The Secret Brokers (34 page)

Rennie shook her head. “There is no one else. I need someone who has worked as a specialist and who knows the business. And I need someone I can trust.”

“You don’t trust me, Lauren. And I will never trust you.”
He took another sip of his vodka.

“What’s the matter, Dallas? Did I get too close for comfort?”
She lifted her glass to her lips. “I remember how we felt together that night. You can’t tell me it meant nothing to you.”

Dallas slammed his glass down on the counter. “It did mean nothing. It was a job.”

Rennie put her glass down on the counter next to his. “Careful, Dallas. Your emotions are showing.”
She slowly eased her way to his side. “I want to show you something.”
She took his hand and coaxed him from his stool.

He reluctantly let her lead him across the shiny hardwood floor to the “emergency exit” door on the other side of the apartment.

“Lucky for you, and your co-conspirators, the police never found it. But unfortunately someone else saw this in the wall.” She stopped in front of a small chip in the red-bricked wall about three feet to the right of the “emergency exit” door.

Dallas moved in closer to the wall and inspected the quarter size gouge in the brick. “Bullet hole?” he surmised.

“A .38 caliber bullet hole. It was fired from the same gun that killed Greg Caston and Jenny Ryan.”

Dallas turned to Rennie. “Jenny Ryan is alive and well. You mean Nicci Beauvoir, don’t you?”

Rennie nodded.

“How do you know the bullet came from the same gun?” Dallas asked.

She sighed and headed across the apartment to a dark oak desk. She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a small plastic bag. She walked back to Dallas, holding out the bag to him.

Inside the clear plastic Dallas discovered a bullet, flattened upon impact. Dallas thought back to the night of the shooting. He remembered the one shot Simon got off from his gun before he hit the floor, dead. Dallas silently berated himself for not checking the wall after he and Lance had cleaned the apartment. Up until that moment, he had forgotten about the single shot fired by Simon. He had been careless, and now it seemed he had put everyone in jeopardy.

“Where did you get this?” he questioned, never looking up from the bullet.

“It was given to me in New York by that former associate of Greg’s I told you about. He made it quite clear that he knows who killed Greg Caston and Jenny Ryan.”

“Jenny Ryan?”

“Yes, he specifically said Jenny Ryan.” She nodded to the bullet. “He’s going to expose Nicci and David if I don’t help him.”

Dallas felt his heart sink to the floor. “Who sent you this?”

“Greg’s brother, Ted Caston,” Rennie stated. “He owns one of the largest steel mills in Pennsylvania and wants his competitor’s contracts with India sabotaged so he can take them over. I either help him or he will go to the feds with everything he knows about my organization.” She pointed to the plastic bag containing the bullet. “And he plans on telling the media the truth about his brother’s murder.”

“I thought he and Greg didn’t speak. From all that I learned, he kicked Greg out of the family trust fund years ago. What is he doing mixed up with all of this?”

Rennie stepped closer to Dallas. “I never met the man until he showed up at my New York gallery two weeks ago wanting to hire me. I have no idea how he found out about that bullet hole.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And believe me, I have tried to find out. No one in my organization admits to ever knowing anything about him.”

“Why is he approaching you with this now?”

“Money,” Rennie shrugged. “Steel production around the world is down and his business is suffering. The Indian government has been buying up steel from selected companies within the United States. Ted Caston needs those contracts with the Indian government to keep his mill running at full capacity. I give him the information he needs to get those contracts from his competitor, Scott Corbin, and he says he will keep his mouth shut about the organization and his brother’s death.”

Dallas blew out a long breath between his clenched teeth. “Well, it would seem Greg and his brother have a lot more in common than we originally thought.” He looked her over. “When are you supposed to get back to him with your plans?”

“There’s a showing at my New York gallery next week. He will be there along with the target, Scott Corbin. If I don’t make some kind of move by then, he said he will take that to mean I’m not interested in helping him, and he will have no option but to talk to the feds.”

“We need to do some digging on Ted Caston. See if there is anything we can use to shut him down.”

Rennie moved closer to Dallas. “Does that mean we will be working together on this?”

He gazed into her blue-green eyes. “Do I have a choice?”

“You can simply walk away.”

“You know I can’t do that. But I think you already knew I would take the job, didn’t you, Lauren?”

“I knew you would be you, Dallas. Methodical, precise, and a man who leaves no stone unturned. And I also knew you would want to protect your friends.” She ran her fingers along the side of his face. “Did I mention that it’s good to see you again,” she whispered.

Dallas felt his skin tingle with her slightest touch. He took in a deep breath and tried to reign in his desire. He closed his eyes and reached up for her hand, and then he slowly lowered her hand from his face.

“This is business,” he firmly said.

Rennie smiled. “Is it?”

Dallas watched the way her nose crinkled on her face when she smiled. His carefully planned defenses against her were beginning to crumble.

“Don’t complicate matters by throwing you and I into the mix, Lauren. We need to remain objective.”

“No, we don’t,” she insisted as she pressed against him.

She placed her hand on his gray
suit
jacket and ran her fingers up his lapel until she came to the knot on his pale yellow tie. Slowly, Rennie began to undo his tie. “Anyway, I think you like complicated matters, Dallas,” she softly added.

Dallas grinned as he watched her pull the tie from around his neck and toss it to the floor. “Then we will need some ground rules. First, I don’t like being lied to or deceived, Lauren.”

“Duly noted.” She nodded her head as she slowly pushed the jacket off his shoulders.

Dallas let the jacket fall from his arms to the floor. “If we are to work together, you must tell me everything you know. And I must make the decisions regarding where and how we will proceed.”

“I run my own operations, Dallas,” she replied, furrowing her brow at him. “Any decisions made about this assignment will have to be mutually agreed on by both parties. Deal?”

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating her request. “I’ll think about that.”

Rennie began undoing the buttons on his light gray shirt. “And you’ll stop calling me Lauren?”

“I’ll think about that, too.”

Rennie studied his artic eyes as she reached inside of his shirt and ran her hands along his smooth chest. “I guess we have a deal then. So, ah, how do you propose we seal this bargain?” she whispered as she raised her head to his.

Dallas grinned. “I have something in mind.” His lips hungrily came down on hers.

Rennie eased her arms about his neck as she opened her mouth for him.

Dallas wrapped his arms about her and pulled at the zipper on the back of her dress. He eased the heavy fabric of the gown from around her shoulders and pushed the dress down to the floor. Dallas ran his hands over her breasts and slim waist until he came to the elastic waistband of her white cotton panties.

“Think you can handle the rest?” he whispered to her.

Rennie backed away from him. When she reached the stairs, she turned and quickly climbed the steps to the open loft bedroom above.

Dallas walked toward the stairs, keeping his eyes on her body as she darted up the steps. He pulled the light gray shirt from around his shoulders and casually tossed it over the iron railing. With a contented grin on his lips, Dallas August climbed the wooden steps one by one until he reached her bedroom.

A tall, slender man in the fitted black tuxedo walked up to the Greg Caston Galleries on West 25
th
street in the Chelsea Art District of Manhattan. The four-story, red-bricked building was lit up as waiters carrying silver trays filled with flutes of champagne wandered among the black tie guests mingling about the entrance.

The man with dark blue eyes took a flute of champagne offered to him by a round-faced waiter. He walked purposefully into the gallery, casually sipping his champagne as he went. Women along the way let their eyes linger on his handsome face and toned physique.

“Your name please, sir,” a young woman asked as the man stepped inside of the gallery entrance.

“Dallas August,” he said to the attractive woman holding a clipboard beside him.

“I’ve got this Rita,” Rennie Davis insisted as she came up to the young woman’s side.

Dallas looked into Rennie’s blue-green eyes and grinned.

“Yes, Ms. Davis,” Rita replied and quickly moved away from Dallas.

Dallas followed the line of Rennie’s black velvet gown as it hugged the curves of her body and flared out at the knees. She had pulled her blond hair back in a bun, and had applied smoky shadow around her eyes. The effect was breathtaking.

“You look nice this evening, Lauren,” Dallas commented.

“Nice?” She eyed him skeptically. “You do realize I will make you pay for that later.”

“Lets hope so,” he whispered to her. He looked ahead to the gallery. “Is he here?”

Rennie nodded. “Arrived ten minutes ago with his wife and an assistant. They’re on the second floor.”

Dallas raised his glass of champagne to his lips. “And the target?”

She watched as he took a sip from his drink. “He’s in the main gallery on the first floor with his assistant and a very young girlfriend draped on his arm.” She paused and frowned at Dallas. “Did you tell David Alexander about any of this?”

Dallas shook his head. “No. Let’s just see where Ted Caston leads us before we go alerting anyone of our plans.” He started toward the gallery, but Rennie held his arm.

“You do realize that Ted Caston has more money than God and his connections go directly to the White House.”

“So I have been told.”

“If he wants to destroy your friends…
.
”

“He would have done it by now, Rennie. He needs you. Whatever information he is after, he will be compliant until he gets it.”

Rennie rubbed her hands together. “And then what?”

Dallas shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go along.”

Rennie laughed. “You?”

Dallas gave her a warm smile. “Yeah, I guess you could say you’re rubbing off on me.”

Rennie leaned over to him. “Just don’t get killed. Then who would I have to share my secrets with?” she whispered.

“Your secrets?” Dallas scoffed. “You’re not the kind of woman who shares her secrets.”

“I only keep my secrets from you, Dallas. To the rest of the world I’m an open book.”

“Somehow I find that very hard to believe.”

Rennie nodded toward the gallery. “In the meantime, Caston is waiting.”

Dallas took in a breath as he gazed down at the champagne glass in his hands. “A year ago I thought I had put all of this behind me. But it seems I might never be free of what happened that night in New Orleans.”

“We’ll end it. I promise.” Rennie gently patted his arm. “I don’t want to watch you spend the rest of your life having doubts about your past.”

“Do you plan on being there for the rest of my life, Rennie?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Dallas explored her blue-green eyes for a moment. “Exactly what are you proposing?” he eventually asked.

“Who said anything about proposing? You and I both know we’re not cut out for marriage.”

“Perhaps we should talk about this in private,” he coolly suggested.

Rennie gave an impatient sigh. “Debate about it, you mean.”

“That too,” he countered. “You never know, one day we might want to get married.”

“One day, but not today. Now be a good boy and follow me to the target.”

Dallas nodded. “Yes, dear.”

She gave him a dirty look and turned away.

He marveled at the sway of her hips as she walked ahead of him. Perhaps he had finally found the right woman for him. Maybe he had discovered that different kind of happiness Lance had once spoken of. He had learned to embrace a woman who could accept what he was, and to let go of the woman who had wanted to change him. Dallas knew he had not been cut out for the kind of life Nicci had desired for him. He had loved Nicci, but he realized at that moment what he had shared with her had not been realistic. Pretending to be someone else in order to hold on to her had only made them both unhappy. In a way, he was indebted to Nicci. She had shown him what he could never be. He was not David. And for the first time in his life, he was grateful, and not resentful, of that fact. He was a secret broker. Good or bad, for better or for worse, Dallas August was exactly where he wanted to be.