Chapter Fourteen
MIGUEL
It was too damned crowded in this place. The minute Raven and I walked into the Getty tonight, I felt out of place. Even in the expensive rented suits and black ties, our height alone made us stand out and turn heads. People stared at us, bending toward each other to whisper in each other’s ears over the other patrons and classical music playing from a sound system in every room we walked into. I knew we made a striking pair, but the leers we were getting from a few of the upper-class patrons were ridiculous. I had half a mind to grab Raven and kiss him right in front of these L.A. society types, just to give them something to talk about. They were probably trying to figure out who we were and since I wasn’t about to stop and engage them in conversation, they’d have to deal with speculation.
“We’re getting looks,” Raven said, loud enough for my ears only. He was glancing around the massive gallery we were standing in, looking at the crushing crowd, trying to find Mrs. Flores so she could introduce us to her husband’s business associates. I wasn’t sure if she suspected them in the theft of her ruby or thought they could just help us find it.
I couldn’t believe there were so many fans of this particular new artist whose style was abstract, not unlike the paintings we’d seen in the Flores’ mansion. They were beautifully framed like all the others in the museum, but they stood out by virtue of the style, unlike the others in the Getty. These paintings hung all over the walls in this particular gallery. To me, it looked like all of Los Angeles had turned out to look at them.
The J. Paul Getty Museum really was an architectural work of art itself. Set high on a hill in Brentwood overlooking L.A., it consisted of two campuses, the museum itself, and the Getty Villa, located in Malibu, several miles from here. I’d been to both campuses, each boasting acres and acres of sculptured gardens, fountains, and other water features including a huge pool at this location. Because of its fire-resistant building materials and anti-fire engineering, the Getty Villa had been saved from the devastating wildfires last month which was still a miracle considering how bad the Palisades fire had been.
The museum was the richest in the entire world, holding works ranging from Gauguin, Rembrandt, and Cezanne, to a multitude of pre-twentieth century paintings, drawings, and illuminated manuscripts. It also housed some of the most opulent furniture ever created. Some objets d’art were so ornately embellished with gilt, they glittered like gold. The place was truly mind boggling.
“It’s annoying the hell out of me,” I whispered in his ear, pretty sure he snorted just before turning away. I didn’t like the idea of us being on display in our monkey suits, but it wasn’t the first time it’d ever happened to me. I’d been to these sorts of things on recovery jobs a couple of times, but never in a setting like this. As I looked for Flores or her overpaid attorney over the heads of most of the guests, I just wanted it to be over. I glanced down at my wrist to check how long we’d been here and realized it was only half visible under the long-sleeved shirt with cufflinks Raven had insisted I borrow. I didn’t even own a pair of cufflinks. I pulled up the cuff and checked at my watch.
“Stop looking at your watch,” Raven hissed. “We’ve only been here fifteen minutes.”
I huffed in disgust as I leaned forward. “Feels like fifteen years.” When he said nothing, I looked at him, noticing his frown. “Sorry,” I grumbled. “Where the fuck are they?”
“Mr. Mathis?” I glanced past Raven to find Aston walking over holding two flutes of champagne and wearing a very large smile. I straightened, putting on my professional face as he came over, stopping in front of us. “Don’t you look nice?” he said, holding out the champagne. “I spotted you from across the room and saw that you had no drinks,” he said smoothly. “Please, try this. It’s a very fine vintage.”
I wanted to refuse but when Raven took a glass from him, I reluctantly did the same. “Mr. Aston,” I said, bowing my head and lifting my glass. “Thank you.”
He smiled broadly and I noticed how polished he looked. Just like a shiny copper penny. He wore another bespoke suit of the highest quality. The black fabric probably felt as soft as butter, and I was sorely tempted to reach out and touch his sleeve to confirm it. “Mr. Huerta. I saw you looking around. I hope it was for me,” he said, following the statement with a practiced chuckle.
I smiled, confident that it didn’t look forced. “Thank you.” I wondered if I’d misjudged Aston. Maybe he wasn’t only a high-priced lawyer, but also some sort of society snob who enjoyed hobnobbing with the help. Either way, I decided I didn’t like him much. I sipped my champagne and heard Raven clear his throat.
“I haven’t seen Mrs. Flores tonight.”
“She’s over on the other side of the room speaking with James Butler, the artist, and one of the Kennedys who flew all the way from the East Coast to see his installation. She’s a very big fan.” He swept a manicured hand toward the art on the wall. “Have you seen the art up close? It really is a triumph.”
“Well, we both know that’s not why we’re really here,” I heard myself saying. Raven cleared his throat, and I shot a glance at him. He was frowning at me. I looked back at Aston. “What I mean is, we came here tonight with the hopes of Mrs. Flores introducing us to some of her late husband’s business contacts like she said she would.”
“Yes…yes, of course. If you don’t mind, please stay here. I’ll go and find Mrs. Flores and see if I can extricate her from her guests.”
“Please don’t drag her away,” Raven said. “We’ll wait.” My charming better-half smiled sweetly at him and he returned the sentiment, bowing his head before turning on his heel and walking off. Raven turned to me and smirked. “Way to go, Mr. Smooth.”
I laughed. “Stuck up, priss.”
Raven chuckled. “Lawyers, what’re you gonna do?”
I shook my head. “Well, we could go home and fuck like bunnies. What do you say?”
Raven stared at me for a second before a woman’s tinkling laugh behind us, made me turn around. A redhead stood there, giving each of us a lascivious up and down perusal. She wore a floor length, fire engine red couture dress and black stiletto pumps. Her bodice was cut all the way to the waist revealing the inside curves of her overly large breasts with what was probably supposed to be an alluring strip of skin down the middle. A slit on the side of the dress slid seamlessly all the way up the side, revealing a toned thigh and shapely leg. She seemed to be standing there all alone, holding a champagne flute like ours. Hers was empty and she was waving it back and forth as she smiled seductively at me.
I glanced at Raven before looking back at her and putting on my most dazzling smile. I could be charming when I really tried to be. Her bright red hair was smooth as silk with gentle waves falling over her shoulders with highlights that exactly matched her dress. But it was the ruby and diamond bracelet on her wrist as well as the matching necklace that really caught my attention. It was…breathtaking. If they were real, and I guessed they were, she was wearing at least a million dollars of jewels. Her proximity to us in the crowded gallery seemed almost too coincidental to not be connected to the reason we were here.
“Good evening,” she purred. “We haven’t met.” She transferred her empty champagne flute to the opposite hand and held hers out. “Rosina Cassanova.”
I took her hand. It was very soft with perfectly groomed long fingernails painted with French tips. “Miguel Huerta.” I bowed my head, trying to decipher her accent. It sounded slightly European which would make sense if she was Italian as her last name suggested, but there was an almost South American lilt to it. I needed to get her talking. “It looks like you could use another glass of champagne.”
“Oh, yes, thank you so much, bell’uomo ,” she said, dazzling me with a perfect smile. Had I been into women, she would have been a temptress.
Beautiful Man. Definitely Italian then. I’d learned a few words from Peety Morrison, the Iowa farm boy who’d been a part of my unit. His mother had been Italian, and he was always trying to teach us how to say certain phrases. I’d retained a few and since Italian was close enough to the Spanish I spoke fluently, I’d been a fast learner. Since my whole unit knew I was gay, Morrison taught me how to say Beautiful Man in Italian with the hopes that I’d be able to lure men to bed when we were out on leave. I’d never had a problem finding a guy for a roll in the sheets while we were on leave, but it was nice of him, regardless.
“Please let me, signora ,” Raven said, smiling at her. “I’ll be right back.”
“ Ah , another beautiful man,” she said, turning toward Raven and batting her lashes. “ Grazie, tesoro .” She handed her empty flute to Raven, and he gave me a brief nod before walking away to find a bartender. I was almost relieved. She’d clearly wanted to talk to me, and Raven and I both knew we’d come to figure out what the hell was going on with the ruby. Obviously, Raven had noticed the jewels she was wearing the same way I had. They were impossible to miss. I glanced around for her companion, hoping it would be someone connected to the case somehow.
“Are you here alone, Ms. Cassanova?”
“Alone? Oh, no, bello , I’m here with my friend,” she replied seductively.
I wondered if she were an operative and decided if she wasn’t, she definitely knew how to put her beauty to work for her. She stepped closer, and to my surprise, slipped her hand into the crook of my arm. She wore a cloying, and no doubt expensive floral perfume that stung my nose.
“We will take a walk, no?”
“Anything you’d like,” I replied, letting her take the lead in the crowded room. At the moment, I wished she’d take us outside to the gardens where I could breathe. It was hot as hell in here with all the bodies, despite the air conditioning. We walked slowly through the crowd in the direction Raven had gone. I could see him about a hundred feet away, up ahead of us.
“So, Miguel Huerta…you are Spanish, no?”
“Mexican,” I replied, directing my best smile down at her. She was a tall woman, but the stilettos gave her an added four or five inches in height which brought her scented hair up to my nose.
“ Ah , si , Messicano ,” she said, smiling at me. “It’s Southern California. I should have guessed.” I nodded. “The other man…he is your partner, no?”
I wasn’t sure what kind of partner she was referring to, so I asked. “Partner?”
“The beautiful man…he is your lover?”
I grinned, unable to stop it as I smiled. “Yes, his name is Raven.”
“ Ah, like the bird. How lucky you are. He is bellisimo .”
“I agree.” I was happy I didn’t have to go into an explanation. Her flirtation sounded innocent, but I was a suspicious man. I’d come across female CIA operatives who’d surprised me with their flirtations before. I’d met one in Brazil during a mission our team had been on, who was extraordinarily beautiful.
I tore my gaze away from her and scanned the crowd, irritated that I could no longer see Raven’s dark head. He seemed to have vanished in the crowd. My heart rate sped up a little faster but then relaxed when I realized that no bar had been set up in the room either. I figured he’d have asked someone where to get more champagne and then gone off to find it. I looked back at my companion only to find her pouting a little. She clearly didn’t like it when the man on her arm wasn’t paying attention to her.
“He will find us, Mr. Huerta,” she said. “Come, tesoro . It’s so hot in here.” She tugged on my arm and then pointed at an exit to the garden. I nodded and turned us toward it, happy for the relief the cooler patio would provide. She was right. Raven would find us…so would Aston for that matter. If not, he’d most likely run into Raven with Mrs. Flores. He’d know the right kind of questions to ask the people we were there to meet. And I kind of wanted to take time to figure out why a woman with all these jewels wanted to talk to an openly gay man.
The tinkling sound of water from a large fountain was the first thing that hit me when we got outside. There were far fewer people out here than inside the building and we walked across the patio. The click of her heels could be heard over the buzz of numerous conversations around us as we headed for a low balustrade made of what could have been carved Italian marble but was most likely granite. In the dark, the views up here were breathtaking even if the smell of smoke from the devastating Palisades fire nearby still lingered. It seemed as if the whole city stretched out beneath us. I was relieved to see that life had gone on for some people, although I knew grief and loss had affected so many. Even though the garden was lit well by ornately turned pole lamps, the light pollution was much less here in the hills, so the stars were bright and twinkling.
“ Ah, so beautiful, no?”
I turned to the woman who’d stopped at the barrier to the gardens laid out in terraces below. I noticed several couples taking steps downward. Beautiful gowns, sparkling jewelry, and men in black suits and ties, dotted the landscape. The stairs were arranged on either side of the large outdoor patio, and the couples stopped at each tier to enjoy the plantings of ornamental trees, lush plants, and flowers. I’m sure they felt much the same as I did, thankful that more people hadn’t perished in the horrific firestorm.
I deliberately put morbid thoughts out of my mind, intent on exploring this interesting turn of events as we looked out on the gardens. The setting reminded me of all those Regency romance novels I’d gotten hooked on reading one summer not long ago before finding Nightcrawler’s review site. Just beneath the lowest terrace a large water structure of stacked granite formed a water feature with a trickling fountain running over the rocks into a small pool.
“It’s breathtaking,” I said, looking down into her sparkling, brown eyes.
“ Ah , Miguel, such a beautiful man.” Rosina Cassanova let out a sigh before she seemed to gather her senses. When she suddenly laughed, my gaze was drawn to her perfect red lips. “We go down into the gardens. They are still so beautiful, no?”
I looked around, not seeing Raven, Aston, or Mrs. Flores anywhere. There were several people around and I was curious to learn more about my companion. I smiled, interested to see why she’d singled me out. Surely, she had a purpose. I inclined my head toward the garden. “Of course.”
“ Superbo .” She tightened her hands in the crook of my arm, and I began leading her to the stairs to our left.
“So, tell me what you’re doing here tonight, Signora Cassanova,” I said.
“ Ah, you Americans…so formal. You must call me Rosina and I will call you Miguel.”
“Fine, Rosina, then.” We got to the stairs and began walking down to the first terrace. “So, tell me, are you here because you simply have an interest in art or are you here in L.A. on business?”
“You don’t look like an art lover, so then…it must be business,” she said, not answering my question. She talked with a colorful flourish as her melodic accent swirled around her like the bright pink blooms of the azaleas we stopped to look at.
“No, I’m not really an art lover. Mrs. Flores—one of the artist’s patrons invited Raven and I to the art installation…and also, thought it might be good to meet some people for my business.”
“ Ah …so…but you, Miguel…you are all business, no?”
I smiled at her as we continued on our stroll down the steps. “Not all business, no.”
She laughed and again I was struck by how flirtatious her laugh was. “Men. I will never understand it,” she said. “A beautiful woman walks with a beautiful man in a garden, and all you want to do is to talk business? Okay,” she said, before I could reply. “We talk business. What is your business, Mr. Huerta?”
I glanced around, looking up the steps since we’d almost come to the bottom. There were fewer people milling about this far down. I didn’t see Raven, so I looked back at her and smiled.
“He will come, Miguel. Now, tell me…what can be so important with your business that you bring your Raven out here tonight and walk in a garden with a strange woman?”
As we reached the fountain on the rock formation, I got a pang of unease. “Like I said, I thought maybe we could meet someone to help with our business.”
“ Ah , I see. So, you no answer,” she said sweetly as we stopped and turned to look at the fountain which bubbled over the stacked granite. Moss grew over it in places and the water fell into the pool at its base. The plantings around it were beautiful. The sound of the classical music at the top of the stairs was very muted. We’d walked a lot farther than I’d planned and no other people had come down this far. “So, you’ve come here to find someone to help you get the ruby?” she said.
I opened my mouth even as I felt mild panic beginning to rise. I was armed but I didn’t like the path we’d taken. I frowned at her. “Who are you?”
She laughed, although now, I could hear an almost sinister tone underlying it. The lilting tinkle of it was long gone. “I told you…Rosina Cassanova.” She abruptly dropped her hand from my elbow, though, we stayed close. “And I thought as long as you wanted to talk business, Trigg, we should talk business.” She lifted a perfectly painted nail and trailed it down the center of my chest as alarm at my Recon nickname sent dread coursing through me.
“How do you know that name?”
She smiled again, waving a hand as she shrugged a delicate shoulder. “But it is Trigg, no?”
I curled my gun hand into a fist at my side, sliding it into my jacket between us as she looked up at me. She stopped me with a tsking sound and the shake of her head. “ Tsk tsk tsk . No no no. We are such good friends, Trigg. I don’t want to hurt you.” I felt something sharp suddenly poke right at the inside seam of my pants, hovering way too close to my femoral artery. My first instinct was to step back and as I did, I pulled my weapon, pointing it directly at her chest.
“Oh, tesoro …” She sounded so wounded as I noticed the glint of a thin knife in a delicate hand, the same one she’d been holding against my thigh only a moment before. “You make me so sad. I only want to speak about business just like you, no?”
“No.” I gestured at the knife in her hand, knowing that I could easily squeeze off a shot before she could lunge at me with the knife. “Throw it aside, now.”
“Oh, what is it, Trigg, darling? You’re going to shoot me for asking a question?”
“Who are you?” I asked again, wanting to know what agency had sent her. She very well could be CIA, but I doubted it. More than likely, she was an asset, an experienced CIA operative developed over time.
“No one, tesoro. Just Rosina, as I said. Now, tell me about the ruby.”
“What ruby?”
She laughed again. “Oh, you play games. So funny. John never tell me his Trigg is so funny.”
I felt my heart stop beating. “I don’t know any John.”
She laughed once more. “ Ah , but you do, tesoro, and John knows you.” She glanced at my crotch. “So well, no?”
I waved the gun at her. “Tell me where he is, Rosina…right now!” I demanded.
“Right there.” She gestured to something over her shoulder, and I turned to look past her. My heart squeezed as I realized what it was. A red dot danced over the middle of my chest. The laser was done to make a point, and it was. Usually, you wouldn’t let a target know they were in your sights. I slowly straightened my head, looking back at the thick growth of trees in the far distance. I could see no one in the dark.
“John would never hurt me, you lying bitch!” My heart was racing.
“ Tsk tsk tsk . Ah, it’s so sad. You loved John once too. He tell me.”
“What the fuck did he tell you?”
“He told me you loved him before you left him out in the desert. Now, you give us the ruby, and we’ll leave you and your new love—Raven—alone.”
The very idea that this Cassanova woman would threaten Raven along with John, and the stranger from the stairwell scared the crap out of me. I didn’t even know where Raven was. I prayed to God that he’d stayed inside the Getty where at least he’d be protected from someone out here with a possible sniper rifle. I had no idea how John was involved with the other two, but it didn’t mean whoever had a laser sight pointed on my chest, wouldn’t use it. It wouldn’t…couldn’t be John. She’d only said that to freak me out.
“John would never hurt me.”
She laughed that tinkling laugh I’d come to hate. “He already has, hasn’t he?”
“How?”
“He rejected you. When you made a…how do you Americans say…a pass at him over and over, trying to get him to become a gay, he rejected you.”
I swallowed down the lie, instead realizing that John had to be working with these people. They would have no way of knowing what John and I had done trapped in the midst of a war or my Recon nickname. The fact was, he’d been just as involved and anxious to do the things we’d done together as I was. The attraction had definitely gone both ways, but I wasn’t about to say any of this to this evil bitch. She was just trying to get into my head. I ignored what she said.
“I don’t have the ruby and neither does Raven. In fact, we are done with this case. That’s what we came to tell Mrs. Flores tonight.”
Her face got stony, and I had the urge to go on, make her angrier, see what she’d say or do just to throw her off her game. I probably would have had I not had a weapon aimed at my chest. Sweat was rolling down my back and I could feel the weight of the situation stifling me as easily as the black tie I’d wrapped around my neck.
“That would be a very bad mistake,” she said. Her voice had gone as stony as her expression. “Maybe you need some incentive.” She gestured to the Getty with her knife. “Go and run and find your love while there’s still time to save him.” I watched her pull aside her gown. The slit opened and she slid the knife into a hidden sheath as fear lanced through me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Hurry. Your dear, sweet Raven…he is running out of time.”
I watched her as she turned her back and began clicking away on her stilettos, toward the grass. The urge to shoot her in the back was stronger than anything I’d ever felt but the fear that someone or something was hurting Raven was so much stronger than that. I looked down at my shirt and noticed that the laser sight was gone. When I glanced back at where she’d been, I could no longer see her. I turned and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, running as if my life depended on it as my heart slammed in my chest.