Cody snapped his head. Stoker stood off to the side, sipping on a glass of wine. “My wife is a bit brash, but she has her heart in the right place, even if she is a tigress.” He licked around the edge of his glass for effect and grunted while he managed to locate her working the crowd.
“Mmm… Yes. Women of salt generally have two personalities. However, what I’ve found is that formidable women all hunger for the same thing.” Stoker didn’t turn in his direction.
“And what is that?”
“A dominating man and one who knows exactly how and when to control her.”
Laughing, Cody maintained his composure. “So you’ve insinuated before. Trust me. She has all she needs.”
“I’m glad you believe so,” Stoker said contritely. “I’m quite pleased to have new blood in town.”
The words were said as if both he and Shanna were playthings. Perhaps they were. Thoughts regarding a secret kink club slithered into his mind and he swallowed hard. The past would remain there. Period. “You have the good fortune of knowing my name while I don’t know yours.” Cody moved in front of him, blocking his view.
Stoker cocked his head, his expression one of consideration, before he held out his hand. “Stoker Wilde.”
Cody shook his hand. “Mr. Wilde, we’re glad to be here.”
“Please, Stoker. We’re very informal. I’m certain you’ll enjoy the dinner and auction. From what I understand, the locals let their hair down,” Stoker stated and took a gulp of his wine.
“News travels fast.”
“Very little happens in this town without everyone knowing. Something to keep in mind, however various secrets can be kept for the right price.”
Cody didn’t react to the comment. Instead, he finished his wine and held up his glass. “This is my wife’s thing. Formal parties I only tolerate unless copious amounts of alcohol are involved. Would you look at my empty glass. Time for more wine. Shame they’re not serving scotch.”
“That could be arranged,” Stoker stated, the tone without inflection. “Along with almost anything else you desire.”
“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that. My desires are a bit unusual.”
“Unusual. Fantastic. We are birds of a feather, Mr. Torres.” Stoker tipped his head, his expression dark, his eyes knowing.
His skin prickling, Cody walked away before he was tempted to take the bait. The last thing he needed to do right now was tangle with the devil, at least not until their plan was in place.
Shanna was already weary of pretending. She moved through the crowd observing as she finished her wine, grabbing another one from a very eager waiter. She had no intentions of partaking in the wine tasting. What she did want was information. She knew she was being watched. The quickest way to achieve her goal was to act aloof and remain accessible. She’d managed to take a few additional pictures without being noticed. Maybe they’d get lucky and connections would be made.
She walked to the back of the art gallery. The vivid pieces were creative in nature and in truth, more avant-garde than she would have imagined. Every piece was adorned in primal colors, drawing the admirer to look more closely. She realized after only a moment of gazing that they were canvases depicting torture. For the uninformed or for those who’d never witnessed a gruesome murder, the creative collaborations would seem like splashes of color and little more. She reached out, her finger a mere inch from the painting, tracing one of the figures covered in blood. She was also keenly aware someone had followed her and was standing in the shadows. As she moved to the second painting, she heard a creak in the wooden floor. He reeked of an exotic men’s cologne.
Suddenly, he was behind her.
“A woman of distinguished tastes,” he said in a seductive manner. “Tell me what you see.”
Shanna exhaled and allowed her eyes to sweep across the piece. “In this one, pain and pleasure, the most incredible dichotomy of sensations.” She walked to a second piece. “This one is a true depiction of bloody rage, the taking of a human life.” The man remained quiet, no doubt surprised at her answer.
“Fascinating. Few understand the artist’s eye. He is provocative as he provides a reflection of his very soul. Perhaps you’d like to meet him.”
“Perhaps,” she whispered and took a sip of wine. The man reeked of cigars and far too much cologne.
“Would you believe these sell for well over fifty thousand dollars?” The man asked as he flanked her side.
From where she stood, she could see that this was the balding man. He must be the master of ceremonies. “My guess would be overseas.”
“Very good. It would seem Europeans have far more disturbing tastes than Americans. Allow me to introduce myself.” He turned sharply.
Instead of holding out his hand, he offered a business card. Shanna locked eyes first before accepting the card. She half read, but caught enough to know this was the very special invitation. They were in. “Mr. Goldsmith.”
“Please call me James, Mrs. Torres. I’m very pleased you’re interested in our town and in every manner. We offer much more than frivolities of food and wine.”
The words were more of an invitation. She offered a seductive smile and nodded. “My husband and I are excited about the possibilities. I believe I would enjoy meeting the artist if he or she is available.”
“The artist will be a guest at the dinner tomorrow. I’ll make certain you have a formal introduction.” James’ voice was powerful, alluring.
The man reeked of money from his diamond rings and Cartier watch to his cashmere jacket. While he didn’t flaunt, he made certain his position was known in subtle ways, including casual gestures as well as knowledge. “I look forward to it as I do dinner. Will you indulge me with hints regarding the auction?”
“Hints?”
“The types of wines I can anticipate seeing of course. I’m very interested in obtaining certain Merlots, some cabernets. The ordinary won’t do. Not at all.”
He smiled as his eyes darted all the way down to her toes and back. “We only allow the finest vineyards and wine sellers. We offer most unusual varietals, but certainly the finest selection in the world. I’m certain you’ll find everything you’re looking for, but if not, you can always ask me for what you need. I aim to please, Mrs. Torres, especially for clients of discriminating tastes.”
“Thank you, James. I look forward to tomorrow evening.”
“As do I. I very much enjoy hosting a celebration where my clientele are knowledgeable about several facets of pleasure.”
As James seemed to fade into the shadows, Shanna held her breath. She had the distinct feeling both she and Cody were being sized up as fresh meat and not just potential victims to ensnare into buying fake wine. There was much more to this town than exquisite food and spirits. She had a terrible suspicion that whatever was hidden behind the cloak of sexual innuendos was far more damning.
And deadly.
“James Goldsmith for all practical purposes is squeaky clean. He’s well respected for his knowledge of the wine business,” Cody said as he shook his head. “I also don’t see any direct connection to Stoker Wilde.”
Shanna curled her legs under her and glared at the computer. They’d sequestered themselves in the bedroom given the staff had arrived. She’d remained on edge the rest of the time they were at the wine tasting. There’d been no other overt invitations or introductions for that matter, but she knew they’d been watched carefully. But by whom? “This isn’t just about wine. The man dangled a carrot.”
“The art?”
“I don’t know. James was far too eager for me to meet the artist. I emailed you the photographs.”
Cody exhaled and rose from the chair. He moved toward the makeshift bar they’d prepared and held out a bottle. “Same as Mr. Wilde. I’ll send them to the captain. Wine?”
“Honestly? I’m sick of wine.”
“Whiskey?”
“Whiskey will do.” Shanna remained uncomfortable around Cody. She’d woken up determine
d to forget what had happened the night before, but the visions remained furrowing into her mind. She’d let her guard down. Stupid wasn’t the word.
He laughed. “You never cease to surprise me. Tell me about the art.”
“Vivid. Graphic. Horrific. Two were clear depictions of murder scenes. The others in the collection were something else.” She shivered remembering the intensity of the painting strokes, the wildly passionate yet erratic portrayals.
“Meaning?” He poured the drinks.
“Meaning they were representations of BDSM scenes. I’m certain. Mr. Goldsmith caught on instantly that I knew what I was talking about.”
“And you do?”
Shrugging, she only glanced in his direction. “I know enough about the lifestyle.”
Cody reared back as he brought her the drink. “That fits.”
“Why?” She glanced up. Seeing the concern in his eyes was curious.
“Stoker. The two times he approached me, he alluded to certain dominating forces.”
She wrapped her hand around the drink and realized she was shaking. “Dominating as in BDSM?”
He nodded, his expression pensive. “Exactly. He would love for me to introduce you to his society. I’m fairly certain.”
There was something he wasn’t telling her. “Society? What? What don’t I know, Detective?”
“Just interesting.”
“Don’t do that. If you haven’t told me something about this case, then you damn well better do it now.”
“Lower your voice,” he said through clenched teeth as he looked toward the door. “The last thing we need to do is blow our cover because of something stupid.”
“Then confide in me. Wine fraud? I realize it’s a crime, but Stoker is involved in several criminal activities.” Shanna pushed away her computer. “Wine fraud doesn’t negate a full criminal investigation complete with undercover work. I’ve been around the block more than once, partner.”
Cody gazed down and took several sips of his drink. “All right. What do you know about the murders?”
“I don’t know anything for certain, which is why I asked you.” She studied his face. “I’ll venture a guess one of them was an informant. The other I would assume was a double-crossing member of his team or perhaps another trying to get too close. Stoker certainly associates with various members of a Cartel with ties to Columbia and beyond.”
“Why were you following him?”
“Answering questions with more questions, Detective. You go first.” She challenged.
He shook his head and walked toward the set of open French doors. “Do you always play hardball?”
“When I’m kept out of the loop. You bet.” She thought about the man in the picture. She’d seen him with Trent. Maybe. Maybe not.
He placed his hand on the doorjamb and remained silent.
“I realize you have no reason to trust me, but you’re going to have to learn.”
“Coming from the woman with serious trust issues.”
Shanna clenched her hand around the glass and moved off the bed. “Fine. Stoker was directly responsible for the death of a friend of mine. My client asked me to find evidence that Stoker and his organization are stealing him blind. The case fell into my lap. A coincidence but it allows me to find out what happened to my friend.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences and neither do you. Who was this friend?”
She debated telling him anything. No one knew the details, except for Christine. The damning secret had a price.
Cody turned around, his eyes wide open. “Then allow me to venture a guess or two. This friend was very close to you and if he had something to do with Stoker, then I’m going to guess your friend was working on the opposite side of the law. You didn’t fall into the case, you bulldozed your way in.” He took several steps toward her. “Let me further guess that this friend was close to you, very close and the very reason you left practicing the law. Am I getting warm?”
A series of raw emotions rose into her throat. She took a gulp, but even the burn in the back of her throat could barely keep the bile from spilling past her lips.
“Okay. Silence. That’s a method you use now that you’re an investigator. Let’s continue this game. Shall we?”
“Cody, stop.”
He shook his head. “You drive a Harley. That’s about as far removed from your conservative persona as you could get. You talk tough and my guess your clients love the fact you’re rough around the edges, but it’s all an act. You’re soft and squishy in the middle. You’d love nothing more than to have a dominating man in your life. How close am I?”
She wavered, her heart racing. “You don’t understand at all.”
“No? I’ve been there, lady. I know what it feels like to place all your trust in someone and find out you’re wrong, dead wrong. I get it. You hide away from everyone including yourself.”
There was such pain in his eyes. She shifted and a series of emotions washed over her. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Shanna. Talk to me. What hold does this man possibly have over you? Is Stoker aware that he is the reason for your friend’s death?”
“Is he aware?” She swaggered toward him, visions popping into the back of her mind. “Is the mother fucker aware of the pain he caused?”
“Yes. Could he possibly know who you are?”
She laughed and shook her head several times. “I would say he is keenly aware of the incident surrounding my friend’s death because Stoker watched him die, lured him to his death.” Just saying the words were almost too much. Her voice caught in her throat and she turned away as tears sprung to her eyes.
“Who was this friend. Tell me.”
His face, Trent’s beautiful face floated in front of her eyes.
“Shanna. Who was he?”
“He was my fiancé. Okay? And before you ask, yes, he was a member of the Cartel and very high up. I was his attorney at first. Are you satisfied?” She turned back toward him.
Cody lowered his eyes, this time his eyes holding compassion. “What else?”
Shanna fisted the comforter and exhaled. “He was the only man I ever loved and I watched a cop murder him in cold blood.”
Chapter 4
Shanna sat back in her seat, admiring the sleeping cowboy. There was no denying she was attracted. Why had he pushed her away? Given his single admission, she realized he had his own set of demons strangling his career and his life. He’d run away from Montana to the only place that would hire him. All she’d been able to find out was that a sting operation went terribly wrong. The details had been locked down.
Stretching, she thought about their late-night conversation and sighed. She hadn’t planned on opening-up about her past, or her connection with Stoker Wilde. Perhaps coming clean had been cathartic. Then again, maybe she’d lost all credibility with the sexy detective. She had to admit to herself that she liked the guy, even though he was a cop. She’d never forgiven the detective who’d killed her fiancé. How could she? There was no reason for the shooting. None. She had no idea who had tipped off the cops, but the end result was Trent’s death. The detective in question was considered a hero. Case closed.
Then Stoker had disappeared for several months, but she’d kept track, enough so that when he resurfaced, she’d been right on his tail. Now the detective knew she had a personal vendetta. She glanced down at the laptop, fingering the keyboard. She’d worked several hours on a graph, trying to connect the dots. Nothing seemed to make enough sense, at least enough to make an arrest. The pictures from the event were fascinating but she recognized no one and she’d met a few soldiers in Stoker’s organization given her relationship with Trent.
She’d also searched for information on Christian Dunner, the artist. While he had a website, there were no photos of the man himself. He was an enigma, with no past and no real home. His art was sold in two galleries in the states, other than the special showing in Napa. Overseas was another story. The man w
as practically a God to the Europeans, who devoured his work. The mystery painter would be fascinating to meet, but what did he have to do with the case at hand?
Her eyes blurry, she closed the lid on the computer and rose to her feet. After glancing in Cody’s direction, she walked toward the French doors. The sun was bright, the sky a brilliant blue yet she remained cold, unfeeling. Christine had pushed her into this but why? She heard her friend’s words swimming through the back of her mind. You need to live again. You also need to get your head out of your ass. You’re wasting away. Live. She wasn’t entirely certain she gave a damn. Christine wouldn’t risk her life without a good reason.
When she heard movement, she turned toward the detective and chuckled. Although she’d been very clear that he was to sleep on the rather uncomfortable couch, he’d fallen asleep on the bed from exhaustion. She hadn’t realized he’d removed his shirt and for a few seconds she admired his naked torso. Muscular and fit, she envisioned the rest of him, including his cock. She rolled her eyes. No more! She forced herself to look away then was unable to resist.
Shanna bit her lip and walked closer to the bed. They were two damaged souls, longing to be able to find someone they could connect with, share horrors from their respective pasts. Could she care about anyone ever again? She inched closer and peered down. He was even sexy in his sleep. The two-day stubble was enticing almost as much as his carved chest and shaggy hair. He had no idea nor did he care how attractive he was.
After a few seconds of thought, she sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. Even his scent was alluring. She chastised her thoughts then reached down, easing a lock of hair from his face. Satisfied, she started to get up.
Whoosh! Bam!
She was tossed onto the bed and Cody yanked her arms over her head, pinning her down. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Just wrangling a bad girl.” Cody peered down, his eyes intense, his grip tight around her wrists.
“Bad girl?” Wiggling, she tried to get out of his grasp. The man was strong as an ox. “Let me go.”
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