by Wren Weston
The violin string snapped.
Slamming the door of the Red Lounge, Lila stalked to Sergeant Davies. “Did you even notice the sign above the reception desk? Visitors should have no expectation of privacy within this building. You gave your consent to both audio and video surveillance by continuing past the reception desk. Every room in this building is wired for it, including this one.”
“Even if that’s true, signs like that don’t always hold up in court.”
“No, occasionally, the courts are fussy, but you both agreed to the recording at the very beginning of this little charade. I think it will suffice.”
“So?”
“Let me make this abundantly clear, you dim little boy. You are caught out, and your partner has been around long enough to know when someone’s not bluffing. You should both be ashamed of yourselves, if not for your distinct lack of morals, then for your flaming ineptitude. If I take this tape to your superiors, do you think you’ll have a career afterward?”
“We have done nothing wrong. We’re just having a chat.”
“A chat without identifying yourself as officers? You left off your titles when you introduced yourselves. You also neglected to bring your badges and guns to this little meeting. I’ve read the Bullstow militia guidelines, you idiots. They aren’t so very different from our own. You can’t have a tranq or your badge on your person unless you’re on duty, but it’s not your fault if someone doesn’t realize that. You’ve been speaking to me as if you’re on the job this entire time. It’s sneaky, but I’ve seen that trick many times before, and I’ve seen it done much better.”
Davies shrugged. “It’s not our fault if you took something we said as—”
“Asking questions off duty without having a case number is one thing, but lying about having a warrant is in a different league altogether. You’ll lose your badges, and you know it. Someone must have claimed I had something pretty damning in my possession to even try it. Someone you trusted not to steer you wrong. Someone not in the militia, since you wouldn’t be able to use the evidence in court due to how you obtained it. I wonder who that could be?” Lila crossed her arms over her chest and stared at them expectantly.
“We’re going to find out what you’ve done. Whether you take us before the captain or—”
“Your captain?” Lila chuckled. “Do you honestly think I would bother talking to him when I have the ear of your chief? I suppose your captain is on the payroll, too?”
Muller’s eyes tracked to his partner.
“Someone picked you, claiming they were digging for evidence against the Randolph family. Did they claim the case would revitalize your partner’s stalled career? Did they say it would make up for that nasty wreck you had after all those beers at dinner? I did my research long before you stopped by. I know your recent difficulties. All you had to do to make it all go away was playact a little. Poke at me so that I would think that Bullstow had an ongoing case. Eventually, you’d get the evidence, or so your puppet master claimed. But he’s either burned you before, or you decided to be clever this time. I’m not sure who is dumber, your master for trusting you so much or the pair of you for trying to double-cross him. I suppose you thought you had an out. If you were brought up on charges, then you’d simply hand over the evidence to your matrons, returning to your families as heroes. It must have sounded like a brilliant plan when you thought of it. Were you drunk at the time?”
Muller bit the side of his cheek, and Lila knew the answer. They didn’t even have that excuse to fall back on.
“I suppose you thought that whatever evidence you found would make up for being cast out of Bullstow, but you didn’t understand that you were being used. There’s nothing here but one highborn batting at another, and you fell for it. You’re nothing more than a cat’s paw, spent in a game that you are not even a part of.”
Davies’s face twisted at the slight.
“I’m guessing that your lunch break will end soon, gentlemen, and you’ll need to get back to work. The next time you come to this estate, make sure that you have a case number and Bullstow’s blessing before you try to question me, or I’ll have you both fired for gross stupidity and brought up on charges. I still might. Perhaps it will be the Park family who will kick the Holguíns off the front page.”
Davies lunged.
His partner tugged him back.
Lila stepped away from the men, disguising her shock as best she could. “I would have expected nothing less from a man parading in his betters’ clothes.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Sergeant Muller said, all bravado deflated from his body. He pulled the still-fuming Davies from the room.
Lila sent a message to Chief Shaw on her tainted palm, knowing he would reply in the affirmative to anything she sent him, exactly as she’d directed him to do after she’d called her father. Let us have lunch tomorrow. I have something to discuss.
Let the Baron chew on that.
Chapter 23
Leaves crinkled under Lila’s boots as she marched down the gravel trail through the estate. The smell of damp leaves filled her nose, and the roses on either side of the path bowed in the wind. Even at half past twelve, fog still slipped around the buildings, obscuring much of the world around her. The people on the compound seemed nothing more than little bursts of red.
Lila entered the security office and abandoned the tainted palm on her desk before crossing into Sutton’s office. The commander had never gotten around to decorating, choosing instead to let Lila’s interior designer give her office the same treatment. The only difference was that Sutton had a dozen framed pictures of her husband, children, and grandchildren spread out along the tops of several filing cabinets. She’d also clogged every outlet in the room with electric scent diffusers. Sutton pipped in a new scent every day.
Today, the room smelled of vanilla.
“I trust our friends from Bullstow have been escorted out?” Lila said, after a curt hello.
“Yes, madam, though I do not understand why you wished to let them inside at all. Their paperwork was sketchy at best.”
“It was in the best interests of the family. Where was our militia? I didn’t see an escort.”
“You’ve grown soft after your vacation. I had them stationed along the route in plain clothes.”
“Clever. I had not thought of that.”
“It’s nice that I can still impress you from time to time.”
“It’s why I made you the new chief. So few do.”
Sutton inclined her head at the compliment. “Should I contact you if they call back?”
“Trust me. They won’t. Chief Shaw will be contacting you instead. You are to follow his instructions, whatever they are.”
“Bullstow, madam?” Sutton asked in surprise. “I thought we were done with them.”
“We’re never done with Bullstow.” Lila sighed as she left the commander’s office.
She retrieved her tainted palm, then started back across the compound, immediately putting Muller and Davies out of her mind. She had parried La Roux’s first attack, but she was not sure what his counter would be.
Lila had other pieces in play, though.
When she entered the great house moments later, she asked Isabel to bring up a plate of sandwiches and fruit as she “had been put off her lunch.” She hoped the flimsy excuse was enough for La Roux. She had left Wolf Tower immediately after seeing the militia out, not pausing in her duties to have lunch with her mother. It was not as if the chairwoman had been expecting her, but she would have certainly found out that the Bullstow militia had been in Wolf Tower.
Lila was not looking forward to that conversation.
She nibbled on a sandwich in the study room, wishing she’d been able to plant a bug on Muller or Davies or in the men’s cruiser. Such an act would be for entertainment, rather than for information, though. La Roux had likely b
een listening in on their interrogation, and he would have seen her text to Shaw. He wouldn’t risk exposing himself by contacting them again soon.
Alex tried to engage her in conversation when she came to take her meal away, but Lila shrugged her off, eschewing all details from the previous night. “I know why you’re so grumpy,” the slave whispered slyly. “You think that horrible woman came by last night and took away all your clothes, but you’re wrong.”
Alex put her finger up to her mouth and backed out of the room. She emerged several moments later, struggling under the weight of two trash bags. “I offered to help, you see. Actually, I offered to do it for her. I even offered to burn all these horribly unfashionable rags. At least, that’s what she called them. The woman was overjoyed to have a slave do her bidding for the evening.”
Lila leapt from Pax’s chair and hugged Alex harder than she ever had before. The scent of honeysuckle and her friend’s arms overwhelmed her.
“You’re the best,” she said, kneeling over the bags, stroking all her old things, unsure where she’d put them. She couldn’t exactly hang them in her closet, for Isabel or Ms. O’Malley would notice, and she had no more space in her secret compartment.
Alex bowed, then took the tray of sandwiches and scampered away.
Lila took a break from scheming and dragged the bags into her room. Unsure what else to do, she hung her uniformed blackcoats in the closet and folded the rest of her clothes, hiding most of them in her fairly empty dresser.
She then changed into a pair of trousers and a militia tank, the same clothes that she usually wore for combat training, the same clothes that had excited Tristan so often. Now that she was dressed comfortably, she returned to the study room and spent the rest of the afternoon on her spare laptop, struggling to tie La Roux and the Baron together.
She also dug into the people he’d trapped within his web, finding more compromised heirs and senators. It was no wonder she’d never found much evidence against Reaper. There was little to find. Reaper had never been the brains behind the operation. As she’d suspected, he was just a hacker La Roux had caught and bent to his will, forcing the man to turn against his clients.
How many highborn had La Roux compromised over the years through people like Reaper? How many had he fed false information? How many ears did he whisper helpful advice into, advice that might have been heeded time and time again, as he’d done with Celeste and Patrick Wilson? How many cat’s paws did La Roux have among the heirs and the senate, using favors piled upon favors, layered under a blanket of blackmail to advance his career?
Was that how La Roux had been elected to Beaulac in the first place?
Was that how Dubois had stayed in New Bristol for so long?
Were they partners or not?
After several hours of combing through all the data, she couldn’t put Dubois and La Roux together, at least not financially. It was a relief. She enjoyed her future brother-in-law too much to think of him as a criminal.
Her temp palm vibrated. You were right. I found a mild sedative in the wine.
Her lab director’s words turned her stomach.
The asshole had drugged her.
A knock sounded upon the door.
“Come in.”
Alex, in her great house maid uniform, had dressed better for the evening. She took one look at Lila and her mouth hung open. “You can’t meet the senator like that for dinner! What are you thinking? He’s downstairs right now. I didn’t intend for you to actually wear those clothes I rescued, not at a time like this.”
“Now is the best time for it,” Lila said, powering down her laptop. “Bring him up. I’ll be in my room.”
Alex stamped her foot, her heel loud against the wooden floor. “Do you want this man for the season or not?”
Lila shrugged and slid her laptop into her satchel. “I told you that no man is going to fuck me because of the clothes I’m wearing. Perhaps we shall skip dinner tonight. Why bother getting into clothes that I’ll take off again ten minutes later?”
Alex faltered. She rushed into Lila’s room and returned a second later with the silken red robe, the same robe Lila had taunted La Roux with that morning. “Put this on then when you meet him, then. It’s beautiful.”
Lila merely shook her head and hitched the satchel’s strap onto her shoulder.
“You look like you’re ready for battle,” her friend said as she followed Lila into the bedroom.
“Please, Ms. Wilson, go fetch Senator La Roux.”
Alex hung the robe on a peg in the bathroom, then slipped from the room.
Moments later, Alex returned with wine glasses and Senator La Roux, who clutched a bottle of Sangre in a silk burgundy bag, tied with a golden ribbon. His hair cascaded down his back. His suit coat and rose-pink shirt were effortlessly formal, as though he had put them on five minutes before leaving Bullstow and they just happened to suit their plans. Now that it was between sessions, he no longer had to wear the colors of his city senate.
If he wished to censure Lila about her casual attire, he did not show it.
Her stomach turned at the thought of him drugging her, fucking her, and planning to use her for his own ends.
Tristan never would have done that.
“Would you like dinner brought up, madam?”
“We’ll let you know.”
Alex bowed and turned away, the uncertain frown still upon her face.
The door closed softly behind her.
“Senator La Roux,” Lila began. She kissed his cheek as he bent over the desk to greet her, avoiding his lips. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise.” He grinned warmly, uncorking the wine with a loud pop. “Thanks for sending a car for me, by the way. It was a nice surprise.”
“I merely assumed. Many senators don’t have their own.”
“Don’t think too highly of us. Most senators drive a lover’s car whenever they can.” La Roux poured wine into the two glasses. “My cousin enjoys riding your sister’s Firefly immensely.”
“That he does.”
He put a glass before Lila and leaned against her desk. “I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I must admit that I’ve been thinking about you all day. I never should have left you this morning.”
“I spent most of my day thinking about you as well.”
The senator took her words as a positive sign. He circled the desk like a lazy cat and leaned over her chair, his fingers light as he began to massage her shoulders. “I have no plans for the season. Is that why you wanted me to stay this morning? So that we could talk about spending the next few months together?”
“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think, senator?”
“Dorian.”
“Senator.”
La Roux’s fingers stilled. “I could make you very happy this winter. We might not be a love match like my cousin and your sister, but there are other sorts of matches. Sexual matches. We had fun, didn’t we? Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. I saw your face. I heard your moans.”
Lila’s stomach rolled as she remembered how much she had enjoyed him, knowing what he must have been thinking while he fucked her. He’d probably had his eyes on her room the entire time, wondering where he would plant his bugs.
She had cast Tristan away for this man.
That wasn’t right, was it? She had cast Tristan away for her family. She had cast him away for duty. Senator La Roux had merely been on the agenda for the day.
Besides, Tristan had cast himself away long before she ever met the senator.
“Is that what you’re used to? Have the lowborn women you’ve bedded been so eager to produce an heir from a pretty senator that they engaged you for the season after one night, hardly bothering to talk between all the rutting?”
La Roux slipped a finger underneath the
strap of her militia tank and tugged it down. His soft finger trailed across her naked shoulder. “Are these your talking clothes?”
Lila shivered and knocked his hand away.
“What? I thought you liked bluntness?” He sat upon her desk, facing her once more, but his amusement did not reach his eyes tonight. Clearly, she had flummoxed him.
At least she had that going for her.
“Tell me about your day,” she said.
La Roux seemed amused by her question, though annoyance had begun to bubble under it. He methodically listed his activities, from how he had woken up in her agreeable company, to staying in his room at Bullstow all morning while closing out his files, to enjoying a long lunch with a group of senators from Beaulac while they discussed a few bills for the next legislative session. Afterward, he had engaged in another battle against his office files before getting ready for dinner with Lila.
She heard the words but didn’t listen to them. Instead she studied the way his eyes washed over hers when he lied, then away when he told the truth. The way his fingers alternately tapped or stilled upon her desk. The way he shifted underneath his suit coat.
“In point of fact, my day was rather boring. I’m sorry that I had to leave you this morning. I would have rather stayed in bed with you all afternoon. Tell me, what did Chief Elizabeth Victoria Lemaire-Randolph do with her day?”
His smile was a little too broad and proud.
She chuckled at the use of her full name, though it sounded forced even to her own ears. “I worked at the security office this morning, then returned to my room after lunch to organize my own files. I had so many that it quite overwhelmed me. In the end, I just wiped my computer. I’ll tell everyone my hard drive crashed.”
La Roux nearly choked on the wine.
“I also had a very interesting visit from the Bullstow militia. They seemed to be investigating some sort of disturbance at Bullstow a few days ago.”
“Is that so. Why would they come to you about it?”
“No idea. Did you hear of anything that might have happened on Wednesday?”