Kyle laughed. “From what I saw on the website, they aren’t that bad, but close.” He tented his fingers. “What do you have against Mr. Russo? And don’t tell me it isn’t something. Are you anti-bordello?”
For whatever reason, he’s been honest with me. Do I return the favor? Brax looked down at his clenched hands, forcing himself to relax. “I have nothing against bordellos, or the people who work there, as long as they do it willingly. They provide a necessary service.”
“Very liberal of you,” Kyle replied. “Do you have any reason to think his girls are there against their will?”
“No.”
“So you’re not after his paintings. You don’t want to shut him down for sex trafficking. Why are you interested in him?”
“He’s a blackmailer. I need to retrieve the original photos he took of a man Caleb knows—and the negatives.”
“Okay.” Kyle cocked his head. “There’s more to it, though.”
“Yeah. Russo and I have a history. If he knows I’m around, he’ll do everything he can to eliminate me.”
“Human—or shifter?”
“Shifter. Alpha. Not one to fool around with either. I found that out when he tried to steal trade secrets from a company I worked for. I was their security expert. I stopped him in his tracks and, in return, he did his best to kill me.” Brax smiled sourly. “I’m sure he’s never forgiven me for that.”
“For stopping him, or not letting him kill you?” Kyle asked with a bit of a smile.
Brax shot him a look of disgust. “What do you think?”
“Undoubtedly both. Were you Braxton O’Hara when that happened?”
“Come on. You know better than that. Have you always been Kyle Grayson?”
Kyle snorted. “Only for the past five years. Before that…Well, it doesn’t matter.”
“It never does, with our kind. Elio Russo was someone else as well, when we first…met, for lack of a better word.”
“Who?” Kyle asked.
“Eliot Russell. Not a terribly creative name—” Brax didn’t get to finish his sentence because Kyle was swearing vehemently. “I take it you know him.”
“Know of, although I’ve never met him. I thought he was dead. At least that’s what I was told.” Kyle’s lips curled up in a snarl.
“He’s not, but why do you care?”
Kyle sucked in a long breath. “I had a sister. Nichole. She was…pretty enough, I guess, but very shy and naïve. Still, she managed to find a mate.” He shook his head. “That sounds bad, I know, but it’s the truth. Anyway, she and Tomas got married, which should have been the end of the story. Then Eliot Russell appeared. He built a hotel and hired a lot of locals to work there, including Tomas and Nichole. He set out to seduce Nichole, right under Tomas’s nose, so to speak. Of course that didn’t go over well with Tomas, especially when Nichole succumbed to Russell’s charms. Tomas challenged Russell to a fight—and was slaughtered in front of Nichole. She killed herself a week later. From what I heard, well after the fact, my father and Tomas’s teamed up to eliminate Russell.” Kyle sighed deeply. “Apparently, that didn’t happen, if you’re certain he’s now Elio Russo.”
“I am.” Brax frowned. “You said you heard. You weren’t there when all this happened?”
“No. I’ve been estranged from my pack for years for not fulfilling my filial duty and siring children to increase the pack’s size, to quote my father.”
“Damn,” Brax said softly. He had a feeling he knew why, although he wasn’t going to say anything to Kyle. “Why would they claim they killed him when they didn’t?”
“Why do you think? They would have lost face if they’d told the pack they’d failed. Father might even have lost control of the pack if any of the younger, stronger members decided to challenge him because they thought he was too weak to lead them.”
“Makes me glad I cut my ties with mine years ago. I’m your true lone wolf.”
“It does have its advantages.” Kyle stared off into space for a moment before surprising Brax by asking, “What can I do to help you?”
“With Russo? Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I told you how I feel about the bastard. If I can help bring him down, I’m at your disposal.”
“I’m sure your boss wouldn’t approve,” Brax replied.
“I have no boss, per se. Each member of the team is pretty much autonomous. As far as they know, I’m trying to track down buyer of a revolver stolen from Richmond’s Civil War Museum. I haven’t asked any of them for help, and they haven’t offered. They have cases of their own.”
“That doesn’t sound like the way government agencies work.”
Kyle looked amused. “At what point did I say I was working for the government.”
Brax thought about it. “Actually, you were quick to change the subject when I asked. So it’s a private organization?”
“More a group of like-minded individuals who don’t approve of private collectors who illegally get their hands on a piece of art so they can hide it away for their own personal enjoyment.” Kyle shot a look at Brax. “Or the people who help make that happen.”
“Surely you can’t mean me?” Brax replied in feigned shock.
“If the shoe fits and all that crap.”
Brax laughed. “No comment. I have a question, however. If you’re private, how can you investigate the thefts? I doubt anyone in charge of security at a museum or gallery would be willing to talk to you. Hell, they probably wouldn’t talk to me, and I’m a licensed investigator.”
“They would if you walked in like you knew what you were doing and told them you work for—” Kyle made air quotes “—the Art Crime team. That’s a known branch of the FBI. Flash a badge. Talk like an expert on art theft and they don’t question you.”
“Until someone from the real team shows up.”
“It’s happened. Then we fade into the woodwork. Easy enough to do, since we’re all shifters.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. A friend of mine put the team together after his gallery was robbed for a second time,” Kyle replied. “Pulled in other shifters with investigation skills. There’s six of us now. Enough of us to make a difference. When we find out who the fence, dealer, or thief is, and can prove it, we turn the information over to the authorities, anonymously, and let them take it from there.”
“So if I was a thief, I should watch my back,” Brax said dryly.
“Or reform.” Kyle cocked his head in question. “You probably won’t answer, but presuming you are…Why? You have a good job. One that runs counter to stealing art for—”
“Fun and profit?” Brax chuckled. “Figuring out how to get your hands on an item, then doing it without getting caught, could be exciting. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Right now, though, I’ve got things to worry about other than whether you believe me or not.”
“Figuring out where Russell, well Russo now, has stashed the photos and negatives. As I said earlier, what can I do to help?”
“You’re still volunteering?” Brax asked.
Kyle shrugged. “I want to keep track of you. What better way than to work with you on something legitimate?”
“I’m not going to break down and admit to what you think I’m doing, just because you help me stop Russo,” Brax replied with a small grin.
“I can always hope. Still, my offer’s legit. I owe him for what he did to Nichole and Tomas. We get the blackmail material back, and then deal with Russo.”
Can I use his help? Yeah, I think so. He’s no slouch when it comes to figuring things out. After all, he found me and Caleb. Brax looked thoughtfully at Kyle. “It won’t be easy.”
“I don’t expect it will be.” Kyle tapped a finger to his lips. “Aside from the bordello, where else could he keep the photos?”
“His home. A safety deposit box. Your guess is as good as mine.”
“How are your safecrackin
g skills? As if I didn’t know.”
Brax prevaricated, waggling his hand. “I can get into most safes, unless the security is top-of-the line. Before you ask, part of what I do involves installing safes and security systems for our clients. I made it a point to learn how thieves bypass the systems and break into safes, so I could prevent that from happening.”
Kyle chuckled. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it. Unfortunately, we can figure Russo has the best of the best. We’re going to have to come up some other way to get our hands on the photos.”
“He’s not going to hand them over to anyone but the victim. And he might not even do that, if he thinks he can keep bleeding him for more cash.”
“How much does he want for them?”
“Two hundred thou.”
Kyle whistled. “He’s thinking big.”
“The vic is very rich and has a lot to lose if the photos become public.”
“Is the victim a shifter?”
“No. Neither is the woman in the photos, as far as Caleb’s been able to find out.”
“Does she work at Connoisseurs?”
Brax frowned. “Caleb said she’s a high-priced call girl, so I presume she does. She admitted to the victim that she worked for Russo. She’s probably not going to know where he’s got the photos, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I was just curious.” Kyle drummed his fingers on the sofa’s arm. “It still might be worth talking with her. She obviously was part of the setup to blackmail your victim, so she could have an in with Russo. More than the average girl who works at the bordello. Do you have a name for her?”
“No, but I might be able to find out.” Taking out his phone, Brax called Caleb, saying when he answered, “Do you know who the girl is in those photos?” A moment later, he hung up then told Kyle, “Her working name is Adalynn Gardiner. Caleb is certain that’s not her real name, given what she does for a living.”
“I suspect not.” Kyle gestured toward Brax’s office. “Can you run a check on her to find out? It would help, if we’re going to talk to her.”
“This is one of the things I do in the normal course of my job,” Brax replied as he went into his office. He booted up his computer then went to one of the basic sites he used when he ran background checks for his clients. “Nothing,” he said a few minutes later, before moving on to other sources of information. “Still nothing, under that name.”
“How are your hacking skills?” Kyle asked.
“I’ve been known to break into the occasional computer system when necessary.”
Kyle chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Since Russo’s bordello is probably legit, at least as far as paying taxes…”
Brax nodded. “I see where you’re going with that, but I’d need access to his business computer and that’s not happening. If I walked into the place and he was there, he’d probably shoot me on sight, or worse.”
“He wouldn’t be doing his own taxes, Brax. He undoubtedly has an accountant.”
“True,” Brax replied, then snapped his fingers. “We’re going about this back-asswards. There’s only one way in and out of Connoisseurs and that’s through the front gates. We have her picture, so all we have to do is stake the place out then follow her when she leaves.”
“You’re certain?”
“That the front gates are the only way in? Yeah. Here, let me show you.” Brax brought up the earth view.
“A big house, but I knew that,” Kyle commented. “And nothing between it and the walls but lawn. Probably to keep visitors, or law enforcement officers, from being able to hide somewhere, then go back in later to cause trouble.” He tapped the screen. “This might work for us, if it’s not private land.”
What he was pointing to was, from what Brax could tell, a wooded area across the road from the bordello. He switched to street view to check. From that angle, he could see the entrance to a narrow road that disappeared between the trees. There was no sign with a house number, or a warning that the road was private property. “Probably undeveloped acreage, which I’m sure Russo appreciates. No homeowners to complain about the traffic coming and going from the bordello, since it sits between there and the highway well behind it.”
“The perfect spot for illicit activities,” Kyle said dryly.
Brax looked up at Kyle, asking, “You’re certain—”
“That I want to be involved? I already said so.”
“Okay. Just double-checking. It’s too late to get set up tonight, although I want to do another drive-by, mainly to make certain that the trees will be a good place for the stakeout, and to figure where to leave my car.”
“Our cars,” Kyle said.
“I don’t care whose we use, but we only need one.”
Kyle shot him a look. “A two-man tail is better, as I found out this evening. It’s a good thing I know where you live, and that you seemed to be heading in this direction, or I really might have lost you.”
Brax lifted an eyebrow. “Did your research, huh? Did you make it inside here?”
“What do you think?” Kyle replied. “I wanted to find out where and what your next job would be. Don’t worry; I didn’t breach your safe. That’s not one of my skills—yet—though I’m definitely considering learning how to do that as soon as possible.”
“The job that doesn’t exist?” Brax laughed as he shut down the computer. “Your car, or mine, for our drive-by?”
“Mine’s a rental, so if we’re spotted, the license plate wouldn’t lead them back to me.”
“Used an alternative ID when you rented it?” Brax asked.
Kyle grinned. “If that’s a euphemism for fake, I did. Given what I do, I have several, to cover all bases.”
“Then we’ll take yours.”
* * * *
The drive to Russo’s bordello was done mostly in silence. As he drove, Kyle occasionally glanced at Brax. The man seemed to be off in a world of his own, making Kyle think he was planning their next move, if they were able to tail Ms. Gardiner when she left to meet a client—or to go home for the day. They were almost there when Kyle thought of something.
“You know, it’s possible she never comes to the bordello, if she works for Russo as a call girl.”
“We’re going to find out, aren’t we?” Brax replied, followed by, “Slow down. There.” He pointed.
Kyle spotted the road they’d seen on the computer images, turning on to it. It wound through the trees for a quarter of a mile before coming to a dead-end at a clearing. There were tracks in the weeds where other cars had come in then turned around. He hazarded a guess about why, saying, “Someone planned to build here then changed their mind?”
Brax shrugged as Kyle turned the car to face the road, parked, and they got out. “Possible. Who knows? That or it was a picnic area at one point.”
“Whatever it was, I’d say it’s a make-out spot now, for kids too young to go to the bordello,” Kyle replied, gesturing toward beer cans and cigarette butts as they began the walk back to the street, staying well within the trees.
“This should work,” Brax said, coming to a halt.
Kyle agreed when he saw a patch of tall brush between the trees and the street. From where they stood, deep in the shadows of the trees, he could see Connoisseurs’ well-lit front gates. As they watched, a car pulled up. One of the guards came out to talk to the driver, who handed him something. “Is the bordello by invitation only?”
“No. According to the website, you need to give them your driver’s license at the gate. They scan it, enter the information into their computer, then give it back.”
“That sort of negates the idea of anonymity.”
Brax nodded. “True, but their reasoning undoubtedly is, by leaving the information at the gate, there’s less chance a guest will try to cause problems. John Doe might think twice when he knows someone who works for Connoisseurs can inform his wife, or whomever, that he was a guest there—and prove it.”
&
nbsp; “A hell of a blackmail tool,” Kyle said.
“Naw. Russo’s too smart to go that route. If he or one of his employees tried to do that and were found out, he’d lose clientele so fast his head would spin, and he knows it.”
“And yet he’s responsible for your client being blackmailed, with the help of Ms. Gardiner.”
“Yeah,” Brax agreed. “But there’s nothing to connect that to Connoisseurs.”
Kyle changed the subject, saying, as someone stopped at the gates to be let out, “The lighting is good enough, through the windshield, that we’ll be able to tell if any of the women we see is her.”
“That could work, but I’ve got a better idea.” Brax started back to the car with Kyle right behind him. They left the way they’d come in, but running without lights, heading toward the underpass beneath the highway. As soon as they were out of sight of the bordello gates, Brax told Kyle to pull onto the verge along the right side of the street. “I thought I remembered right,” he said, pointing to a street light a few feet away. “And I think there’s another one on the other side of the entrance. One of us waits here, the other one there. We’ll be able to spot her just as easily, without revealing our presence to the guards. Whichever one of us does, let’s the other one know.”
“That works. Now we just have to hope it doesn’t take a week until she shows up, if she does.”
“The major flaw in our plan,” Brax admitted as he drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Back to the drawing board. I have to find out who his accountant is.”
“How?”
“I call and ask.”
“Right. And he’s going to tell you.”
“I won’t be talking to him. I’ll call Connoisseurs’ office and ask the receptionist.”
“With what sort of explanation can you give her for why you need to know?” Kyle asked as he pulled the car onto the street, heading back to Brax’s place.
“I’ll think of something.”
Chapter 5
Brax called Connoisseurs Wednesday morning. When the receptionist answered, he asked to speak to the business department.
Nothing In Common, Except ... Page 4