Knock, knock...

by Dale Mayer

  Ronin was just as good looking, but only Roman made her heart beat faster.

  "Sorry, please come in." She motioned to the coffee behind her. "Can I offer you a cup?"

  "Sure." He loosened his tie and accepted the cup from her. "Are your files digital?"

  "Both digital and print. We keep digital backups of most things, but all the applications arrive in paper for reviewing." She motioned to the wall behind him. "Those are all the active projects."

  He sighed. "So if someone is targeting your projects, they have a lot of choices."

  Ronin frowned. "I'll need all the personnel files for anyone who has access to these files – digital and paper. Then again, unless you’ve set up a foolproof system, any decent hacker would be able to get into your into your files without too much trouble. I’ll talk to Roman about that."

  She laughed. "He's in my office, on my computer, as we speak."

  "So big brother finally made his move, huh?" Ronin grinned mischievously as he disappeared into her office.

  "I heard that." Roman's deep voice rumbled toward Shay.

  Heat rolled up her neck like a tsunami on an unsuspecting shore. She took a moment to breathe deeply and shoved the embarrassment down again before joining them. She leaned against the doorway and watched the two dynamos. Both tall and lean, both dark haired with a slight curl. Both had seen a lot of the world's unpleasantness and it showed in their lean, hard jaws.

  As she watched them, something else hit her. "I think it's possible that Bernice's death could be related to the other three."

  Both men locked gazes on her. She took a deep breath and explained what she knew about the emails. She didn't dare go into what Dr. Maddy had found. Ronin should be told, but not with Roman here.

  Roman stayed quiet while she explained, then added, "There's no way to catch her killer if indeed she was murdered."

  Ronin pulled out a notepad and wrote something down. "And maybe she wasn't."

  Shay shrugged. "I know, but I'd hate to think that anyone shortened her life and got away with it." She winced. "She often received threatening emails and letters. It's just these last few weeks she mentioned there were some more distressing than the others."

  Ronin straightened. "You never mentioned them before."

  "I hadn't considered her death as anything but natural. However, now––"

  "Right. Who do I contact to get a copy of this correspondence?"

  Shay quickly gave him Susan Checkers’ name from Folgrent Foundation. "She's Bernice's right hand. Was...Bernice's right hand." Sadness swept through her. "Normally emails and letters like these didn’t bother Bernice, but something about these ones did."

  "I'll follow up on those next." He made a note in his cell phone while the other two watched. "If her death is related to these others, then her death would have been the first," Roman suggested. "That's very important."

  That wasn't something she wanted to think about. Because it reminded her of Bernice's last words about making a deal with the devil. A faint tremor rippled down her spine.

  And she was starting to wonder if the devil wasn't their murderer.

  Ronin moved toward Shay. "Let's get started. The sooner we find this asshole the better."

  Turning on Jordan's computer, she pulled up the files Ronin wanted to see. Together they read over the information and compared the three cases. She printed off the material he requested, and by the time they finished, he had a thick stack to take with him. They’d even opened one of the folders containing applications she'd turned down. As there were thousands, they started with the most recent of those.

  "Thank you," he said, holding up the folder. "I appreciate the cooperation."

  "Thank you," she responded. "Please find out who's killing my friends."

  With a grim smile, he nodded. "I'm going to."

  But likely not in time to save the next one. She pushed that thought away.

  She needed Stefan's help. They had to find this guy before he killed again.

  ***

  Sunday late afternoon…

  Hours later, from the safety and comfort of her own home, she checked in on Stefan.

  Stefan?

  She tested the door in his mind. It was closed. Shit. That usually meant he was painting or enjoying some private time. He didn't have a current partner, as far as she knew, but that didn't mean much. She wasn't privy to everything in his life. She generally had free access to him when she wanted. He said she was spoiled.

  You are spoiled. Stefan's voice responded to her thought and rippled through her mind along with his laughter.

  She laughed lightly, relieved when the connection strengthened. So what if I am? You love me anyway, right?

  I do. Now what's the problem?

  Why does there have to be a problem? Maybe I'm checking in to see how you are?

  Maybe. But not this time. So...? And Tabitha is holding her own by the way.

  Shay brightened. That's good to know. I wonder if she should have security to make sure the attacker doesn't try again?

  Already done. I set up an energy field around her body and room. If anyone trips it, both Dr. Maddy and I will know. It's better to be safe than have another murder.

  She winced. Except it's too early to say that they were murdered.

  Maybe. But three – no four – heart attacks around you in what...a week? That's not a coincidence. That's called a pattern.

  I know. But who could do such a thing. And why?

  Any kind of people could be responsible, as we know. And considering you control a lot of money… Stefan sighed, the sound a bare whisper breezing through her mind. She smiled.

  But I okayed all the money for these places. It's not like I was being blackmailed or pressured to do that. I did it because these centers need the money to keep going. The money went where it was intended to go. If the money had been embezzled or stolen, then maybe I'd understand it, Shay clarified.

  So maybe the killer is upset that you're giving the money to the center. Maybe they are trying to discredit you? The Foundation? Stefan's voice strengthened. No, Shay. These deaths don't show you in a bad light.

  I was wondering if it was someone I'd turned down. Someone angry because they didn’t get funding. And her mind had spun endlessly on the names. I showed Ronin those files as well.

  That would make sense. As much sense as any of this does. It still doesn't put this guy's hand on the money. Neither can I see how killing these people put money in anyone’s pocket.

  I know, she cried out in frustration. That's what is wrong with the money-as-motivation theory.

  What if someone doesn't like what the centers stand for? Maybe they don't think they should be charities. Or receive handouts, Stefan suggested.

  There are too many possibilities. I could speculate endlessly here.

  Is there another payout due soon? To a similar type of charity? Each of these centers was set to receive a payment.

  Maybe. I’ll have to check. I was at the office for most of the afternoon. Ronin left with information on the three charities. He's looking for anything that ties them together. She sighed. I also told him about the nasty emails Bernice got the last couple of weeks. Ronin said he'll look into that. He needs to know about what Dr. Maddy found too. And Roman did something on my computer system. Set up better security, I think.

  Speaking of Roman…?

  She didn't know what to say.

  You have to let go of the fear. You can't keep refusing to test the relationship waters just because you got burnt once.

  It was more than getting burnt. It was life scarring, thank you, she said lightly.

  And I'm not knocking that. But Roman cares. And he's willing to go the distance.

  How do you know? She almost winced as she asked the question. Stefan had ways of knowing, and she knew it. But Stefan was already speaking again.

  Roman’s an artist, apparently.

  She remembered Roman’s skill with her computer. He'd been tot
ally focused and understood the technology like she couldn't begin to. Roman an artist? Interesting to think he might channel that intensity into artistic expression. She had the feeling he didn't go into anything without excelling. Eventually.

  Oh, so he's an artist? That makes him all right, does it? Being an artist is on your approved list of occupations, I suppose? And how does that guarantee he's willing to go the distance?

  There are other reasons. Some are better for you to find out on your own. But you do need to ask to see his studio. Look at his sketches – if only to help you understand him.

  He paused. Speaking of paintings, there is a unique art show at one of my favorite galleries. Tonight. I'd love to take you. It will be good for you. Help you escape today's problems…your sorrows. He hesitated. In fact, I'll pick you up at 7:00.

  Another artist, huh? She had seen artistic strength in those long fingers of Roman’s as they tapped her keyboard with precise strokes. If he could turn that same dedication and focus to a canvas, she could just imagine the masterpieces he'd create.

  He'd never mentioned his hobby to her, though. She'd love to get a glimpse at that intimate side of his life. What would it take to see his artwork?

  Chapter 11

  Sunday evening…

  The art gallery was decked out with soft, glowing orbs hanging from the ceiling and candle sconces mounted on the walls. Hundreds of people mingled with tall fluted glasses in their hands.

  A hushed appreciation – maybe awe – permeated the room.

  A quartet played soft music that floated gently under the hubbub of quiet conversation. Shay loved the ambience. The atmosphere of the old stone building, the huge paned windows, and the soaring vaulted ceilings gave the impression of a long-lost era. With the women in gorgeous cocktail gowns and the men in suits or tuxedos, it made an elegant picture. She smiled.

  "Are you okay?" Stefan murmured at her side. Resplendent in a classic jet-black tuxedo, he stood out in the crowd. His face wasn't as well known as some people assumed, and that was mostly due to his phobia of all media events – but he stopped women in their tracks regardless.

  Shay had been surprised by his insistence that she come to this art showing, but she realized within minutes he was curious about her reaction to something. The artist in him wanted her to see this showing. To show her this art.

  She shrugged and smiled at him. Swathed in a teal, skin-tight cocktail dress, her hair in a demure twist, she was just happy to feel glamorous and to have something other than the murders to think about.

  "That's why we're here. Something to take your mind off all the problems." Stefan’s pure velvet voice deepened as he stared around.

  A waiter approached and held out his tray in a quiet, unobtrusive manner. The glasses glistened with golden liquid.

  Shay smiled. "Thank you." She took one flute. Stefan took another. They moved off toward the first wall.

  "What do you know about the artist?" she whispered.

  "Not much." He stopped in front of a life-sized nude. "Except he's good."

  Shay stared at the massive charcoal sketch that had been overlaid and blended with luminescent paints in jewel hues. "Wow."

  "Indeed." Stefan stared at the painting.

  The energy in his mind caught her attention. She studied the look on his face, her gaze going from the painting to Stefan and back again. He saw something in this artwork. Something special. She studied the painting for several long moments. The technique was stunning. The use of color as a highlight for this mix of charcoal and paint was unusual, yet it worked. It defined the artist.

  There was a compelling need to stare at the painting – to get lost in the art.

  "Let's keep walking." Stefan, tucked her hand against his arm, then walked to the next painting, stopping for a long look before he moved on. Shay studied the paintings. Each was more compelling than the last. All were of the same woman. Though all were nudes, all paintings of the woman were tastefully covered – in the right places. Yet the hint of what was underneath, the promise of more hidden beauty, was there. The paintings were innocent yet alluring, sexual yet classy. Blue highlights decorated all of them, adding an interesting creative touch.

  "He's exceptional."

  "He?" Stefan glanced at her, amusement in his gaze. "Isn't that a big assumption?"

  "Is it?" She motioned to the compelling series of nine pictures, each a portion of a painting, that when fitted together showed the whole picture. "All of these are of one woman. The same model was the muse for this series. You can tell she's so much more than a model. She’s the artist's passion. The other half of his soul."

  Stefan stared at her, an intuitive, almost secretive knowing evident in his gaze.

  "What?" she smiled. "Oh, I'm assuming that it's a he because he loves this woman. Whereas it could just as easily be a female artist who loves this woman." She shrugged. "Guilty." She stared at the bold brush depicting the well-painted form…and the undecipherable signature. "I can't explain it, but there's a male energy evident in the work."

  "Energy you are seeing?"

  "No. I'm not seeing. I'm not looking. I'm enjoying the show."

  "Good. And in this case, you are right. It is a male artist."

  She laughed. "Is there a difference between the sexes in the way an artist draws?"

  "Definitely, but that doesn't mean that we can't be fooled."

  They continued to stroll through the area, discussing the various poses, strokes, looks. Several times they exchanged their empty glasses for full. It occurred to Shay that this was the first calm, enjoyable evening in weeks, other than her time with Roman. "Thank you, Stefan. I'm so happy you dragged me here."

  "Good." He patted her hand. "Shall we meet the artist?"

  "Sure." Shay looked around. "Who is it?"

  "You know him. That's one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here."

  She turned to face him, surprise making her smile bright. "Really. Who is it?"

  "Hello, Shay." The deep voice interrupted their conversation.

  Shay looked up to see Roman standing at their side, a fluted glass in his hand. Her smile flashed. Damn, he looked good. She responded, "Hi. I'm surprised to see you here."

  He laughed, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Why, don't I look like the artsy type?"

  His tone of voice had her backing up slightly. "Not at all. I just didn't expect to turn around and see you standing there."

  His smile turned rueful as he nodded toward Stefan. "Sorry. Introduce me to your friend."

  Shay made the introductions, her gaze on Roman as she said Stefan's name. His eyes widened. His eyebrows shot up.

  "Are you enjoying the show, Shay?" he asked.

  She smiled warmly. "Absolutely. It's stunning work."

  She smiled at him and then looked over at Stefan. It was Stefan's smile that made her wary. And that hidden laughter in his gaze. She eyed him suspiciously. What?

  He stayed quiet, but his laughter was almost to the point of spilling over.

  She glanced over at Roman.

  Roman smiled at her. "Thank you. These are some of my favorite pieces. I’ve done several more but I believe these are my best."

  Oh crap. Her gaze widened and her mouth dropped open. From the grin on Roman’s face, he was enjoying her shock.

  Damn Stefan for not warning her this was an art show of Roman’s work.

  On cue, Stefan's chuckles rolled through her mind. She shot him a dirty look and turned her attention to Roman.

  "At least you know I was being honest, because I had no idea," she said, chagrin in her voice.

  "I do appreciate the honesty. Not everyone is the same."

  She turned to study his paintings, her mind now connecting the passion she'd seen from the artist to the model. The artist being Roman.

  Oh shit. He had loved his model. Did he still care about the woman or was he over her? Could it be his ex-wife? He'd mention a divorce, in passing, a long time ago. Surely he didn't still
carry the torch for her. Shay's mind twisted over the implications of her relationship with him. She could hardly ask him, especially here and now.

  But the one thing that played over and over again... Roman, the painter, loved this woman.

  So who was she? And was she still in the picture? Figuratively speaking.