by Brenda Novak
A woman’s laughter filled the air.
“And his date,” he added. “Shelly.” He leaned in closer to her. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Why the hell are you looking at me as if you don’t even know who I am?”
“I saw a murder tonight,” she whispered.
“What?”
Order of the Pharaohs. “And I want to find that killer.” She spun on her heel. “Give me five minutes.”
She had a ball to attend.
Because the killer might be there…and if he is, I want to find him.
***
Ivy DuLane was trouble. Always had been, for as long as he could remember.
Did she really think no one would notice her? The damn woman couldn’t go any place without being noticed.
Bennett put his hands on his hips and glared up at the escalator. Its occupants were slowly descending to the ground level of the convention center, a line of women in their designer dresses and men in their tuxes—with tails. The men had perfectly knotted bow ties. The women had dresses that fit like gloves.
And right in the middle of that crush, wearing a green gown with a slit that exposed far too much of her gorgeous leg…was Ivy.
She was supposed to be home, safe!
Instead, she was walking right into danger, and damn if the woman wasn’t on the arm of a bozo wearing a white mask. A mask that far too many other men at that ball were also wearing.
As soon as she reached the ground level, Bennett stalked right toward her. Fury pumped through him. Did she think this was all some kind of game? The woman was crazy, way out of her league.
He stepped into her path.
Her eyes widened. Eyes now lined with shadow and mascara. Eyes that looked even darker than he remembered.
“Hey, buddy,” the guy in the mask began. “You need to step—”
“Cameron,” she said smoothly, “you remember Bennett Morgan.”
Cameron? Oh, hell, not Cameron Wilde.
“Ben?” Cameron’s golden eyes glinted behind his mask. “Almost didn’t recognize you, buddy!”
I’m not the one wearing a mask. And I am not even close to being your buddy.
Cameron slapped his hand on Bennett’s shoulder. “It’s been too long.”
Actually, Bennett rather thought it hadn’t been long enough. “She shouldn’t be here.”
Over their shoulder, he spotted the other couple. Ivy’s twin brother Hugh and a curvy redhead. Hugh didn’t look overly happy to see him. Not surprising, really. Hugh had once ordered him to stay the hell away from his sister.
Bennett had stayed away, for a time.
But he was back, and everything was about to change.
He reached for Ivy’s hand. “When I send you home with police protection, you’re supposed to stay home.” He walked right around to the other escalator—the one that would take her back up to the second level and away from the crush of people. “You’re not supposed to just stroll in here and—”
“You think the killer might be here, too, right?” Ivy asked.
For an instant, his eyes squeezed closed. Maybe he should have anticipated that she’d show up there. It had really only been a matter of time before she connected the guy’s white mask with the Order of Pharaoh’s ball.
Bennett had made the connection as soon as she told him about the mask, and he’d known that he would be scouting around that ball scene.
“When I saw Cameron’s mask, I knew the guy could be here tonight,” Ivy added.
His eyes snapped open. “And, what?” Bennett growled. “You thought you’d use yourself as bait here to lure out the killer?”
She blinked at him. “Oh, jeez, I hope not. I just thought I could look around and see if I saw any guys who matched his description.” She motioned to Cameron, and—as pretty much always—the guy bounded to her side.
Some things never change.
“You know identities are supposed to be kept secret in the societies,” she said.
God save him from this lunacy…Yes, he knew that.
“But since Cam is in the society, I thought he could identify anyone I saw—you know, men who fit the killer’s description. And when I knew who they were, I was going to call you.” She smiled at him. A big, wide grin that flashed the dimple in her left cheek. “Because, you know, I have your number.”
This had to stop. Absolutely stop. He felt like she was driving him to the edge of sanity.
His hold tightened on her. “You aren’t a cop.”
Her smile dimmed a bit. “I don’t remember claiming to be one. I am a PI, though. And private investigators…investigate. It’s kind of what we do. We don’t just sit at home and wait for someone else to solve all the crimes.”
Bennett could actually feel his blood pressure rising. “That woman was stabbed, Ivy. Again and again.”
She swallowed. “I know that.”
Cameron put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Bennett wanted to shove that hand away. Instead, he said, “This isn’t some game.” He looked at their group in disgust. “You’re all in way over your heads, and it’s time to go home. The party’s over.”
Hugh squared his shoulders. “I have a ticket to this ball. Do you, Detective?”
No, but he had his badge, and that would damn well be good enough.
“The only place I’m going,” Hugh continued, “is to get Shelly a drink.” He lifted the redhead’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Shall we, my love?”
And the guy just strode away with his date, totally ignoring Bennett’s orders.
His eyes narrowed as he glared after Ivy’s twin. Mental note…Hugh was still an asshole.
And that left…
He focused on Ivy and Cameron. The couple most likely to wind up married, only they weren’t married. At least, some people had sure thought that. But those people had been wrong.
So was I.
“Ivy,” he began.
“I can’t get her out of my head,” Ivy said, her voice both soft and sad. Her smile was gone now. “I just wanted to look—I needed to look around. I was already scheduled to come to this ball, and when I figured out the link…Bennett, she was wearing her ball gown. She was supposed to be here tonight!”
Yes, that was why he had officers canvasing the convention center. That was why he was there. “I figured that out. I don’t need Nancy Would-Be Drew helping me run my case.” Especially when that help would just put her in danger. “Go home,” he ordered.
“Just let me look around!” She obviously wasn’t backing down. Same old Ivy.
Cameron pressed closer to them. “I don’t like the way you’re talking to Ivy.”
And he didn’t like the way that the guy was so close to her. They could both just be unhappy.
“I’m the only witness, remember?” Ivy pushed. “I’m here, let me look.”
Dammit…fine. She was the witness. And as much as he wanted to do it, he couldn’t physically carry her out. The PD wouldn’t go for that. “You stay at my side. Every single moment, got it? We look, but we look together.”
Her smile flashed again. “Thank you!”
“And Cameron…”
The guy’s brows climbed.
“You know everyone in the society?”
“I do,” he said at once, “but…you should realize anyone could have bought that mask. They’re sold at every party shop in town.” He waved his hand to the thick throng around them. “And you can rent a tux from dozens of shops. Get a ticket, get your tux…and boom, you’re set.”
Bennett knew that. With Mardi Gras season hitting hard, everyone seemed to be sporting a mask of some kind, and that kind of anonymity just worked to help the perp keep his identity hidden. The mayor was already freaking out. Murders during Mardi Gras were not good business, and he’d ordered Bennett to this ball before the ME had even loaded the victim’s body into the van.
The mayor was hoping Bennett would see something there tonight that would help him. And maybe…w
ith Ivy at his side, he just might.
“I’ll go join Hugh for that drink,” Cameron muttered. “When you need me, Ivy, come find me at the ice sculpture. The one of the giant Sphinx.”
Bennett knew that sculpture—he’d seen it a few minutes before. It was the one next to the whiskey table…the free booze rolled nearly all night long at the balls.
Mardi Gras balls were always popular—too popular. This particular event was one of the biggest, with over four thousand tickets sold. The mayor had been the one to glumly tell Bennett that news. And since no names were taken down when the tickets were sold, he was looking at a pretty giant suspect pool.
Cameron inclined his head to Ivy then vanished into the crowd.
She stared at Bennett.
He tried to yank his gaze from her.
“We’re not together,” she blurted. “Cameron and I aren’t an item or anything like that.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t ask.” But he’d sure wanted to.
“Cameron and I are friends, nothing more. He needed a date, and in a weak moment, I agreed. Then when he showed up at my door tonight, wearing that tux and mask…” For an instant, fear flickered in her gaze. “I was scared of him. I thought—”
That the killer had found her.
His fingers slid down and curled around hers. Not keeping her hand captive any longer, but now, almost caressing her.
“You kind of stick out,” Ivy told him, her mouth hitching into a half-smile. “You’re the only man here not wearing a tux.”
No, he didn’t have on a tux. He was wearing his jeans and loose shirt—he’d been off-duty when he first saw her getting pushed toward the back of the patrol car. Hell, how long ago had that been? The night was moving at super speed, and he was struggling to catch up. His left hand tapped against the badge he’d clipped to his belt. “This is the only thing I needed to wear in order to get inside.” Besides, his men were there, too. In police uniform, not tuxes.
“Let’s start searching,” she said briskly.
He nodded, but he wasn’t holding out much hope. The mayor had ordered him there, all right, but it wasn’t as if a bright shining light would just fall on their perp.
In that crush…finding him would be a miracle. Too bad he’d stopped believing in those long ago.
Back when he’d lost Ivy.
***
They were fools. Drunk, stupid prey. The women swayed in their ridiculously high heels and barely breathed in their skin-tight dresses. His gaze swept over them all, hating them. The men were no better. Too loud. Too drunk.
Too easy to kill.
He took a drink of the whiskey and let it slide down his throat, barely feeling that burn as his fingers lifted to touch the ice sculpture right next to him. His hand trailed along the Sphinx, and he smiled.
“Cameron,” he murmured to the man who’d just appeared next to him. “Buddy, it’s been too long…”
Cameron, still wearing his mask, turned toward him and smiled.
Too easy.
“You’ve got to tell me…just who is that gorgeous woman I saw on your arm a few moments ago?”
Cameron’s smile stretched even more. “Ah, you’ve got to be talking about Ivy…”
Ivy. He liked that name.
“Ivy DuLane.” Cameron downed his whiskey in a quick gulp and motioned for another glass. The whiskey was poured into the ice sculpture—it slid around the tube inside and then fell into Cameron’s glass, coming right out of the Sphinx’s mouth. “I’ll be sure to introduce you later.”
Oh, I’d like that. “But it looked as if you lost her…” He gave the other man a commiserating glance. “She ran off…?”
With the cop. He’d seen the badge and he’d realized that trouble had come his way.
Cameron laughed, not seeming even a little offended. The guy was talking way too freely. Maybe because of the drinks. Maybe because he was just an overconfident fool.
“Ivy’s just—” Cameron stopped. “She’s chatting with an old friend. No harm, no foul.”
An old friend who happened to be a cop.
He lifted his whiskey. Downed it fast. And kept his eyes on Ivy.
Hello, lovely. We’re going to have so much fun together.
Because she wasn’t like the others. He didn’t think there would be anything easy about her. About time.
***
“It’s not like I’m a civilian, you know,” Ivy muttered as she pushed her way through the crush of bodies at the ball. Her gaze slid to the left and to the right. There were more men in white masks all around her. But that one was too thin…that one was too short… “Or did you forget that I obtained my PI’s license when I was twenty-one?” That whole Nancy Drew line of his had seriously grated. Her grandfather had run DuLane Investigations for over fifty years, and she’d been eager to take up her place at his side.
Then the whole world had come crashing down on her.
But she’d built that world back, piece by piece. Without Bennett.
“I haven’t forgotten anything about you,” Bennett said softly.
His words pulled her gaze toward him. “And I didn’t forget you.” Despite her best efforts. She’d tried to move the hell on, but it was hard—especially when your heart was buried in the past.
“I have to know something.” His voice rumbled as he kept staring at her with that heated green stare of his. “It’s not the right time, not the right place…”
No, because they were supposed to be looking for a killer.
“But do you hate me, Ivy?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she gave a hard, quick shake of her head. “Of course not! I could never hate you.”
Some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders.
“Why does it matter how I feel?” Ivy asked him, driven to know this.
“Because you matter. You always have. You always will.”
Shock rolled through her.
Bennett glanced away from her. “Let’s check the ballroom.”
Wait—that was it? No more personal sharing? Now they were on to the ballroom? She shook her head and followed after him. He’d better not try to play his mind games with her. She wasn’t the game playing type. He’d learn that fact, very soon.
They were in the area known as the “back hall”, a long stretch full of tables and makeshift bars. The drinks were free and flowing heavily in this section, and they had to dodge the bar lines in order to gain access to the darkened ballroom.
Once they got into the main ballroom, she saw a band performing on the stage—music blared out, echoing through the cavernous room. Disco lights swept the scene every few moments. As heavy as the crush had been in the back hall, attendance was pretty sparse in that ballroom.
There were several hundred tables set up in the area, and some caterers were preparing the food, but after being in the madness of the back hall, this place—and its relative peace—was almost a relief.
“When we find out the victim’s identity, then we’ll be closer to knowing our killer,” Bennett said.
She nodded, knowing his words were true. Her shoulder brushed against Bennett. “There,” she said, pointing to the man in the white mask who was standing to the side, no date in sight. “He’s the right height, the right weight…”
And he seemed to be looking right at her.
Actually, he was striding toward her as she watched him.
She felt Bennett tense against her.
The man in the mask was closing in fast. “Hello, there…” The guy’s voice hitched up, sounding a bit on the drunk side. “Want to dance?” He offered his hand to her.
Bennett moved in front of her. “No, she damn well doesn’t,” he said immediately. “Who the hell are you?”
The guy in the mask weaved. “No names…” His eyes crinkled a bit behind the holes in his mask. “That’s how it works.”
“The hell it does,” Bennett fired back.
Um, the plan had been for Cameron to
identify potential suspects. Bennett didn’t need—
Bennett snatched the mask right off the guy.
Ivy’s lips parted in surprise as she found herself staring at Laxton Crenshaw, a city councilman. And he was glaring at Bennett.
“You don’t touch me,” Laxton said, and he surged toward Bennett, fumbling for the mask. “No one touches me!”
Bennett side-stepped the guy’s lunge and Laxton fell to the floor.
The scent of booze drifted off the councilman, nearly burning the air around them. Laxton tried to get up, but he just fell right back down.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Bennett motion with his hand, and a uniformed cop rushed over. One of his men.
“Councilman, I’m going to need to know where you were earlier tonight…” Bennett said.
The councilman flipped him off, then he fell back on the floor, laughing.
“That’s not a very good alibi,” Ivy pointed out.
Laxton’s laughter faded. He glanced toward her. His smile turned a little cruel.
He’s the right size. And he’d sure zeroed in on her. Could he be the killer?
“We’re going to need to escort the councilman out,” Bennett told the uniformed cop. “I think he may have overindulged tonight.”
And she knew exactly what Bennett was doing. He was going to take the councilman away under the drinking-too-much ruse and grill the guy. Good technique, she had to give him that and—
The music died. The disco lights flashed off. The overhead lights that had been muted to a faint glow also suddenly disappeared.
The only illumination in the ballroom came from the sputtering candles that lined the tables.
“What the hell?” Bennett demanded.
A loud, shrieking alarm pierced the darkness.
Then people started running. Nearly stampeding as they rushed toward the ballroom’s exit doors—doors that just led to the overflowing back hall.
Shouts and cries filled the air.
What is happening? Someone jostled into Ivy, hitting her hard, and she spun around.
“I’ve got you.” Warm, strong hands closed around her shoulders and pulled her up against a body. Not just any body—Bennett. His arms wrapped around her as he held her close. “Officer Abrams, get the others to help this crowd! We need to find out what’s happening.”
