaging.
Or the whole of one night. Only snippets, nothing more than pieces of dreams. The last thing she recalled clearly was visiting Dante's greenhouse.
Dante? When had she started thinking of him by his first name? Why did his face appear to her, bending over her in sorrow...face tight in longing?
Earl grunted. "What are you working on?"
"What?"
"You need to go back home, Jace, or you gonna join the rest of us here today?"
She shook her head and winced. "Sorry. Got a lot on my mind." Straightening, she drew in a deep breath. "I want to subpoena Dante Sabanne's phone records."
Earl frowned. "Why?"
Because I think he lied to me when he said he'd only heard of The Club? Because he's growing datura and other little poisons in that greenhouse of his?
Because when they touched, weird things happened, things that just could not be?
He haunted her, and she didn't understand the reason. "Just a hunch. I got a note."
"About him?"
Jace rubbed her forehead absently, trying to figure out how much to tell Earl. "It said that he knows more than he's telling."
"Where did you find it?"
She dodged Earl's eyes. "On my pillow."
He sat down heavily on the corner of her desk. "Go on."
"I got it dusted. It came up clean." She frowned. "I'm going to have to talk to him again. Victor said he can't identify a spike in his readings with their equipment. He suggested asking Sabanne for help."
"What for?"
"Victor thinks that some of his wealth comes from a big pharmaceutical firm in Europe. He says he could probably get the tests done for us."
"And what does Sabanne say?"
Jace drew a deep breath. "I haven't asked him."
"But you will." Not a question.
"I—I don't know." She was compelled to see him again, yet the thought unnerved her. Come on, Jace. You said you could play with the big boys. "How can I if... I mean, we need him. And every public official in the state knows him."
"You really think he's a suspect?" Earl was clearly incredulous, yet they both knew human nature was unpredictable. Not many people looked like obvious criminals. "You got anything to convince a judge?"
"He's growing datura in his greenhouse." At his incomprehension, she explained. "Scopolamine, hyoscamine, atropine. It's a plant that contains all three."
Earl whistled through his teeth. "But what's his motive?"
Jace sighed. "To kill an old hippie and a young girl? Doesn't make much sense, when he's got all the money in the world and is an acknowledged expert on poisons. He's far too intelligent to be so blatant."
"But?"
"I don't know. I just—" Something about that mask in his library... She lifted her palms. "I've heard about this new cult that Sam Sunshine might have joined."
"What does that have to do with Sabanne?"
"He's also interested in ancient rituals and religions."
Earl frowned. "So? What's the connection?"
"Cults have rituals, don't they?" At Earl's nod, she continued. "What if Sam took something that killed him?"
"Like what? This datura stuff? You know anybody who's inside? Any leads?"
My brother? She couldn't throw Jimmy to the wolves. "Just...rumors. Nothing I can lay my hands on yet."
"Pretty thin, if you ask me. How does that tie with the girl who died at The Club?"
"Do we know for sure that's where she was?"
"Girlfriend of hers confirms that she was headed there that night. We know that it was held in the next building over from where she was found—looks pretty solid. Girlfriend was supposed to go, too, but she got grounded."
"So besides some weed and one compound nobody can identify, we have nothing to link Sam and Sarah Brown?"
"Not yet, we don't." He stared at her meaningfully.
Jace sighed. "You still want me to ask Sabanne about getting the lab tests done." She lifted her eyebrows. "Want to go with me?"
"This guy bother you?"
Yes.
But you wanted the big time, Jace.
"I'll be fine." She'd have to be.
"Captain wants you to make another visit to The Club. You okay with that?"
This is where she should admit that she'd already been back there. Her stomach twisted at the thought of returning, but it had to be done. "Yeah. Somebody there must have seen the girl that night." She'd do her job, and she wouldn't let her imagination run crazy, either.
Earl stood up. "You think it's too big a risk, letting Sabanne get involved with the testing?"
Jace stared down at her hands. "Let's see what his reaction is to the request. If we can't find other options, I'll make sure Victor takes control and monitors the testing."
"Halliday goes inside with you at The Club, Jace." Earl grinned. "His heart is young. The strain of your short skirts won't kill him."
Jace rolled her eyes. "Thanks a lot."
But after he left, she stared at the desktop, deeply uneasy at the thought of contacting Dante. Sabanne, she corrected.
A shadow fell across her desk, and she looked up into vivid blue eyes. "Gabriel." She struggled to keep her voice even.
His knuckles grazed the surface. "How are you, Jace?" Nodding at her bandage, he asked, "What happened?"
She touched it gingerly, keeping her tone blasé. "Hit it on my kitchen cabinet. Not too swift."
Gabriel shifted his hands into his pockets and jingled his change. "So, how's it going?"
"All right, I guess."
His gaze bored into her. "You look troubled."
A sudden urge to unburden herself swamped Jace. He seemed so familiar, suddenly, solid and real. Her world was all shifting sands lately.
But what could she say to him? There's this man I can't get out of my mind? I feel almost possessed by him? I've lost a whole night of my life—or maybe my mind?
She couldn't involve him. Couldn't flee to Gabriel simply because he was safe. So she dodged. "It's Jimmy. I think he's in trouble, and I can't find him. None of the patrol units have spotted him, either."
"He's a big boy, Jace. I keep telling you you're not his mother."
But I am, in all the ways that count. "He needs me."
"Get real. How many guys like him have we both run across? Nothing you say will change him."
"You've never been responsible for anyone, have you, Gabriel?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
She looked away. He'd never understood.
"Listen, I only want to help you. I'm worried about you, damn it."
"I didn't ask for either."
He went rigid. "That's clear enough."
Damn it, she'd hurt him, and he deserved better. "Gabriel, I—"
His eyes darkened, his shoulders settling into resignation. "You would call me if you needed me, right?"
She almost reached for his hand, but quickly withdrew. "Yeah...thanks."
She focused on her printout until she heard his footsteps disappear.
But the print was blurred.
* * *
She'd been a prisoner in her room for two days now, Cassie fumed. Dante was nowhere to be found, at least that's what Manolo was telling her.
She'd had it. If only she could call someone, but she wouldn't put it past Dante to be recording her phone calls—and all because she'd been to The Club. Sheesh. If he'd just give her a chance to explain, she could tell him nothing had happened.
Well, nothing serious. The blond man had kissed her—Cassie touched one hand to her lips, re
membering how it had felt. She couldn't understand the faint note of fear echoing in her mind. The kiss had been nice—well, sort of nice.
Jimmy's yelling bounced around in her brain. Anyone but him...he's dangerous.
Just what she needed, another guardian. Cassie rubbed her temples and stared at the phone. She wanted to call Markos, but...
She stamped her foot hard on the floor. Dante couldn't do this to her. She'd call the police and tell them her brother was holding her hostage.
As if anyone would believe that when he's got more money than God, Cassie. He could pay off the whole department and who'd listen to you?
Whatever happened to the Dante who used to carry a little girl around on his shoulders? He once was her favorite companion, the one who always had time to play.
Not anymore.
She'd go out of her mind if she had to stay in here one second longer. Marching to the door, Cassie decided to tell Manolo to go ahead and shoot her if he didn't want her leaving the room.
He wouldn't. The worst he could do was pick her up bodily and lock her inside, but she could run pretty fast. Maybe if she got downstairs and told Mrs. Montoya—
Mrs. Montoya would side with Dante, she was sure, but she had to try something. The walls were closing in. Grabbing the doorknob and twisting, Cassie tensed in anticipation as the door swung open.
Manolo wasn't there.
Wrinkling her forehead, she didn't pause to ponder. Instead, Cassie raced down the stairs toward the kitchen.
Manolo appeared at the bottom, coffee cup in hand. His eyebrows lifted slightly. She hesitated but kept moving.
"I'm going crazy in there, Manolo. Go ahead and shoot me, but I'm not going back."
Impassive as ever, the huge man merely shrugged. "Boss said he wants to talk to you."
"Now?"
"He'll be back later today."
Cassie didn't care if she ever saw Dante again—except that she also wanted to claw his eyes out for doing this to her. Most of all, though, she wanted to leave.
What's stopping you? Jimmy's voice echoed. You're in bondage to your lifestyle.
Glancing around at the splendor of Dante's home, she realized that Jimmy was right.
Had been right. But somehow, very soon, she was leaving. She didn't know what she'd do or where she'd go, but she couldn't live like this.
Maybe Markos would help.
Lifting her chin, she eyed Manolo. "Fine. I'll talk to him later. But I'm not returning to my room."
He merely nodded and stepped to the side. "Boss says it's okay for you to come down today."
Boss says, does he? Well, he wasn't her boss. Not for one second longer than it took her to find a way out. Hearing voices in the kitchen, Cassie moved that way, hoping Melinda was visiting her grandmother today. She'd sworn not to involve Melinda in anything else, but she was desperate.
Walking through the door, her spirits sank when she realized it was Melinda's Aunt Antonia whose voice she'd heard.
Mrs. Montoya turned. "Buenas días, Cassandra. Are you hungry?" Her kind eyes said she sympathized.
Cassie shook her head. "No, thank you, Mrs. Montoya. I was hoping—is Melinda here?"
"No, I'm afraid not. Señor Dante has asked her not to visit for a while."
Her fury almost blocked out Antonia's greeting.
"Hello, Cassandra. How are you adjusting to life in Santa Fe?" Something in the woman's dark eyes hinted of intimate knowledge of her situation.
Cassie frowned, then remembered seeing Antonia conversing intently with Markos at his party. Could he have mentioned her? Surely not—he wouldn't betray her. Markos was her friend.
She caught her breath. Markos was Antonia's friend. Maybe she'd help Cassie get word to him. Suddenly a woman she'd wanted to avoid started to look like her salvation. "It's been...challenging."
Antonia's elegant brows arched. "Oh? Is there something I can do to help?"
Cassie cut a quick glance over at her brother's housekeeper. Antonia seemed to understand that they could not speak freely in front of Mrs. Montoya.
"I—oh, not really. It's just, you know, making new friends, learning my way around, that sort of thing." She wished she knew how to get Antonia alone.
The older woman rose from the stool where she'd sat, watching her mother work. Moving to Cassie's side, Antonia placed one arm around her shoulders and squeezed gently.
"Poor dear," Antonia's low, husky voice purred. "Perhaps we could visit a little before I have to go...say, in the greenhouse? You don't mind, do you, Mama? I need to get back to the office."
"Of course not, mija." Mrs. Montoya turned around, wiping her hands on her apron.
Antonia kissed her mother's cheek. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Mama." The she slipped one arm through Cassie's and walked down the hallway leading to the greenhouse.
A statuesque siren, Antonia had the strong profile of an Aztec goddess. A bronze silk dress draped her curves with loving care. Her jewelry mixed turquoise and copper with an earthy, exotic flair that only made her more glamorous. Somehow Cassie felt stronger, just being with her, as if maybe she'd found an ally to help her take the first steps from beneath Dante's suffocating wings.
"I understand you've been a bad girl, Cassandra."
Cassie readied her defense, then noted the amusement in Antonia's eyes and pitched her own voice low. "You'd think I'd murdered someone. He's keeping me under house arrest like some criminal."
"Perhaps he's only looking out for you, dear."
"I hate him. He's arrogant and cruel and cares nothing about me."
"Tut-tut," Antonia clucked her tongue. "I'm sure Dante is merely trying to protect you."
"From what? Living life?" Cassie heard her voice turn shrill and altered it. "Please, can you help me get out of here? I need to see Markos."
A spark flashed in the dark eyes. "Markos, is it?"
Cassie retreated from Antonia's grasp. "We—we're just friends. He said that if I wanted to go out on my own, he'd help me."
"What sort of help did you have in mind, Cassandra?"
She wished Antonia would stop using that name, but now was not the time to offend her. She was walking on quicksand. "I don't really know."
"You're such an infant."
Cassie's temper sparked. "How am I supposed to grow up when no one will let me think for myself?"
"Is that why you went to The Club?"
"Does everyone in Santa Fe know about that?"
Antonia chuckled. "I doubt it, but I have ears in the household." She studied Cassie carefully. "Tell me, what did you think about it?"
"Have you ever been there?"
"Oh, yes." Antonia's smile held secrets and memories.
"Then you know. It's—I can't explain it." Cassie stared off into space, reliving the pulse beat of excitement, the shimmer of forbidden secrets.
"You met someone there."
Cassie gasped. "How did you know?"
"I've been young." She smiled. "What was he like?"
They strolled through the plants. "He kissed me." She turned to see Antonia's gaze narrowing. "It was my first kiss." Cassie grimaced. "I do sound childish, don't I?"
"You've been sheltered."
"I know that, but it wasn't my choice. I didn't ask to be cooped up for the last six years. I certainly didn't ask to become a prisoner in my room."
"Would you like to leave?"
Hope surged. "Would you help me?"
"Of course, I will, little one." Antonia ran one finger beneath the curve of Cassie's hair where it draped over her forehead.
"When?"
The older woman's eyes gleamed. "Why not now?"
"Now?"
"Didn't I hear Manolo say that Dante is due back soon?"
"But I—I need to pack—"
"Cassandra, do you honestly think he will let you walk out of here, suitcase in hand? If you want to leave, it will have to be now."
"But how?"
Antonia looked across the green
house. "That doorway leads outside, doesn't it?"
Cassie nodded.
"I'll return the way I came. You leave through that door and walk to the driveway but stay hidden. I'll unlock my trunk, then remember something I need to tell my mother. I'll visit with her and Manolo for a few minutes. You slip inside the trunk."
"Will it work?"
"Do you have any better ideas?"
"Where will I go?"
Antonia smiled. "I have just the place. Don't worry a bit."
Cassie hugged her. She was making a break for it! She'd be free of Dante, at last.
She wished she could take a few things with her, but Antonia was right. Now or never.
Maybe someday when she'd established herself, she would come back and have it out with Dante. He'd acknowledge how very wrong he'd been to smother her this way. She was old enough to take care of herself, and someday he'd admit that.
But that was someday. Right now she had a new life to begin.
Please, Markos, I need you.
Cassie wasn't sure what she'd do if he wasn't serious about helping, but she'd think of something.
She wasn't a child, no matter what Dante thought. She slipped out the doorway and took her first steps toward freedom.
* * *
Surreal. It was the only way Jace knew to describe driving up to Sabanne's estate again that afternoon. Nerves battled with an obsession to unravel his mystery. To figure out, once and for all, what made him impossible to forget.
Worse than that, however, something in her responded to him at a level so primal it scared the shit out of her—and made her mad as hell.
She didn't get it, this loss of control. Men did not intimidate her, as a rule. She worked with them all the time, understood them as much as any woman could, had managed to dissolve the male/female barriers that made life so hard. She'd busted her ass to become one of the guys.
Yet Dante Sabanne had flipped everything on its head. Had her questioning the most fundamental aspects of herself, and that was without going into some sort of trance every time they touched.
He'd lied to her, she was virtually certain. Why she couldn't simply ignore him made no sense. That she was in danger of losing her focus on this first, crucial case made her crazy. God, how she wished she could get the toxicology tests done some other way—any other way.
Enough of this bullshit. New day, new game, Jace.
So Tempting Page 18
