Monsters.
With faces or without, Lilah had spent her life dealing with those threats that lurked in the shadows, waiting to devour you with sharp teeth.
Her father’s death had been first. He’d simply been doing his job, providing for his family, when something dark and dangerous had leaped up and taken his life.
Steven had come next. As clichéd as it was, the man had been the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her only problem had been ignoring the teeth that had snapped at her in warning, hidden beneath the layers of wool.
Well, she’d be damned if she’d be unprepared—or unrealistic—this time. Whatever threat loomed, waiting to snatch her, was in for a nasty surprise. She was never going to be a victim again and she wasn’t going to quiver in fear, simply waiting for the threat that stalked them to make its next move.
They’d plan. She, Violet and Cassidy, along with Tucker and Max. They’d figure out how to tackle what lurked in the shadows and they were going to dismantle it.
Was it a network of people? Someone acting alone? Based on the number of individuals already involved, she leaned toward a network, yet the whole job had the distinct markings of someone leading the charge and pulling the strings.
But who?
She needed to get into the shop but made a game-time decision to hit up Gabby for some coffee. A glance at the clock and a quick calculation on a tray of strawberries that still needed dipping and she estimated she could spare a good half hour. Since her friend had a perpetual pot going in her kitchen, Lilah decided to take a few minutes to try to settle.
The bright sign for Taste the Moment beckoned her as she turned onto Slocum, and Lilah was glad she’d made the quick detour. A fellow business owner in the Design District, Gabby had turned an old decorator’s warehouse into a lavish kitchen operation.
She used about half the space to cater, and had then set up what was basically a second kitchen where she taught cooking classes and held wine tastings. The mixed use had served her well, as it meant she had a steady stream of people sampling her work and able to recommend her for catering services.
It also meant the woman slept little, hence the perpetual pot of coffee.
Gabby waved at her from the front window and opened the door. “What’s up with y—” Her friend broke off as she opened the front door. “What happened?”
Lilah knew it was petty, but her first thought was that she must look like a train wreck, and how could she have gone out of the house looking like that with Reed? Before she could muster a second thought, Gabby had her pulled in tight for a hug.
“What happened?”
“Gab—”
Those strong arms relinquished her from the python squeeze, but Gabby’s dark eyes remained sharp. “You look upset.”
“I had a bad night.”
“Bad memories?”
“More like a bad memory that made a return visit.”
Gabby waved her in, the morning heat already oppressive, then locked the door behind her. “Let’s go sit down.”
In moments, the two of them were at a small table Gabby kept in her large kitchen, steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. Lilah caught her up on the night before, all the way up to her impressions at the impound lot.
“My cousin Ramon manages the paperwork for the lot. Want me to look into this with him?”
Lilah smiled and tried to conjure up if she’d met Ramon at the Sanchez family’s previous year’s Cinco party and couldn’t quite summon up a face. “Reed’s promised to keep me informed.”
“Reed, is it?” Gabby’s eyes held wide-eyed innocence as she stared over the rim of her mug, and Lilah wasn’t buying it for a moment.
“Thanks, by the way. All that Detective Yummy stuff got me in trouble yesterday.”
“A bit of fun with an attractive man.” Gabby laid down her mug. “And how’d it get you in trouble?”
Lilah stared into her own mug as she recognized her hasty words. “I might have gotten a bit jealous.”
“Of who?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Um, yeah. You’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, baby doll.” Gabby shook her head before she stood to snag the pot off the warmer. “That man only has eyes for you.”
Lilah wanted to argue, but the distinct sensation of his breath wavering over her earlobe filled her thoughts as a delicious shiver raced down her spine.
“Yeah. Well. Um.”
“Well, um nothing.” Gabby set down the mugs before taking her hands. “You deserve happiness. And if it came in this most unlikely way, reach out and take it. Make it yours.”
Was it that easy?
She knew she was jaded. Knew the years of her marriage had done damage and left scars that she still didn’t know the full extent of.
Even knowing that, she knew she wanted more. Wanted all. She’d spent her life believing she could find someone to love. Someone who loved her fully and who wanted to be with her.
Was Reed Graystone that man?
“I don’t know, Gab. He’s working this case. We’ve had a few heated moments, but that’s just it. They’re only moments. Likely stolen ones.”
Gabriella resumed her stance at her chef’s station, a large cutting board full of several heads of lettuce. “You buying this bs you’re busy peddling or is it just for my benefit?”
“It’s not—” At the dark look, she amended, “Okay. It is a little bit. But you can’t say I’m totally off the mark. He’s a cop, for Pete’s sake. He deals with dangerous situations all the time. I, on the other hand, am the noob who’s battling lingering fear and self-doubt, coupled with a massive problem that’s landed in our laps.”
“I think you’re underestimating both of you. Oh, and letting Steven DeWinter continue messing with your head.”
“That’s low.”
“Which is why I said it.” Gabby sliced neatly through a large head of lettuce. “The man did enough damage and you’ve done a lot of work healing yourself. Just because he’s involved in this, don’t let that make you forget all that hard work. He doesn’t matter anymore.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
An image of Steven hovering over their table the night before flashed before her eyes. He loved playing the big man. Using his imposing height and physical breadth to intimidate and take over a situation.
She’d held her cool and stayed calm.
And Reed had been a rock, taking it all in with a wry sense of place that had managed to calm her and intrigue all at once. With him across the table, she’d managed to distance herself from the Steven she knew and feared in her heart. Instead of seeing him as the instrument of her pain, she’d seen the truth.
He was a bully.
“So promise me you’ll think about it.”
“I will.” At Gab’s pointed stare, Lilah breathed renewed life into the promise. “Honest, I will.”
“Good. Now get over here and help me with these. I’ve got to get three bags of carrots shredded for this salad.”
“Taskmaster.”
“You bet.”
She hip bumped Gabriella after washing her hands at the sink. “I’ll help you on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“After we finish, you come over and help me dip five dozen chocolate-covered strawberries.”
“Deal. Maybe if I’m lucky, your detective will show up while I’m there.”
* * *
Reed had already taken Jessie’s ribbing the entire way to the station about his new “love interest,” but when she was still offering up small jabs as they sat at his desk reviewing traffic-cam footage, he lost his cool.
“I can have the LT reassign you.”
“Irritation isn’t a reason to get someone reassigned.”
“It will be if I hog-tie you to your desk and duct-tape your mouth.”
“Empty threats.”
Reed leveled a dark eye on her as he flipped to the next piece of footage. “Watch me.”
Her mouth was open before she snapped it closed and leaned toward the laptop centered between them. “There. Rewind it.”
“Where?” He toggled the footage backward, frame by frame, until she jabbed at the screen.
“There!”
He slowed the program, then enlarged the frame to see what he could make out. Sure enough, a dark shadow hovered toward his car, then disappeared from view as he was presumably managing the cuts to the brake lines that their mechanic discovered that morning.
Within moments, the figure disappeared, falling out of frame.
“Is it the valet?” Jessie asked.
“He didn’t come from the direction of the valet stand.”
She rewound and they watched the intruder move in frame from the far side of the parking lot. “No, definitely not the valet. And I know we don’t have cameras for the corner of the lot because I’ve asked. It’s a dead zone.”
“Nothing even from a distance?”
“Nope. Nothing.” Jessie rewound once more, then hit Pause after watching the man walk back into frame. “Time stamp says 8:02.”
Reed scratched the time on his notepad, thinking through the previous evening. Their reservations had been at eight; at two after, they’d barely been seated. And within moments, DeWinter had joined them at the table.
“It can’t be DeWinter.”
Jessie tapped at the keys. “My gut tells me he’s involved.”
“Mine, too, but consider this. He didn’t even know we would be in the restaurant until we were seated. Lilah confirmed he looked surprised to see us and I could see it with my own eyes.”
“Dave and I saw it, too. He hadn’t expected the pleasure of your company.”
“So who cut the brakes?”
“Whoever DeWinter’s working with.”
Reed followed the thought but again, he came up with a dead end. “I’m not seeing it. If DeWinter didn’t know we were there, how could he have alerted someone he was working with?”
“So you were tailed.”
Reed shot her a dirty look, unable to fully fight the immediate affront at her words. “I would have known.”
“Seriously? You’re besotted with your passenger and you’re paying attention to who might be following you.”
“I’m still a cop, Jessie. I know how to manage my surroundings and how to manage an op.”
When she said nothing, Reed took the silence as a good thing. He damn well knew when he was being followed and he also knew good and well that they weren’t on their way to the restaurant.
So who knew they were there?
“Speaking of managing, where are you on the Barrington paperwork? We still have no idea who signed him out for his bail.”
“I’ve been working on it. The papers are routed to, like, six different places.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
He knew he was being a world-class jerk, but the case increasingly felt as if it was closing in on them. His sore ribs and stiff neck and shoulders only reinforced the concern.
With one last glance at Jessie before she disappeared from the squad room, he returned to the video footage from Portia. Reed toggled through the footage, unable to read the face on the dark shadow that hunkered down in front of his car.
Even with the lack of defining characteristics, he knew the man was acting on the orders of another. Although they’d yet to come up with a full psych profile of the killer—or killers—everything they’d amassed so far suggested a mastermind who was plotting behind the scenes. McCallum and Barrington had obviously gotten greedy, but their deaths indicated they’d not worked alone.
Add on the fact that something went down in the parking lot of DeWinter’s restaurant even as the man couldn’t have known they were headed in and his conviction they were dealing with more people only increased.
Which meant the threat could be anyone.
And if he didn’t snag a lead soon, there was no way he could ensure the safety of Lilah and her friends.
* * *
Gabby’s words continued to keep her company as morning drifted steadily toward lunch. Lilah had finished her strawberries and sent them off to their final destination with one of her contractors and now had a traditional chiffon to whip up for a bridal shower.
Stilling her roiling thoughts, Lilah conjured up an image of the bride-to-be, an older woman who had finally found her forever love in her fifties. Her friends had wanted something simple but elegant and they’d settled on a bright, summery lemon chiffon with an array of butter cookies on the side. She already had the cookies in the oven and was now foaming the egg whites for the meringue that would fold into the batter.
Reed hadn’t shown up all morning and while she knew he was busy, she hadn’t quite shaken the nerves that had her on high alert.
When he was around, she felt calmer. Protected. And it was cozy to have him in her kitchen.
“I’m running to the Hilton for a consult.” Violet raced into the room, her slender frame in high gear as she beelined for the industrial refrigerator. “Do you have the samples you wanted me to run over?”
“All packaged up in the baker’s box. Top shelf.”
Violet had them down and was nearly back out the door when she stopped and turned on a hard heel. “Are you doing okay today?”
“Sure.” Lilah fought the urge to touch her hair and wondered what she could possibly be channeling this morning. First Gabby, now Vi.
She’d put on a smile, damn it. Why wasn’t it working?
The whirling dervish that had invaded her kitchen vanished, replaced by an ocean of warmth and compassion. Violet snagged a stool and pulled it up to the counter. “Want to talk?”
“You sound like Gabby.” At Violet’s confused look, Lilah added, “I stopped there this morning for coffee. My head was sort of jumbled and it seemed like the right place to stop.”
“She’s good at managing drama. We all are, come to think of it.”
“All in a day’s work.”
“Which brings me back to my original question. Are you doing okay? Last night was a big deal. I know you like to manage your kitchen, but we could bring Pearl in for some extra hours to help out. The business is doing better than we ever imagined and we can manage additional team when we need it.”
Pearl was her most reliable contractor and the fact Lilah was even considering Violet’s offer had her backing away from the counter, the protest forming on her lips. “No way. I can handle this.”
“It’s not about handling it, Lilah. It’s about acknowledging you were in a major accident last night and you might need some time to feel one hundred percent.”
“I’m fine. I’d rather be working, anyway.”
“Yes, but—”
Lilah cut her off, the bigger reality of the previous evening tearing the words from her chest in a hard rush. “We can’t put someone else in danger!”
“I...I mean, we—” Violet stopped, her brisk tone fading. “You’re right. We have a responsibility to others.”
“What about our brides?”
The nerves she couldn’t fully quell dive-bombed her stomach in hard, choppy bursts. The problems with the shop and the gems had seemed so isolated and insular. But what if?
“Do you think someone would hurt them? Would actually find a way to sabotage our business to get to us?”
Although it was silly, Lilah imagined the words floating between them like heavy bubbles, lumbering along waiting to pop. “I don’t know what to think. Especially after last night.”
“We need a plan. And a way to manage this. If only—”
Violet stopped, but Lilah knew what was underneath the words. If only Max Baldwin hadn’t snatched the handful of jewels. The original cache would be gone and they’d be safe.
“We can’t go back, Vi.”
“No.” Violet shook her head. “No, we can’t. But we can do something other than sit here waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ll host tonight. Let’s get the guys together and we can figure out a game plan.”
“Which reminds me. In the craziness of last night I forgot to tell you the new information. Reed’s mother thinks the rubies are the famed Renaissance Stones. We should add that to the list of information.”
“I read something about them. It was quickly, in passing, like a list of some of the world’s most famously mined stones, but I passed it over.” Violet dragged out her phone and tapped herself a message. “I’ll look them up as soon as I get done with my appointment.”
“I can do it.”
Violet grinned at that. “I know you. It took you a day to remember the supposed name of the jewels. Are you really going to give up your afternoon of baking solitude to hunt around on the computer?”
“You know me so well.”
Violet’s green eyes twinkled with humor before she added a quick wink. “I know. And now we have one more clue as we figure out what to do with the rubies.”
Lilah shifted and the ruby stored in her shoe rubbed against her toe like a punctuation point to Vi’s comment. She knew she needed to leave it at home. Locked up in the safe in her bedroom. But without it, she felt bereft.
Naked.
For some reason she couldn’t define, the ruby had become something of a talisman. And holding on to it gave her the illusive feeling of power. As if she had a bargaining chip.
Something to fight with.
At that very thought, she knew she’d put a bit too much faith in her own abilities to protect the rubies—or the one she had control over.
Violet was right. They had to find a way to move the jewels into safer territory, and then figure out a way to ensure the ones who wanted the stones didn’t see them as a threat any longer.
Imagining herself some battle-ready negotiator wasn’t smart or safe. And she’d spent far too long working to be both to give it up now. She’d arrange another safe-deposit box in the morning and then they’d work on getting the stones returned. It was the only way.
“Do you want Reed involved?”
“Of course. We’ve got nothing to hide and the more we work with the police the sooner we can get this behind us.” Violet glanced at her watch and leaped up, snagging the box off the counter. “I need to go. Follow me out and lock up behind me.”
* * *
Steven guzzled his second cup of coffee and ignored the screaming pain in his temples. Despite four aspirin and the second cup since arriving at the small café, he wasn’t having any luck shaking the hangover.
Damned Lilah.
The woman made him crazy. Always had. And here he’d spent the past four years believing himself over her. Well rid of her, more like.
How humbling to realize he’d achieved neither.
The espresso was hot on his tongue—and a poor imitation of what they served in Italy—but it would have to do as he mapped out his strategy. He had until three o’clock tomorrow. And then he was to meet the Duke a block away from Elegance and Lace, the ruby in hand.
Why the Duke seemed convinced the women even had the stones in their possession was ludicrous, but he’d follow the man’s orders. All Steven needed to do was entice her to give it up and the Duke promised he’d handle the rest.
The whole plan smacked of lunacy and Steven had had the fleeting thought—more than once—to head off to his Vegas location for a few days. He was a businessman, after all. A position the Duke respected. The man would surely understand his need to attend to his business.
He’d get away for a few days. Play the tables. Visit with Darla—Didi?—whatever her name was, after she finished up her burlesque show at the hotel.
Just clear his head.
That was all he needed and then he’d figure out how to handle this damn thing.
He slugged down half the espresso, an image of Robert’s and Charlie’s eager faces chatting him up about the rubies.
“Who knows what’s there, man? Josephine Beauregard’s father was the jeweler to the Queen.” Charlie giggled as he slammed a hand on the table in one of the private rooms at Portia. “The freaking Queen of England!”
“What Charlie means is that we don’t know how big the score is. The rubies are a sure thing, as are the fake crown jewels. Beyond that, who knows what else was smuggled out of England?” Robert had remained calm, but Steven had seen his tell. Excitement had hovered behind Robert’s eyes, snapping with impatience to have his hands on the score. “We just need you to help us make the connection.”
“Word has it there’s an interested buyer.” Charlie warmed to the topic. “Like Robbie here says, it’s a sure thing.”
A sure thing.
There was no such thing.
He’d hunted for one all his life and every time he thought he got close, it vanished, replaced with people who gave him a hard time. Wanted too much—no, demanded too much.
Like Lilah.
She’d been perfect at first. Fresh and sweet, that blond hair like a halo around her head. He’d been enamored from the start, determined to have her all to himself. And oh, how he’d had her.
She’d been an unexpected fireball, full of as much passion in the bedroom as she showed in the kitchen.
And he’d been hooked. Lilah. His drug. Sweeter than any pastry and more decadent than the finest wine. The first few months were intoxicating. Portia had taken off like a rocket and they were riding the wave together.
A packed house every night, Dallas’s elite filling the tables. She’d helped further cement that, table after table ordering her desserts.
Then the press had gotten wind of their relationship and it took off to another level. Society invites. Parties. They were the freaking crème, and he’d finally arrived.
And then she’d gone and gotten cocky, suggesting what he should serve. Getting testy about her dessert menu, claiming she knew better what should be offered up each night.
He knew his menu.
Knew his vision for Portia.
And he refused to settle.
On a small sigh, he drained the last of the espresso and briefly toyed with ordering a third before resisting the urge. He needed to plan, and a layer of jitters on top of the headache wouldn’t help.
Lilah hadn’t been able to handle him and the moods that came on him when he created. He well knew she wasn’t going to invite him into her kitchen with open arms.
So he needed to figure out his way in.
Refreshed at the challenge, he let Vegas fade from his mind. He’d do this and find out what Lilah was doing with a cop, of all things. He dropped an insulting tip for the crappy espresso and walked out of the café.
The noon sun nearly blinded him as he walked toward his car, an image forming in his mind. As the vision took shape, his steps lightened for the first time that day.
His problem of an ex-wife was in for quite a surprise.