Bitter Bite

by Jennifer Estep

  I attracted some glances too, mostly because of my dress. The blood-red velvet that was always my color hugged my body like a second skin, but what made the dress really stand out was the spiderweb pattern done in black crystals stretching across the bodice. Smaller webs, also done in black crystals, flowed down the skirt before trimming the entire bottom of the garment, making me look like a black widow spider come to life.

  More than one person did a double take at the dress’s obvious association with my assassin alter ego, and whispers sprang up all around me. I ignored them. Let people think what they wanted to about me. I had much more important things to worry about tonight.

  “Why, Blanco, fancy seeing you here,” a snide voice murmured.

  I looked to my right to find Dimitri Barkov standing a few feet away, a blonde with sky-high hair and overinflated breasts clinging to his arm like wet tissue paper. The Russian gangster was wearing a tux, and he’d even gone to the trouble of styling his shaggy black toupee into an elaborate pompadour. All the grease in the fake hair made it look like an oil slick spreading across his scalp.

  Dimitri’s cold brown eyes flicked over my dress. He opened his mouth to deliver some insult, but his date thrust her breasts up against his side and stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.

  “Come on, Dimi,” she crooned in a baby-doll voice. “I want to go inside and see the jewels like you promised.”

  He looked at her, his face flat. “And I told you never to interrupt me when I’m talking business.”

  The blonde heard the threat in his words loud and clear. Despite her heavy makeup, her face paled, and she dropped her head in apology. Her body started trembling so hard that her breasts threatened to jiggle right out of the top of her dress.

  Dimitri turned back to me. “See you around, Blanco,” he said, sneering.

  He gave me another cold glare, then headed for the entrance and disappeared inside the museum, since he and his date had already been cleared. I didn’t like his smug smirk, not one little bit. Dimitri was definitely up to something, but this wasn’t the time or place to confront him.

  “What was that about?” Owen asked.

  “Just a minor mobster trying to be threatening. Forget about it. I could kill him with my eyes closed.”

  Finally, Owen and I reached the front of the line, where a familiar face was checking invitations.

  Xavier looked us both up and down, then let out a low whistle. “Nice duds, Grayson. You too, Gin.”

  “Well, you know me. I saw the pattern and couldn’t resist the irony.” I nodded at the giant. “You look pretty spiffy yourself.”

  Like all the other cops, Xavier was wearing black wing tips, dark blue dress pants, and a dark blue jacket with a double row of silver buttons marching down the front. A matching blue hat was perched on top of his shaved head, while a black leather utility belt was cinched around his waist. His gold badge gleamed on the belt, right next to his holstered gun. A metal baton dangled from another slot on the belt, along with a flashlight.

  “Chief’s orders,” he rumbled. “Everyone in dress blues for the fancy shindig.”

  Owen grinned. “Taking names and kicking ass like usual?”

  “Well, someone’s got to do some work around here, since my partner decided to take the night off.” Xavier jerked his head. “Bria and Finn are already inside, along with Mama Dee.”

  I groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re calling her by that ridiculous nickname too.”

  “She’s got everyone here calling her that.” Xavier stamped our invitations, then handed them back to Owen. “Enjoy the show.”

  “Fat chance of that,” I muttered.

  Xavier chuckled and waved for the next couple in line to step forward.

  Owen and I entered the museum, walked down a hallway, and stepped into the exhibit area, an enormous rotunda topped by a high, domed ceiling. I’d expected the setup to be the same as the last time I was here—glass cases filled with baubles, subdued white lights wrapping around the columns, soft classical music trilling in the background.

  But Mama Dee didn’t do anything halfway, and the rotunda had been converted into an old-fashioned Prohibition speakeasy. A large bar had been set up along one of the walls, complete with a champagne tower at either end, and all the waitstaff were dressed in either old-timey white suits or white flapper dresses. Clusters of white feathers, black beads, and red crystals decorated everything and wound all the way around the second-floor balcony. Upbeat big-band music pulsed through the air, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if the waiters stopped serving drinks and broke out into an elaborate song-and-dance routine at any second.

  Still, the bright, elegant atmosphere didn’t even come close to outshining all the jewels on display.

  Diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, rubies, and more winked from behind three-inch-thick glass cases throughout the rotunda. The jewels themselves were impressive enough, but the settings were even more extravagant: gold, silver, and platinum that had been hammered into all sorts of shapes, from classic princess-cut diamond solitaire rings to an owl pin with quarter-sized emeralds for eyes to a clutch purse covered with rubies that had been fitted together in the shapes of roses. It was like standing in the middle of the world’s most impressive and expensive rainbow. There was easily more than a hundred million dollars’ worth of stones in this room, each one vainly chirping about its own sparkling beauty. The gemstones’ boasting voices perfectly punctuated the fast-paced music.

  “Deirdre owns all these jewels?” Owen asked.

  “Just a few pieces,” I said. “Most of the items belong to folks here in Ashland. Apparently, Deirdre knows everyone who’s anyone, especially among the society crowd, and she got them all to loan their jewelry to her.”

  “Impressive,” Owen said.

  And it truly was. The display of Mab Monroe’s personal effects here back during the summer had been a sight to see, but this was something else. I’d never been much for jewelry, but even I couldn’t help gawking at all the unique and interesting pieces on view. I could almost admire Deirdre for putting together such a lavish, over-the-top show.

  Almost.

  “Let’s find Finn and Bria.” I paused. “After we have a drink. Or three.”

  “Sounds like someone needs a little liquid courage for her next encounter with Mama Dee,” Owen teased.

  “Absolutely.” I elbowed him in the side. “Now, shut it, wiseguy, and take me to the bar.”

  Owen and I grabbed a couple of drinks—a Scotch on the rocks for him and a gin and tonic for me—then walked around the rotunda, looking at the jewelry and searching for our friends. In addition to Ashland’s upper crust, several underworld bosses were here tonight, and I once again had to stop and make nice with the more important ones, just as I had done at the bank’s cocktail party. Once again, my cheeks started to ache from all the fake smiles and inane pleasantries. But as Silvio had told me many times before, it was all part of my job as the big boss now. Lucky me.

  Mama Dee had also invited Silvio, who was already here, making the rounds and seeing what info he could dig up to pass on to me later. The middle-aged vampire looked quite distinguished in his tuxedo, his silver hair glistening under the lights. A younger man whom I didn’t recognize was giving Silvio come-hither looks over the top of his champagne flute, but Silvio ignored him.

  The vamp caught sight of Owen and me and waved. I waved back and made a motion with my hand, telling him that we would catch up later. Silvio nodded back, walked away from his admirer, and continued circulating through the room, chatting up a few people here and there as he passed.

  Owen and I walked on. I said hello to a few more folks, rounded another case, and there they were, standing in the center of the rotunda—Bria, Finn, and Deirdre. Of course that was where Mama Dee would be.

  Bria was a vision of ethereal beauty in a lavender dress that floated around her like a cloud, while Finn looked as handsome as ever in his tuxedo, a diamond pin winkin
g in the center of his bow tie. But they both paled in comparison with Deirdre.

  She wore a tight, fitted, floor-length gown made of dazzling silver sequins that sparkled even brighter than many of the jewels. A couple of long, thin diamond pins held her blond curls in place, while her scarlet lips were a perfect pop of color in her beautiful face. Her only other jewelry was her rune necklace—that heart made out of jagged diamond icicles.

  I wondered when she would finally reveal her own cold heart. Silvio was still digging up info on her, insisting that there was something seriously off about her charity foundation finances, but that didn’t help me combat her growing hold on Finn.

  A hold that was on full display tonight.

  Even though Bria was with them, Finn was completely focused on Deirdre, his gaze locked onto her face even as he belly-laughed at some joke she’d made. So did everyone else who was gathered around them. Before his mother had come to town, Finn wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off Bria, especially given how gorgeous she looked tonight, but that wasn’t the case anymore. No wonder she was sick of Deirdre.

  Bria saw me and waved. She murmured something to Finn, probably telling him that Owen and I were here, but all he did was nod distractedly and go right back to his conversation with Deirdre.

  Bria stared at him, the hurt flashing in her eyes quickly flaring up into annoyance and then outright anger. Not that he noticed. She sniffed, turned her back to him, and stormed over to Owen and me. The sharp crack-crack-crack-crack of her stilettos against the marble floor rang out above the music.

  Bria stopped a passing waiter, downed a glass of champagne, and grabbed another one before coming over to us. Owen got waylaid by one of his business associates, so then it was just my sister and me, drinks in hand, watching Deirdre smile, bat her lashes, and entertain the growing crowd around her and Finn.

  “The more I see of that woman, the less I like her,” Bria muttered. “It’s like she and Finn are joined at the hip. It’s getting on my last nerve.”

  I scoffed. “You think it’s getting on your last nerve? You’re not the one who has to be a dear and fetch her iced teas and grilled cheese sandwiches until the cows come home. She and Finn had a three-hour lunch at the Pork Pit earlier today, which meant three whole hours of listening to her laugh and talk and simper and make an ass of herself and Finn. My face still hurts from smiling at all her stupid jokes.”

  Bria snorted her agreement, her gaze never leaving the necklace around Deirdre’s throat.

  “Did you ever figure out where you had seen her rune before?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “I haven’t had much time to work on it the last few days, and last night I was busy with all of Mallory’s old photos. Thank you for giving them to me. I’ve only gone through about half of them, but it’s been really great, seeing Mom’s face again.”

  As soon as I’d left Mallory and Lorelei’s mansion yesterday, I dropped the photos off at the police station for Bria, knowing how much she would enjoy them. I’d look through them later. Right now, I needed to focus on Mama Dee, not get all misty-eyed and maudlin about my own mother and my dim memories of her.

  “I’d almost forgotten what Mom looked like.” Bria’s voice rasped with emotion. “I just wish I had a picture of Annabella too.”

  I linked my arm through hers. “You’ll never forget Mom or Annabella, because you see them every time you look in the mirror. You’re the spitting image of both of them.” I winked. “Only prettier.”

  A wry smile curved her lips. “Thanks, Gin.” She drew in a breath. “But I need to talk to you about the photos—”

  “Bria! Honey! There you are!” Deirdre’s voice boomed through the rotunda, and she sashayed over to us. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

  “I doubt that,” Bria muttered.

  Deirdre turned her dazzling smile to me. “And Gin, so nice to see you tonight. You look lovely. Red really is your color.”

  I smiled back, my eyes as cold and hard as hers were warm and soft. “You have no idea.”

  Some other people came up to us, insisted that they just had to introduce Deirdre to their friends, and whisked her away. Since Mama Dee was otherwise occupied, Finn finally deigned to wander over and grace Bria and me with his presence. Still, all the while, he looked across the rotunda and beamed at Deirdre, proud of her splashy success.

  “She really is something, isn’t she?” he crowed.

  “Mmm.” Bria and I made the same noncommittal noise in unison.

  Finn crooked his eyebrow at our less-than-enthusiastic response.

  “The exhibit is impressive,” Bria admitted. “Especially when it comes to the security.”

  She tipped her champagne flute at a giant standing guard at the back of the room. And he wasn’t the only one. More guards were stationed throughout the rotunda, along with an equal number of cops, not to mention the security cameras mounted on the walls that swiveled around and around, recording everyone here tonight.

  “Mama Dee didn’t spare any expense,” Finn said, his voice warm with pride. “She knows that the exhibit is a potential target, and after what happened at the bank’s party, she’s determined to make sure nothing jeopardizes it. She’s promised everyone that their jewels will be safe.”

  Of course the exhibit would be a target. This much jewelry in one place . . . it was like offering candy to Ashland’s criminals. I thought of Rodrigo Santos and the thief’s expertise in breaking into places like Briartop. But I just didn’t see how he or anyone else could get past all the cops and security guards, much less snatch the jewels and actually make off with them. It would be suicide to even try. Still, something about the whole situation nagged at me, like an itch between my shoulder blades that I couldn’t quite reach.

  Finn kept prattling on about Deirdre, all the hard work she’d put into the exhibit, and how much money tonight’s event and subsequent ticket sales would raise for her charity foundation. I tuned him out.

  Deirdre was now talking to some society ladies, and she gestured for Finn to come join them. He headed over to her without so much as a backward glance at Bria or me, leaving my sister to glare at his back.

  “Have you talked to him?” I asked. “About how much ignoring you like this hurts?”

  “I’ve thought about it.”

  “But?”

  She sighed. “But then he starts going on and on about what a connection he feels with Deirdre. How he’s so glad that she reached out to him. How he wants to make up for lost time with her. And I just don’t have the heart to burst his bubble. Besides, it’s not all his fault.”

  “No,” I replied. “It’s not all his fault. Deirdre came along and offered him something that no one else could. Anyone would be taken in by her. Even I might believe she was legit if not for Fletcher’s letter to me. Even then, all I really have are the old man’s warnings and this vague, uneasy feeling that slithers up my spine every time Deirdre smiles at me—and especially at Finn. But she can’t keep up this act forever. She’s bound to show her true self sooner or later. All we can do is be there for Finn when it happens.”

  “Even if we want to murder him ourselves in the meantime?” Bria snarked.

  I grinned and threaded my arm through hers. “Even if.”

  * * *

  Xavier entered the rotunda to take the place of one of the other cops, and Bria headed over to speak to him. Owen was still chatting with his business associate, so I got a fresh gin and tonic and wandered through the room, looking at all the jewels again.

  I finally reached the center of the rotunda and the pièce de résistance: a diamond choker that featured dozens of exquisite, sparkling carats. Each diamond was shaped like a heart, with a large heart in the center and subsequent hearts gradually becoming smaller and smaller until two tiny hearts hooked the whole thing together in the back. According to the identification card inside the glass case, this necklace actually had a name—Hearts of Ice—and was from Deirdre’s private collec
tion, with an estimated value of more than ten million dollars. Now, that was some nice ice.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” a voice murmured.

  Mallory Parker stepped up beside me. The elderly dwarf wore a long-sleeved blue ballgown and was decked out in almost as many diamonds as were in the entire exhibit. Large solitaire rings flashed on every one of her fingers, diamond studs the size of small pebbles glinted in her ears, and an impressive tiara sparkled on top of her head, nestled in the fluffy mound of her teased white hair.

  “Mallory.”

  “Gin.”

  I looked around and spotted Lorelei Parker talking with Bria and Xavier. I waved at Lorelei, who returned the gesture and then went back to her conversation with my friends.

  I turned back to Mallory. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight, especially since you didn’t donate anything to the exhibit.”

  The elderly dwarf grinned. “I might not have donated anything, but I’m always happy to lust after someone else’s stones.” She nodded her head at the display case. “That necklace has been in the Shaw family for generations. Deirdre’s mama wore it to plenty of parties. I even tried to buy it from her when I heard that she was looking to unload some of her jewelry, but she was too snooty to sell it to me.”

  I had started to respond when the scent of peonies filled the air. I bit back a groan.

  “Gin! Honey! There you are!” Deirdre said, walking up to us. “I see that you’re admiring the heart of the exhibit. Hee-hee-hee. Isn’t it lovely?”

  “Lovely,” I said in a wry voice.

  Deirdre favored Mallory with a dazzling smile. “And Mallory Parker, how wonderful to see you again.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” the dwarf replied in a tart voice. “But we both know that ain’t the case.”