Page 42 of Vow Of Fire

Checking the drawers, I saw her jewelry was still all there, laid out in a kind of compartmentalized case. It just confirmed what I’d thought earlier.

This wasn’t a robbery.

It struck me that her apartment was very much like her. Elegant, but lived in. Stylish, yet unpretentious. Cool, yet inviting.

There was a book on the nightstand by the bed. I walked over to it, thinking she might like to read it at the cabin. It was a worn paperback with a couple embracing on the cover. The woman wore an old-fashioned turquoise gown slipping off one shoulder, the man was bare-chested and had what looked like a Scottish kilt on.

I smirked. Evelyn Cruz, a romantic. Who would’ve guessed? It went into the case along with the perfume.

I found her underwear drawer and opened it.

Goddamn, the woman had a lot of underwear.

I took out several pairs of panties and bras. There was that scent again, fainter now but unmistakable. Christ, if she tasted as good as she smelled…

A black silk bra and panty set caught my eye. I reached for it, feeling the material between my fingers. It was so soft. I imagined peeling it off her, feeling her wetness, her scent. Tasting her.

I closed my eyes as I went instantly hard. Fuck’s sake. The woman was a witch. She must be, to affect me like this.

Angry, I threw the items into the case. This wasn’t like me. Usually, I was a lot more focused.

I went to the bathroom and collected the toiletries she’d asked for. Toothbrush, deodorant, every single damn bottle of facewash or moisturizer in the cabinet.

Then I went to the closet and took out jeans, leggings, and a couple of T-shirts and sweaters, and threw them into the case. A pair of tennis shoes followed, along with some socks, and then I was done.

All that remained was to look for any evidence that she was the leak. There was no home office, but I searched through all the drawers and cabinets I could find. Nothing to do with the gallery or any shipping manifests. No correspondence or communications with Orlov, Malakov, or anybody else. Seems like Evelyn Cruz left her work at the office.

Like a ghost, I went back to the bedroom and picked up the suitcase, then left, as quietly as I’d arrived, pulling the broken door closed behind me.

11

MAFIOSO DICKHEADS

Evelyn

The cabin was silent. No noise filtered in from outside, other than the crunch of boots against gravel as one of the guards crossed in front of the window.

The other one, Kyle, had been dispatched to the nearest grocery store to buy fresh produce. I had no idea where that might be, but these were resourceful guys. I was sure he’d find something.

I had been scrutinizing the gallery’s transactions for the better part of two hours and had a list of six suspicious sales. All within the last twenty-four months.

Anger simmered inside me as I thought about how I’d been used. I was so fucking gullible. Here I was thinking I’d made a great sale, when in fact some mafioso dickhead was using me to clean his drug money, or gun money, or whatever else mobsters got up to.

Actually, it was more than one mafioso dickhead. The Marcellis, that was a given. But of these six purchases, only two were from buyers in Moscow, three were from South or Central America, and one was from Eastern Europe.

I stared at them for some time, wishing I had more information. When Dante got back with my laptop, I could check out the buyers in more detail. Chloe took meticulous notes on every purchase.

It was more for PR purposes than anything else, but it meant we had their phone numbers, email addresses, and any other background information we could gather. Chloe then sent out newsletters every month, detailing our latest acquisitions.

This digitalized customer file was not part of my accounts, so Alberto, and indeed Vincent, weren’t aware of it.

Oh God. What was I going to do about Chloe?

Luckily, we were closed on Mondays, just because we were open all day Saturday. A lot of galleries operated on the same schedule.

But she’d be worried. It was bad enough that I hadn’t returned her texts, let alone telling her I was taking a few personal days.

I didn’t doubt she could handle things until I got back though. Her and Vincent.