Chapter Thirty-One
In celebration of David Klein’s tenth anniversary, Val was asked to wear a floor-length sapphire gown with a low-cut sequined bodice and a slash up one side.
The necklace Klein provided was a gorgeous diamond pendant on a thin platinum chain and an elegant-but-simple diamond bracelet.
A slender three-inch string of diamonds dripped from each ear.
“You look lovely this morning, Valentine. We’re glad you could find the time to be on our show.
” The morning host, Don Murray, was a heavyset, balding man with a jovial personality and a knack for making people comfortable in front of the camera.
Val had been on his show before when she won Miss La Belle, but never for David Klein.
“Thank you, Don. It’s nice to see you again.”
“You too, Val. I see you’re dressed for an anniversary party. Tell us about the David Klein pieces you’re wearing.”
She lifted the pendant, and the camera zoomed in.
“It’s a single pear-shaped diamond set in platinum, designed by David Klein himself.
It’s eight-point-four total carat weight, valued at just under two million dollars.
” She went on to describe the rest of the jewelry she was wearing, the diamond bracelet and earrings.
“It’s all really lovely,” Don said. “But for most people this stuff is way out of their price range. I understand you’ve brought a few things that are a little more affordable.”
“That’s right. We have some very special items over here.” She walked to where the display was set up and Don followed. With her high spike heels, she was five inches taller than he was.
Val tipped back the lid of a polished walnut box, one of three positioned on the table in front of the cameras. On a bed of dark blue velvet, an array of much smaller diamond pendants flashed beneath the bright overhead lights.
“As you know, all the diamonds used by David Klein are very high quality. These are smaller, more affordable stones, but they’re no less precious.
” She went on to a second box that held diamond tennis bracelets, quarter-to-half-carat stones, then a box filled with pavé diamond earrings, jewelry that ranged from two thousand dollars to twenty.
“As you can see, Don, almost anyone can afford to own good-quality diamonds.”
Don chuckled. “I just hope my wife isn’t watching the show.”
Val grinned. They talked a moment more, then the interview was over. As she crossed the stage to where the David Klein security people waited to take charge of the diamonds, Ethan stood in the wings.
He strode toward her, waited close by as the several-million-dollar necklace, bracelet, and earrings were removed and returned to the portable safe they had arrived in.
“I need to change out of my gown,” Val said. “Then I’ll be ready to go.”
Ethan followed her to the dressing room, waited outside while she stripped out of the sapphire gown. She changed back into her street clothes—black skinny jeans and a loose-fitting, belted, soft pink top—then they headed back to her apartment.
She hadn’t gotten five feet inside the living room before he tossed off his leather jacket, shrugged out of his shoulder holster, and set the weapon on the table.
“Come here,” he said softly.
Drawn by the dark, restless hunger in his eyes, Val walked toward him, her heart jumping into a faster gear.
Ethan caught her shoulders and drew her against him, bent his head and very thoroughly kissed her.
She loved the feel of his lips over hers, the way they sank in, urged her to open for him, took complete control.
She loved the feel of his big hands sliding down over her hips, cupping her bottom, pulling her into the hard ridge between his legs.
Desire curled into her stomach, spread out through her limbs. Warm male lips pressed against the side of her neck just below her ear, and goose bumps feathered across her skin.
“Damn, you looked so gorgeous in that dress it was all I could do not to walk into that dressing room and have you right there.”
Val draped her arms around his neck. “In that case, now would be good.”
Ethan growled low in his throat and kissed her again, a long, deep, thorough exploration that had her melting against him, pressing her body even closer. He was backing her up to the wall, his erection making all kinds of promises she knew he could keep, when his cell phone started to signal.
Ethan cursed, and Val felt a sharp stab of disappointment.
He took a deep breath and set her away, dragged the phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. “It’s Sadie.” He pressed the phone against his ear. “You got something?” He listened, flicked Val a glance. “Hold on while I put you on speaker.”
Surprise filtered through her. He was including her, understanding that she was part of this, respecting what she might be able to contribute. She had come to respect him, too.
The notion unsettled her. She was getting sucked in, her feelings for Ethan growing deeper every day.
She couldn’t afford to fall in love with him.
Ethan couldn’t afford to fall for her. Not with the problems he was already facing with his ex and his little girl.
They’d wind up like Megan and Dirk, both of them getting hurt.
Val took a deep breath. Forcing aside the unwelcome thought, she moved closer to the phone.
“Go ahead,” Ethan said. “What have you got for us?”
“Oh, just all kinds of juicy little tidbits. Starting with Myra Stern. Turns out Jason’s wife is Peter Latham’s twin sister.”
Ethan whistled.
Sadie chuckled. “So you probably see that’s the reason Jason got the job at David Klein. He was hired as president four years ago, after Latham took a major shareholder position in the company.”
“You’re right, that is juicy.”
“At the time Stern took over, the company was close to bankruptcy. David Klein himself was getting older, mostly interested in doing design work. It was Jason who turned the business around. He now owns a sizable number of shares, and the president’s job pays a bundle.”
“Interesting. I did some digging this morning myself. Klein is well past seventy. A pillar of the community. From what I could tell, he and Stern don’t seem to have much of a personal relationship.”
“They don’t socialize, leastwise I didn’t see them linked in the papers or in social media.”
Val spoke into the phone. “Do you know how Jason turned the company around, Sadie? What changes he made that pulled Klein out of the red and put them back in the black?”
“I surely do. Stern introduced a line of less-expensive jewelry.” Ethan remembered the stuff Val had been modeling that morning.
“He was also the guy who came up with the idea of partnering with La Belle,” Sadie said, “using glamorous lingerie models to show off Klein’s million-dollar necklaces. Same way other designers use actresses to advertise their jewelry on the red carpet at the Academy Awards.”
“Sounds like a smart guy,” Ethan said.
Val made a disgusted sound in her throat. “More likely Peter Latham is the guy with the brains.”
Ethan eyed her closely. Val knew Stern better than he did. He didn’t want to think of the dinner she’d had in Stern’s suite, but she very well could be right.
“I can’t tell you who thought of it,” Sadie said, “but you get the idea. Having hot babes like Valentine wearing David Klein jewelry gets women flocking to the stores.”
“Val’s taken Delilah’s place as Klein’s spokesperson,” Ethan said carefully, interested in what Sadie might have to say about that.
When the phone went silent, he cast a worried glance in Val’s direction, his gut telling him this wasn’t good.
“What is it?” he pressed.
“Nothing I can put my finger on. Just that Julian Latham is also a Klein shareholder. One who makes some very interesting trips out of the country.”
“Mexico?” he guessed.
“South America.”
“Colombia,” Ethan said. “Latham’s gotta be involved in the drug trade.”
“Could be drugs, but Julian isn’t going to Colombia. Every three months, he takes a first-class American Airlines flight direct to Caracas, Venezuela. Simón Bolivar International Airport. He makes a return trip home three, sometimes four days later.”
“Sounds like drugs to me.”
“According to his tax records, Julian runs Latham Property Management, a company his father owns. They manage apartments and strip malls owned by Latham Enterprises.”
“If it’s legit, why’s the son going to Caracas?”
“Good question. Whatever he’s doing, he isn’t doing it in the city. He takes a suite at the Gran Melia the night he arrives, checks out the next morning, then checks back in a few days later, the night before he heads back to Miami. No idea where he goes in between.”
Ethan’s glance returned to Val. He didn’t like her working for people who might be involved in an illegal drug operation.
He turned back to the open phone line. “The question becomes, is Julian’s little enterprise personal? Or does it have something to do with his interest in David Klein?”
“And if it’s connected to Klein, does it have something to do with Delilah Larsen’s murder? That’s the real question, hotshot. Guess you’d better figure it out.”
He sure as hell better. “One more thing: Any idea how Latham made his money?”
“He was a hedge fund manager. They all seem to walk away rich, don’t they?”
“Seems like. Thanks, Sadie.”
“I’ll keep digging. Go to work,” Sadie said and ended the call.
Val walked up beside him. “Maybe Peter Latham didn’t really make his money in the stock market. Maybe he made it running drugs, then used the drug money to buy shares in David Klein. Maybe he and Jason partnered up, infused some of the drug money into the company to turn it around.”
“Maybe. I’ve got a friend, a guy who works for the DEA in Miami. I’ll give him a call, see if Latham or his son are on any of their watch lists.”
“That’s a good idea.”
His cell phone chimed again. He glanced at Val, had a bad feeling his plans for getting her naked were going to have to wait. “Brodie.”