Chapter 23
Cass
Cole Burton lived in the exclusive Mountain Ridge neighborhood that crawled up Spring Mountain and offered three-hundred-sixty-degree views of the Vegas Strip.
Grayson and Cass were able to follow a low-slung two-seater, which looked like it carried a six-figure price tag, through the first set of gates.
Had they not caught that bit of luck at the tall gates, they’d never have gotten inside.
Cass eyed the empty guardhouse as they drove past. “No night security?”
“Don’t need it. You see those?” Grayson pointed to the statue of a sitting griffin to her right. Its twin crouched to his left.
“Yeah.”
There was no way to miss them. At least fifteen feet tall, the pair towered over the road, their stone gazes fixed on those foolish enough to enter. Strategically placed accent lights cast eerie shadows across the fierce stone profiles.
“They’re spelled.” Grayson didn’t appear too worried about it as he drove between the pair. “My guess, if you pass through with bad intentions, they don’t let you get too far.”
Cass shivered under the weight of the inhuman gazes and hoped he was right. “That’s a hell of a security option.”
“It’s intimidating, and that tends to work better than anything else to keep the rabble out,” Grayson said.
They continued through the neighborhood, and Cass couldn’t help but gawk. Each home was like an architectural masterpiece. “Holy crap. These places must be worth a small fortune.”
“And most are just Family summer homes,” Grayson said drily.
Okay, there can’t be that many wealthy Families in Vegas. “Not just local Families, I’m guessing.”
“You’d guess right.” He turned onto a road that curved along the mountain. “But a few of these are owned by various entertainment companies.”
“I’m sure that goes over well with the neighbors.”
They came around a curve and hit another gate paired with a call box. Grayson pulled up then turned to her. “Ready?”
She nodded.
He lowered his window and hit the button to announce their presence.
After a few moments, Burton asked, “Can I help you?”
“Cole, it’s Grayson Beck and Cassandra Alcmene. We were hoping to have a few minutes of your time.”
“Grayson, what a surprise. Please, come on up.” There was a click, and the gates rolled back.
Grayson followed the long drive up the ridge, where a stunning multilevel home came into view.
Lights lined each level of the house, whose stairs stepped down the side of the mountain as if the place had been grown from the rock.
If the intent was to blend the structure into its surroundings, it worked.
The drive ended in front of a multicar garage, where they parked and got out.
Together, they climbed the stone stairs up to the first-level porch, where a barefoot Cole in linen pants and T-shirt stood waiting, haloed in warm light from the tall, narrow windows that sat on either side of the open, heavy wooden door.
Behind him was a foyer, its chandelier doubling as an art piece as it spotlit a massive framed painting of a desert canyon on the foyer wall.
Cole greeted them with a smile. “Evening, you two. Come on in.”
“We’re sorry to just drop by.” Grayson took the lead, shaking the older man’s hand.
“Not a problem.” Cole held the door and waved them inside.
Cass crossed the threshold then waited until Grayson came up behind her. He set his hand at the base of her spine as Cole closed the door. “We were hoping we could speak with you about a recent situation,” Grayson said.
Cole’s polite smile melted into a frown. “That sounds ominous.”
“It’s complicated,” Grayson said.
“Well, then, let’s chat.” Cole moved past them. “We can grab a seat in here.”
They followed him through an archway and into a living room done in muted earth tones and wood accents that managed to be both cozy and spacious.
A cream-colored L-shaped couch angled around a low coffee table.
To the right, Cass’s attention was drawn to a wall of glass that could be opened to merge the living room with the patio, which offered a stunning view of the dancing lights of the Strip.
“Cole, is everything all right?”
The question came from Dana, who was curled up in the corner of a second L-shaped couch that mirrored the first. Both couches faced a large fireplace paired with a built-in bookcase, over which hung a wall-mounted TV, the screen frozen in mid-explosion.
Behind the couches was another wide opening, this one leading into a kitchen.
A waterfall counter with four pub-style chairs sat lengthwise, guarded on either side by nooks filled with appliances and lit spaces.
Behind it all was another picture window that framed the shadowed outline of the mountain.
Clearly, Grayson and Cass had interrupted an intimate evening in.
“Dana, you remember Grayson and Cassandra?” Cole skirted the coffee table, where a half-filled tumbler and bowl of popcorn sat, as Dana extracted herself from the couch. He arrived in time to take her wineglass as she got to her feet.
“From yesterday, yes.” Upright, she brushed a hand down a feminine version of what Cole was wearing, as if smoothing out unsightly wrinkles. She gave them a polite, if puzzled, smile. “Hello again.”
Cass did an awkward finger wave even as a rustle of feathers drowned out Grayson’s murmured “Hello.”
Cass’s heart stalled as she fought not to react to the warning.
Her skin chilled as she reached behind her to where Grayson’s hand still rested and curled her cold fingers around his wrist. He gave a small jolt and shot her a puzzled look.
For a moment, she wished she could talk to him mind to mind, but that was just wishful thinking.
She gave the tiniest shake of her head before turning back to the other couple.
Luckily, neither Dana nor Cole was watching their exchange.
Dana reclaimed her wineglass with a soft “Let me just take that, darling.”
Cole handed her the glass then curled his arm around her, bringing her close. There was a pause, then with an ease that indicated she’d found herself in similar situations before, Dana waved her wineglass hand out. “Why don’t I just—”
“No, please, stay,” Cass cut in, hoping her smile didn’t appear as fake as it felt. “We shouldn’t be long. We just have a couple of questions for Mr. Burton.”
“Cole,” the man corrected as he motioned them to the couch. “Please have a seat. Can we offer you something to drink? Water? Tea? Something stronger?”
“Water, please.” Cass took a seat on the closest couch, leaving room for Grayson to take the spot next to her.
“Same for me, please.” Grayson sat and rested his ankle on his knee.
“Why don’t I grab those for us?” Without losing Cole’s arm, Dana set her wineglass on the coffee table and picked up his half-filled tumbler. When she straightened, she turned in to Cole and brushed her free hand over his chest. “Did you want a refresh?”
“Please.” He touched his lips to the top of her head and let her go. “Thank you.”
She gave him a smile and made her way to the kitchen.
Cass watched her move past the stove and to the nook near the back wall.
Dana set the tumbler on the inset counter and opened the cabinet above, the door hiding her from view.
When Grayson squeezed Cass’s shoulder gently in warning, she turned back to the conversation.
Cole had taken a seat at the end of the second couch, facing them, his attention on Cass. “You had questions for me?”
She hoped her smile wasn’t as shaky as she felt as she rubbed her hands down her thighs. Between the day’s events and the auditory warning, she was feeling decidedly off-balance. That warning—had it been about Cole? Dana? Or a sign of something coming?
She set the questions aside and started to pick her way through the murky unknown. “I understand you talked to my mother earlier today.”
He nodded. “I did.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she pushed. “May I ask what you spoke about?”
Cole cocked his head, his pleasant demeanor replaced by a steady, considering gaze. “For the last week, Burton Entertainment has been in the midst of some complex negotiations on a new venture.”
Considering who Cole was, Cass wasn’t surprised her mother would be the one to act as his negotiation strategist. “I’m assuming Pythia was providing advice on how to maneuver successfully through these negotiations.”
“Yes.” His fingers began to tap on his knee. “Early this morning, Dana was informed our potential partners were grappling with some concerns. In order to mitigate those concerns, I required Pythia’s input. Hence my call to Rhea.”
It sounded legit, but it didn’t fit. There had to be more than simple business involved. She took a chance and pressed harder. “And that was all you spoke about? The contract negotiation?”
Cole’s gaze sharpened. “Yes.”
Frustration bloomed, so she switched gears. “During your conversation with my mother, did anything happen?”
Cole’s fingers stilled, and he frowned. “Like what?”
“Did she cut the call short? Was she interrupted?” Grayson covered her hand, and only then did she realize she’d been nervously plucking at her pants.
“No.” Cole’s eyes flickered to Grayson’s hand on her thigh then came back to her. Whatever he saw on her face had him leaning forward, his forearms braced on his knees. “Why? What’s going on?”
She searched his face, hoping to spot a sign that she was being played. When all that stared back was genuine concern, she looked at Grayson. He, too, was studying Cole intently. When he turned to her, he squeezed her hand, dipped his chin, then let her go.
Okay, so I’m not missing anything.
Reassured, she took a steadying breath. “At some point this afternoon, my father was attacked, and my mother is now missing.”
There was a gasp from Dana, who had paused halfway into the living room, holding a tray with two tall smoked glasses and one whiskey tumbler, her mouth opened in a small o of shock.