Chapter 21 Brady
brADY
A last-minute reservation brings us to a boutique hotel close to the heavily tourist-trafficked riverfront.
“This is a lot nicer than I imagined when you said we were going to find a hotel.” Elizabeth’s gaze drifts over the hardwood floors and white crown moldings before snagging a mint from what looks like an antique candy dish. “I think I’ll hide from the baddies with you anytime.”
I squeeze her hand hard. “Behave.”
“What are the chances of you letting me go to the bathroom alone?” She lifts one eyebrow at me. “It’s getting to be an urgent situation.”
I look at the door several feet away in the tiny lobby. I’d be able to watch the entrance from the reception desk. “Hurry.”
“Bossy,” she says over her shoulder.
“Stubborn,” I call back, and am rewarded with a small laugh.
I exhale in relief. I’d worried how Elizabeth would handle another run-in with armed men, but she seems to take it in stride.
Once I explained to her my plan to hide essentially in plain sight, she’d relaxed.
We walked the streets of Savannah holding hands, looking like every other couple on vacation.
Except my eyes were constantly scanning for the two men or anyone else who seemed to watch us too closely.
When there hadn’t been another sighting in two hours, we made our way to the hotel I’d located online.
“As I said on the phone, sir.” The front desk clerk offers me an apologetic smile. “We only have one room left.”
“Not a problem,” I say with a smile of my own, doing my best not to think about the implications of what he said.
One bed. With Elizabeth. How the hell am I going to keep my hands off her after that kiss?
The universe hates me.
I don’t say a word about the sleeping arrangements as we climb the staircase. When Elizabeth pauses just past the threshold, her gaze skims over the queen-size bed and then farther into the small room, searching for a sofa that doesn’t exist. I brace for her reaction.
“Only room left.” I lift my hands in a sheepish gesture.
“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say.” She doesn’t sound upset, and I let out my breath.
She nods toward the bathroom. “I’m going to change.”
“Into what?” Neither of us brought extra clothing, expecting to return to Atlanta the same day.
“The robe.”
For a split second, my brain short-circuits. I picture her in soft, white terry cloth, cinched at the waist, nothing underneath. My mouth goes dry.
I shake my head hard, shrug off my overshirt, and hang it on the back of a small chair, before setting my holster and gun on the table within easy reach. Retrieving my phone, I call Vincent.
“We had a tail in Savannah. I’m pretty sure they didn’t follow us here. They may have come across the same lease and had the same thought we did. But just in case, I’m not risking going back for our vehicle, so I need you to have one delivered to us.”
“Anything specific?”
“Silver or blue. Mid-size SUV. No GPS in case their guy’s better than Finn thinks.”
“You want weapons stashed?”
I picture Elizabeth’s face. “Yeah. I’m not taking any chances.”
My gaze flicks to the bathroom. I can hear faint movement inside. The quiet thump of a hanger against the wooden door.
“You want me to send backup?”
I think it over, weighing the risks. “No, I think we’re okay for tonight. My gut tells me they were checking the apartment, but I want to play it safe. We’ll lie low until tomorrow.”
“Did you find anything at the apartment?”
“A burner,” I say, leaning back in the chair. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it yet.”
We finish the logistics, and he promises to text me the address where someone will drop off the car. Ending the call, I set my phone on the table and turn toward the sound of the bathroom door opening.
My brain stalls.
Elizabeth steps into the room, and for a second I can’t look away. She’s wrapped in a thin, white cotton robe, her hair loose around her face. Her pink lips lift in a smile when she sees me.
She’s beautiful.
As Elizabeth moves to the table, and I can almost believe we are on a romantic getaway like the other couples we passed today. I force myself to blink and focus on the job and not on the way the material clings to her breasts as she walks, the two sides fluttering, showing a hint of her bare legs.
“So,” she says, lips quirking. “What are we going to do for the rest of the day?”
My voice comes out a little rough. “First things first—room service.”
“I could eat.”
She takes the menu, and leans one hip against the table. I attempt to concentrate on the burner phone in my hand instead of the curve of her waist and the peeks I’m getting of her creamy skin. My gaze lasers onto the hanging belt. One pull and…
“What do you want?” Her question makes my eyes snap to hers.
“Burger,” I say gruffly.
Get your head in the game, asshole.
She calls in the order while I scroll through the burner phone.
“There aren’t many numbers.” I hold the screen toward her. “Recognize any?”
She leans in, the faint scent of her shampoo filling my nose, reminding me of the night before, causing my temperature to skyrocket. She shakes her head. “I don’t even recognize the country codes.”
Finn answers on the second ring. “I was expecting you. Vincent told me you found a burner.”
“I need you to trace some numbers.” I read them off.
“Gimme a sec.” After several minutes, he says, “A few are burners—it’ll take me a while to trace those—but I’ve got their batch numbers. Two are landlines in Monaco. No subscriber names though. Monaco is a lot like Switzerland or Cypress, for people who don’t want to be identified.”
“I’ll call them and see what I can find.” I hang up and dial the first landline.
A polished female voice answers in French. “Bonjour, Maison de Bijoux—”
“Pardon, mauvais numéro,” I apologize for the wrong number, then hang up. “Jewelry store.”
Elizabeth tilts her head. “You speak French?”
“I’m a man of many talents.” I waggle my brows.
The second number answers in French-accented English. “C?te d’Azur Antiquités et Enchères, how may I help—”
“Désolé, wrong number.” Ending the call, I look up at Elizabeth. “Auction house.”
“A jewelry store and an auction house. So, whatever he took… jewelry or jewels?”
“Seems that way,” I agree, already dialing Finn. When he answers I give him the two business names. “Check those names against Gowan’s emails and bank statements. Start six months before the divorce through to the present. Include any deleted data.”
“Got it, Boss” “
A knock at the door signals our food’s arrival. We keep the conversation light while we eat, an unspoken agreement to push pause on what’s happening. However, when the plates are cleared, I pull the stack of glossy magazines from my bag and drop them on the bed.
“Let’s see why he kept these.”
Elizabeth perches on the edge of the bed, robe tucked tight around her, while I spread the magazines out.
“Should we just flip through and make a list of rich people?” she asks, half-teasing.
“It’s as good a starting point as any. The Lapidarists didn’t limit themselves to one industry, so it could be anyone with money. We should take special note of anyone who is in more than one magazine.”
She nods, and we settle in shoulder to shoulder, flipping through the glossy pages. I stop on a two-page spread of a political fundraiser—the head of a hedge fund standing next to a U.S. senator. Both have wide smiles.
“Perfect example.” I tap the senator’s face.
“This is the senator who died in the accidental explosion on the lake last year. His aide was the one who was poisoned in police custody. And this one,” I tap on the other man’s picture.
“His brother is one of the people I arrested. So that’s at least one Lapidarist connection. ”
“Why would Keith keep the magazines though?”
“If we’re operating on the theory Natalya gave him something…
” I lean back, thinking. “Calling an auction house and jewelry store implies he was trying to sell it. Maybe he couldn’t and brought it back to the States to sell.
There’s no record, though, that he tried to sell it by any reputable means here. ”
Elizabeth wrinkles her nose. “He wouldn’t have been dumb enough to try to sell it back to Carrow, would he?”
Grabbing my phone, I dial Finn again. “Find out if Carrow ever filed an insurance claim for missing jewelry or jewels.” He calls back less than twenty minutes later to tell us there is no insurance claim.
“He didn’t know it was gone.” Elizabeth purses her lips, deep in thought. “If he just found out, that might be why he killed Natalya.”
“Why would he care that much?”
“It was a gift? Maybe he found out Natalya had cheated and gave his gift away. He could have snapped.”
I shake my head. “He has an alibi.” I hold up a hand to silence her protest. “I’m not saying he’s not responsible. I’m saying he didn’t do it himself. Which means it wasn’t a crime of passion. Something about whatever it is, is important enough to kill to get it back.”
And why would the Lapidarists be involved?
I flip another few pages, scanning a gala photo thoughtfully. “What if Gowan was trying to identify other members for some reason?” My brows bunch. “How the hell would he even know the Lapidarists existed?”
“Maybe Natalya told him,” Elizabeth theorizes. “But what does that have to do with what he was trying to sell?”
I shake my head. There are too many pieces that don’t fit. “If she knew the importance of the item, would she risk giving Keith something that they valued? And why would they care about a piece of jewelry? Unless it’s evidence of a crime.”
Elizabeth exhales a frustrated breath and then throws herself backward on the bed. “Ouch.”
“Pain pill?” I ask, instantly alert.
“No, I don’t need one yet, but it will be good for when I need to sleep.”
I nod and glance at the bed. “Until then… want to watch a movie? Binge a series?”
She looks thoughtful. “I haven’t done that in years.”
“Then we should definitely fix that.”
Ten minutes later, we’re on the queen bed watching a 90s sitcom.
At first, Elizabeth sits upright, propped up against the pillows, but as the episodes roll on, she relaxes against me.
Her head rests on my shoulder, and I slide an arm around her without thinking.
Eventually, her head is on my shoulder, her warm weight heavy against my side.
By the time her breathing evens out, I know two things for sure—Carrow is going to give me the answers I want, and I’m never letting this woman curled against me go.