“This whole thing turned into a really big deal, didn’t it?”
“An international deal. There have been arrests in Japan, Hong Kong and London as well as here in the US.”
“Any trace of James Ellery?”
“Not so far, but I have some feelers out. We’ll find him sooner or later and I’ll sleep better once I know where he’s lurking.” Gage checked his watch. “I have to go. You okay to clear up?”
“Sure. Give Sancha a hug from me.”
Gage kissed Landry, wishing that he didn’t have to leave him. “I’ll be home as early as I can. Pick out a paddle for later.” Thinking about the prospect of Landry over his knees, bare ass glowing, would get Gage through the day. Landry beamed.
“I’ll be waiting.”
“On your knees. Naked.”
Landry blushed, the pink spreading to his collarbone. Gage fixed the image in his mind before heading out to work.
* * * *
“The diamonds are fake,” Gage stated, looking at his partner across the table at Pops’ diner where they were sharing an enormous bowl of nachos.
“The necklace?” Sancha asked. “What do you mean it’s fake?”
“Not real,” Gage confirmed. “It’s a very, very good copy of the original.”
“So let me get this straight,” Sancha said, before stuffing a cheese-coated nacho in her mouth. She crunched for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. “The Yakuza stole a necklace from an exhibition in Tokyo, but the necklace was fake. James Ellery then stole a fake necklace from the Yakuza but, after significant shenanigans, gave it back.”
“That’s about it,” Gage said. “I had a call about it earlier this morning. I thought it best to let you know when you weren’t hungry.” Because you have a tendency to get feral when you haven’t eaten.
“Good decision on your part,” Sancha said. “You have that look on your face. There’s more, isn’t there?”
“This is just speculation on my part, but what if the necklace that the Yakuza stole from the exhibition had already been stolen?”
“I haven’t eaten enough nachos for this level of confusion,” Sancha complained. “Explain it again and pretend like I’m a three-year-old.”
Gage rolled his eyes. “I suspect that James Ellery is not quite what he seems. Oh, his cover is genuine enough. He is a registered investigator. He does work for major insurance companies. But I think he’s also a thief.”
Sancha shoveled more nachos into her mouth, licking up a stray drop of sour cream. “I’m gonna need popcorn too.”
“I think Ellery stole the original necklace then replaced it with a fake. I think the original robbery had been planned for a very long time. It was incredible bad luck that the Yakuza targeted the exhibition and stole the replacement necklace, because if the exhibition had gone ahead as planned, it’s unlikely that the fake would ever have been discovered. Or at least, not for many months, if not years.”
“So, you think he’s like some international man of mystery cat burglar or something?”
“I did a bit of research on our Mr. Ellery,” Gage said. “With the help of some friends from Scotland Yard and contacts at Interpol. He has a very interesting travel record. He goes abroad a lot, which is perfectly legitimate with his work, but over the last ten years, Mr. Ellery has been in several countries where major jewel thefts have occurred, only he has been there up to two months before the thefts. He appears again once the robberies have occurred, because he’s ostensibly investigating the cases.”
“So, you think that he’s replacing expensive jewelry with fakes when he steals them, only to go through the motions of recovering them for insurance companies further down the line. Even though what he’s recovering are fakes.”
“Yes.” Gage drummed his fingers on the table. “He doesn’t do it often. Most of his insurance recoveries are genuine. Let’s face it, with historical heirlooms, lots of families in difficulties had to sell expensive pieces in the past and to save face, replaced them with copies. Who’s to say how long the jewels have been fake. In most cases, there would be no way of proving when they had been replaced or even if it had been done in a criminal way. Generations could have passed since the originals were swapped over and unless new valuations by an expert had taken place, no one would ever know.”
“It does kind of explain why he was prepared to mail eight million dollars’ worth of necklace across an ocean.” Sancha frowned. “That always seemed high risk to me. I don’t even get my mail order deliveries from Amazon sometimes, and don’t even ask me about DHL.” She waved Pops over. “Pops, can we get two chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream, sprinkles and anything else you want to throw in there? We need them.”
“Right away.” Pops wandered off, smiling.
“I need sugar in the worst way,” Sancha said.
“I can sympathize. I think Ellery will have already sold the real jewels. He could have broken the necklace up, sold the stones individually or as a collection, melted down the setting. If he’s as ruthless as I suspect, he would have no qualms about destroying a historic piece.”
“Are we ever going to be able to prove it, though?”
“I doubt it. I have to have grudging respect for the man. He must have nerves of steel.”
“Are you going to tell Landry?”
“Why not?” Gage said. “It’s all just a theory, after all. It will be down to the insurance company to deal with the fallout from discovering the jewels are fake, and everything else that was taken from the exhibition robbery has been recovered now. I suppose they’ll have to authenticate everything, though I’m convinced Ellery is only interested in jewels. Tad gave us enough information to put away several influential leaders of the Yakuza. We’ll be clearing up old cases for years because of his evidence. Everyone in the authorities on this side of the pond is quite content with the outcome. Why would they care one way or the other whether the jewels were swapped at some point in the past? More trouble than it’s worth to head down that rabbit hole.”
“This conversation is giving me heartburn,” Sancha said. “What brought on this spate of philosophizing?”
“I was going through the paperwork this morning and found a reference to the quote that was included in the package with the Japanese puzzle box sent to Landry,” Gage said. “It implied that there was more to James Ellery than met the eye. I think he’s arrogant enough to drop that kind of hint.”
“The quote was from Ophelia, right? Wasn’t she driven mad by the men in her life?”
“Did you just betray a secret interest in literature or are you suggesting I drive you mad?”
“One of the kids is reading Hamlet at school.”
“Right.”
Pops arrived with the milkshakes. Sancha guzzled half of hers in one go. “Perhaps Ellery will show up again, one day.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” Gage said. “But I’ll be on the lookout. I don’t want him getting close to Landry ever again. He brings trouble with him.”
“And Landry is enough of a handful as it is,” Sancha said, laughing.
“You’ve got that right.”
“Ah, look how the big bad detective is smitten.”
Gage shrugged. “Can’t disagree.” He shifted his milkshake closer before Sancha could steal it and drink it too. “I’ll make some notes, pass them over to Interpol and Scotland Yard. Maybe someone somewhere will take a closer look at Mr. James Ellery.”
“Or maybe he’ll track down his boyfriend in witness protection and live happily ever after.”
“With the value of that necklace, that could have been his plan all along. To retire, settle down. If he has genuinely found somebody to put up with his arrogant ass, it could be possible,” Gage said. “Witness protection wouldn’t be much of a barrier to him, I’m sure.”
“It would be nice to think that everyone gets their happy ever after.”
“He’s a bad guy, Sancha. A criminal. You aren’t supposed to be em
pathizing with him.”
Sancha shrugged. “Everyone deserves to find love.”
“I promise not to tell anyone what a hopeless romantic you are underneath that feisty exterior,” Gage said.
“No one would believe you anyway.” Sancha grabbed what was left of his milkshake, her expression daring him to protest. Then she slurped it down with a satisfied grin.
Chapter Eighteen
Landry surveyed the store with a deep sense of satisfaction. He had dusted, polished and swept the place to within an inch of its life. Everything gleamed and the smell of beeswax permeated the air. It had been a great week for sales and Mr. Lao had been so pleased he had promised Landry a few days off. He and Gage were planning a road trip to the Grand Canyon in Gage’s sister’s camper. They also had an invitation to dinner with Landry’s extended family, which Landry had been putting off. After three months of invitations, his mother had threatened to come to the store and drag him out by the hair if he didn’t bring Gage over. Still, Gage can handle anyone, even my evil twin brothers. They’ll probably end up playing football in the backyard or something. Landry would be quite happy spectating and gossiping with his mum.
He went through the routine of locking up, humming to himself. On his return from Hong Kong, Mr. Lao had not only installed a state-of-the-art alarm, but intercoms with video screens in both apartments so Landry no longer had to run to the street gate to meet any evening visitors. The last few weeks had been busy and he and Gage had had little time for dating but tonight they were heading to Scorch. Landry couldn’t wait to get dressed up and show Gage off to all his friends. He trotted up the stairs to his apartment, sneezing on the first-floor landing as usual. He’d only been to Gage’s place a few times. It was a rental and didn’t have much of a homely feel, though it was far bigger than Landry’s apartment. Landry thought that his place was cozier. Gage seemed to have no objection to spending most nights in Landry’s bed and besides, it was much easier for Landry not to have to travel into the store in the mornings. Gage had been moving more and more things into Landry’s closet and bathroom and Landry found he loved discovering Gage’s clothes in the laundry hamper, or remnants of his stubble on the edge of the sink.
Landry took a shower then prepped with care, not knowing what Gage might have in mind for the evening. He wanted to get dressed, but Gage had given him instructions that meant waiting a while. After throwing together a light meal of chicken salad, which he washed down with a glass of mineral water, he idled away the time playing Candy Crush on his phone. Gage was due at nine and, for once, was prompt. Landry heard his key in the lock at ten to the hour. He shrugged out of the robe he had been wearing then dropped to his knees just inside the door, head bowed.
“Well, that’s the kind of sight I like to see after a long day at work,” Gage said once he was inside. He ruffled Landry’s hair.
“I hope you had a good day, Sir.”
“It was interesting.” Gage took Landry’s hand, pulling him to his feet. He tilted his chin then kissed him, long and slow. His hands roamed, touching Landry’s bare skin, stroking all Landry’s most sensitive parts. Landry shivered, but tried to hold still while Gage explored.
“Shall we go to the bedroom?” Gage said. “I need to change and you need to put something on.”
“I’m glad you don’t want me to go to Scorch like this,” Landry said.
“It has possibilities.” Gage gave him a wicked grin. The clientele at Scorch weren’t known for being shy and retiring. There would almost certainly be some subs there wearing little or nothing.
Landry skipped to his bedroom where he had laid out his clothes for the night. It had been months since he’d had the chance to wear his rubber gear and he couldn’t wait to feel the slick constriction of latex against his skin.
“Before you dress,” Gage said, “I have a few accessories for you.” He dumped his overnight bag on the bed then pulled out a set of black wrist cuffs. “I thought these would go better with your outfit than the blue ones.” Gage buckled them in place.
“I love them! They’re comfortable.” Landry held his arms up, admiring his new cuffs.
“And a different collar.” The strip of leather was much wider than the pale blue collar Landry often wore. “This one locks and there’s a ring in front so I can attach a lead.” Gage took off the St. Christopher Landry wore as his day collar then locked the new one in place. “Soon, I’m going to get you something more permanent. Something in metal that you can wear in the shower. It needs to be more secure than the St. Christopher.”
“That would be amazing. I love wearing your necklace but this feels so good.” Landry bounced on the bed. “This is turning me on.”
“I can tell.” Gage gave Landry’s dick a pointed look.
“I can’t help it!”
“But I can.” When Landry stopped bouncing, Gage fitted a steel cock ring in place. “This should help you behave.”
Landry pouted. “It’s heavy.
“You can dress now. Unless a spanking would adjust your attitude?”
Landry attempted to look contrite. He didn’t want to spend the evening with a sore ass. “No, Sir. Sorry.”
“Two strokes with the cane when we get back later. I’ll add one more for every infraction.”
Landry didn’t enjoy the cane as much as a paddle or tawse. He liked a thud and heat rather than sharp lines of fire the cane left on his skin. Gage’s hand was even better. “Yes, Sir.” Arguing would get him nowhere. Mules had nothing on Gage’s level of stubborn.
“I showered at my place. I just have to change,” Gage said.
Watching Gage pull on scuffed leather pants over a black jock made Landry deliriously happy. The tight black T-shirt seemed an excessive amount of clothing, but it did emphasize Gage’s lean torso. Perhaps he’ll take it off later. It’ll be hot at the club. Landry smiled.
“What are you thinking about?” Gage asked, buckling his boots.
“You with no shirt on,” Landry admitted. “It’s tempting to suggest we stay home and get straight to the horizontal stuff.”
“But then I won’t get to see you in latex.”
“True, and that would be a tragedy.” After a liberal application of baby powder, Landry squirmed and wriggled his way into the shiny, short-sleeved body suit, which zipped to the neck and ended mid-thigh. A crotch zip would grant Gage access if he wanted it. Gage stared.
“You don’t like it?” Landry did a twirl.
“It’s…spectacular.” Gage licked his lips. “I’m not going to be able to let you out of my sight, am I? That suit leaves very little to the imagination. Men are going to be lusting after you as soon as you walk through the door at Scorch.” Gage circled behind Landry. He lowered the zipper, exposing Landry’s ass. “I should plug this. I don’t want anyone else thinking it’s free for their use.” He rubbed his thumb over Landry’s hole. “Bend over.”
Landry leaned over the bed, wondering which of Gage’s extensive collection of plugs he’d brought along. “No one is going to get near my ass, Gage.”
“Best to be safe.”
“You just want an excuse.”
Gage rummaged in his bag, apparently deciding between a few options. “Maybe. This one will do nicely. Not too hard but big enough you’ll know it’s there.” Landry twisted his head to eye the egg-shaped toy. Gage doused it with lube then pressed it to Landry’s hole. “Relax. Take it for me.”
“Oh!” The widest part of the plug was quite a stretch but the sensation of being stuffed full sent shivers of pleasure through Landry’s body. Gage zipped the suit closed then gave Landry’s backside a pat, making him squeal. “Eggscellent. Now we can go.”
Landry stood, hands on hips. “Did you just make the worst joke in the history of man?” Gage grinned. “For that, you should be the one getting the caning later. Unbelievable. My dad makes better jokes than that.”
“Get your coat, Landry.” Gage didn’t stop smirking all the way to the car.
> * * * *
Scorch lived up to its name. The dance floor was heaving and heat emanated from the packed press of semi-naked bodies. After dancing some and catching up with friends, most of them Landry’s, Gage found a rare free table in a corner. Landry was content to kneel next to him for a while and indulge in some people watching. He wasn’t uncomfortable—Gage had given him a pad to cushion his knees—but the plug and cock ring combination were driving him to distraction. He needed something to focus on other than the demands of his body. Gage chatted to two Doms he knew who had joined him at the table. Neither had a sub with him. Landry caught bits of their conversation but the music and crowds made it hard to hear—they seemed to be discussing a bespoke dungeon furniture maker from England that one of them had found online. Landry wondered if Gage was contemplating a kinky purchase and that gave his imagination something to work with.
Landry’s attention was drawn by two of the club staff preparing a small stage area for a demonstration, positioning a padded St. Andrew’s cross front and center. Curious, Landry waited to see what would happen. After a few minutes, the music volume lowered and a crowd of men gathered in front of the stage.
“Would you like to watch?” Gage asked. Landry’s view of the stage was now blocked.
“If you would, Sir. It could be interesting.”
Gage stood, holding out a hand. Landry took it and came gracefully to his feet. He followed Gage to a spot at the side of the stage where he had an unobstructed view. The hubbub of conversation died as a masked Dom led his sub, in a full head mask and blindfold, onto the stage. The sub was lithe, lightly muscled and walked like a dancer. Apart from the leather headgear, he wore a black silk thong and nothing else. Murmurs of appreciation rippled through the audience. The incognito Dom, clad in black leather pants, hooded jacket and boots, guided his sub to the cross where he chained him facing away from the crowd. The mask the Dom wore wouldn’t have been out of place at a steampunk costume party. Fashioned from what looked like beaten metal, there were holes for his eyes, nostrils and mouth. The rest was embellished with all sorts of metal cogs, buttons and springs. It was an impressive, somewhat intimidating get-up.
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