“Again? Did I feel comfortable with you before?”
His lips twitched. “Well, you know what I mean.”
She thought about that. “Tell me your true name.”
He turned his attention to their left as Richard left the coffee shop. “Can’t do that.”
“Then I guess we’ve reached an impasse.”
“I guess so.” His jaw clenched.
They continued to follow Richard’s car as he got onto the highway headed west and after twenty minutes stopped in front of a motel by the Toronto airport. The booming sound of planes departing and arriving overhead filled Eden’s ears. Eden parked at the curb and quickly wrote down the address in her notebook.
“Get the camera ready again,” Darrak said. “I think we’ve got something here.”
Eden fumbled with the digital camera and raised it up so she could look at the viewscreen. She zoomed in on Richard getting out of his car and walking up to a motel room door. He knocked. The door opened and a blond woman stepped outside, embracing and kissing him passionately.
She snapped a few pictures, her heart sinking.
“I guess Fay was right,” she said. “There’s the mistress.” Fay herself was a beautiful woman, but this girl—and she couldn’t have been too far into her twenties—had a blatantly sexy appearance. Bimbo might be a good word to use. Tight clothes, short skirt. Long bleached blond hair. Big red lips. Big boobs that Eden could tell, even from thirty feet away, were fake.
“See, humans use glamours as well,” Darrak said pointedly. “It’s used to improve on what’s already there.”
“You think that’s an improvement?”
“It’s certainly… eye-catching. But even you use glamours. Your hair color for one, your makeup. When you wear high heels. It’s an unnatural way to enhance your undeniable natural beauty.”
She rolled her eyes. “If you’re trying to get on my good side again, just know you were never on that side to begin with.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try.” His gaze moved down from her face. “Your breasts, however, unlike this woman’s, are completely and flawlessly natural.”
She’d had a feeling that her shirt was too low cut for a Thursday. “Thanks for the newsflash.”
“My pleasure. Really.”
Eden expected Richard to disappear into the fake-breasted woman’s motel room, but instead she got in the car with him. Eden followed as they drove a mile down the street to a strip club called Kristoff’s. The car stopped at the front doors, the girl got out, and Richard drove away.
“Taxi service?” Eden said out loud. “That was unexpected.”
“I tried to sense any magical essence coming from the girl but didn’t get anything. I’m not at full strength so I could be wrong. You should go in there and talk to her. Find out who she is.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“All we need to know is if he’s cheating on his wife against his will by being magically coerced. It happens more often than you think. Needy witches and their spells.” His expression turned sour. “They won’t take no for an answer.”
“Sounds like a really bad date.”
“You have no idea.”
She scribbled down her location in the spiral-bound notebook she’d kept beside her all day. “And what if she is a witch?”
His jaw tensed. “Then you get your cute little ass out of there as quickly as possible.”
“You’re not coming with me?”
“No. I’ll have to stay close, but not too close. If she’s really a witch she might be able to sense what I am. And it’s doubtful she’ll be happy to see a demon.”
“Don’t go too far.”
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Wish me luck.”
Before she got all the way out of the car, Darrak grabbed her hand and squeezed it in his before bringing it to his lips. She turned to look at him with surprise at his heated touch.
“Be careful,” he said.
“I’ll do my best.”
She walked up to the strip club and opened the front door. It was dark and empty inside, but a big, broad-shouldered bartender was behind the bar, wiping the counter with a wet cloth.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.”
“Can I help you?”
“I was just…” She cleared her throat nervously. “The girl who just came in here a minute ago—”
“You mean Vanessa?”
“That’s the one.”
“I’ll get her for you. No problem.” He disappeared from behind the counter before she could say another word.
A minute later the bleached blonde in question came out of the back room through a beaded curtain. She teetered on black patent leather stilettos as she walked toward Eden with a big smile on her face. She wore a short red miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and a sparkly black tank top.
“I’m glad you got here early,” Vanessa said. “Please, have a seat and we can do the interview right away.”
“Interview?” Eden’s eyebrows shot up. “But, I’m not—” She shut her mouth before she said anything else. “That’s great. I really appreciate it.”
She’d been mistaken as somebody coming in to apply for a job at the club. Did she really look like she could work as a stripper?
It didn’t matter. The opportunity had nicely presented itself to get a sense of who this Vanessa person was and if she was corrupting Fay’s husband into having an affair with her as if she was using a magical roofie.
She took a seat on a precariously high stool at the table Vanessa indicated. The blonde had a piece of paper in front of her.
“You have lots of experience,” Vanessa said. “That’s fantastic.”
“Totally,” Eden agreed, although she wasn’t sure what kind of experience she was claiming.
“Was this two-year gig at the Eager Beaver in Dallas all-nude?”
“Yes, yes it was. Completely.”
“Good stuff. We like the girls here to be completely comfortable with their bodies.”
Okay, so she was a stripper looking for a job. She had to get into character. “You are looking at somebody who feels exactly that way. I’m ready to get completely and totally naked.”
Perhaps the less she got into character, the better.
“Your thoughts on lap dancing?” Vanessa asked pointedly.
“I’m…” Eden bit her bottom lip. “All for it? Provided the, uh, customer follows the… rules of the club?”
“We have bouncers to protect you. Don’t worry. If somebody gets frisky, they are so out of here. Like other places, you’re allowed to touch the customer, but he, or she, isn’t allowed to touch you.”
“Awesome,” Eden said weakly. She was definitely not a natural at this. Plus, as Darrak liked to remind her, she was a bit of a prude. “So, you’re… you’re a dancer here?”
“I am. And I’m also the brand-new owner of this club.” Vanessa grinned, showing off very white teeth. “It’s so exciting having all this responsibility.”
Eden struggled to stay on the high stool. “You’re so young, too. It’s quite an accomplishment to be a business owner at your age.”
“I’m twenty-five. That’s not too young. But I have to admit, this was a gift from my boyfriend. He bought me the club last week when they were going to shut it down. We’re closed right now to hire some new girls and to do some renovations.”
“That’s the man I saw drop you off outside?” Eden asked, then added, “I was parking my car at the time and couldn’t help but notice you and him.”
Her smile only grew. “Yes, that’s Richard. He’s so wonderful.”
Wonderful. Well, that was debatable. Fay said he was an accountant. Eden was sure he would make a decent salary, but enough to buy his mistress her own strip club? She didn’t need a PI license to notice that smelled a bit funny.
“Generous,” she said.
“He is.”
Eden glanced over at the T-s
haped stage with three strategically placed poles. “Have you been dating him long?”
“Three weeks tomorrow.” Vanessa cocked her head to the side. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the one being interviewed here, not me.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m naturally curious.” Eden focused very hard and tried to sense something Otherworldly emanating from the girl. Was she a witch? Or was something else going on here?
And would a witch willingly put up pink neon wall art that looked like ten-foot-wide breasts?
A witch with bad taste might.
“It’s okay,” Vanessa said. “Actually, I love talking about Richard. I’ve never been so happy.”
“And he feels the same?”
“I hope so.” She sighed. “He’s so totally intense. Like when he looks in your eyes it feels like you’re being taken over completely, body and soul. Actually, that freaked me out a bit when we first met. I normally prefer guys who are way more casual. But Richard wanted me. And he didn’t take no for an answer.”
“Sounds a bit like a stalker.”
Vanessa laughed it off. “It does, doesn’t it? But I’m fine with it now. He likes to pick me up and drive me places. And he’s kind of jealous, which, considering my career, is not easy to deal with. But right now I’m so in love with him that it doesn’t matter.”
Despite her light tone, Eden could sense there was something unsaid there. A strange edge of desperation caused by more than her torturous choice of footwear.
“Do you know anything about him? Like where he works? Who his friends are?”
Vanessa’s smile faded. “I don’t need to know anything except what he tells me.” Her thin, arched brows drew together. “Let’s get back on your interview, okay? And keep the personal stuff out of this.”
“Yeah, of course. No problem.”
But it was a problem. Eden could tell, without any psychic skills at all, that this girl was in trouble. And she needed to keep her talking.
Eden shifted a bit on the stool and tried not to fall off. “You know, what you’ve told me about Richard reminds me of a boyfriend I had back in college.”
“Oh yeah?”
“He was really good-looking and friendly and everybody liked him. Including me. I was head over heels for the guy. But when we were alone he was completely different. A real jerk, actually.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Eden gripped the edge of the table. Damn. Why was she talking about this? There were parts of her life she really would prefer to keep in the past. Way in the past. But if it might help right now, then it was worth it.
“He wasn’t nice. Let’s just put it that way. But I’d convinced myself that he was so wonderful in other areas that it made up for the bad stuff.”
“So what happened?”
Eden cringed at the memories she normally kept tightly locked up and hidden away. “I ended up in the hospital for a while with a few broken bones, which was when I finally clued in that he wasn’t any good for me. And I’m not saying it wasn’t hard. There was a part of me that really did love him—he was the last guy I really felt that way about, actually. So ever since then I guess I’ve built up a bit of a brick wall when it comes to men so I don’t get hurt again. Nobody’s even come close to breaking through.”
Awesome. Eden Riley’s past mistakes and lousy relationships used as a way to bond with the mistress of a client’s husband. Those were some dark times and one of the many reasons she hadn’t finished her college degree.
Thank God for the superglue of time and distance. The broken bones only took a couple of months to mend and she was sure it wouldn’t take much longer for the rest of her to be completely repaired as well.
It was a goal.
“What was his name?” Vanessa asked.
“Zack. He was a fraternity guy. Lots of money, big future. I’m sure he’s somewhere doing something important right now.”
Vanessa looked angry on Eden’s behalf. “Sounds like an asshole.”
“Oh, he was. But that money helped him buy me lots of nice things when he wanted to get back on my good side. And it almost always worked, I’m sorry to admit. It’s definitely two years of my life I’d like to have back if I had the choice.”
Vanessa glanced around the empty club and then down at the paper in front of her that held the stripping resume of whomever Eden was impersonating. “Sounds familiar, actually.”
This girl wasn’t a witch casting spells to get some supernatural attention. This was a twenty-five-year-old exotic dancer who was in over her head and was playing along so she wouldn’t get any bones broken. Or worse.
Did Fay know what kind of a man she’d married? If she had, she probably wouldn’t have given up so much to be with him.
“Vanessa, if you want to talk—”
“Not a good idea.” She slipped off the stool she sat on. “I think this interview is over. Thanks for coming in. I really appreciate it. I have some other girls coming in, but I’ll let you know by next week, okay?”
This interview was over. Time to get to the important stuff. “Okay, full disclosure. I’m not who you think I am.”
Vanessa frowned. “You’re not Sugar LaCroix?”
“Uh… definitely not. No, I work for a private investigation agency.” Eden produced a Triple-A business card from her purse and handed it to her.
“This is about Richard?”
“Yes.”
A shadow of anger came over her pretty face. “So you were just making all that up about your ex-boyfriend to trick me into talking about him?”
“I wanted you to talk about him, but I didn’t make anything up. Unfortunately, it was all the ugly truth.”
“Who hired you?”
“His wife.”
Vanessa swore under her breath. “I knew he was married.” She blinked and looked up from the card. “You know, there’s something really not right about him. I thought it was just my imagination, but now I’m starting to believe there’s more to it than meets the eye.”
Eden was about to ask for more details when she was startled by a painful lurch in her stomach.
What was happening?
It was the same feeling she’d had in the elevator when she and Darrak had been separated too much. Where was he? And why wasn’t he staying close? Eden hadn’t moved at all since she’d entered the club, so that meant that Darrak was wandering away from the car. But where? And why?
“I have to go,” she said. “But please call me.”
Vanessa tucked the card into her cleavage. “I’ll think about it.”
Eden turned and left the club without a backward glance. The feeling in her stomach had already lessened.
So that meant he was close again. But she couldn’t see him anywhere.
He wasn’t in her Toyota parked just to the left of the front doors.
“Darrak?” she called, looking to her right and left.
She wandered to the side of the building. The sound of the traffic on Dixon Road next to the club was loud. She turned the corner to the rest of the currently empty parking lot.
She wanted to tell him what happened with Vanessa. Eden was no expert on the subject, but she was convinced that the girl had nothing to do with anything other than being involved with the wrong man.
But was Richard simply a man who lived a double life? Or was there more to him than met the eye?
“Darrak!” she called again. “Where the hell are—?”
A hand came around her throat and she was dragged around the corner of the strip club. Before she could register what was going on, someone slammed her up against the brick wall, knocking the wind out of her.
FOURTEEN
Richard Morgan glared at Eden, his hand fisted in the front of the V-neck sweater she wore under her thin black wool coat.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “Why are you spying on me?”
Eden gasped for breath. “Spying on you? I was here for an interview.”
“To be a s
tripper?”
“I prefer the term exotic dancer. And, yeah. I’m Sugar LaCroix. Nice to meet you.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. I have my feathers and sequins in my trunk ready to go.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve been following me since I was at Starbucks this morning.”
“What? A girl can’t indulge in a morning caffeine infusion without being accused of spying?”
“Stop lying to me.”
She grabbed hold of his arm to try to push him away from her. “Let go of me right now.”
“Maybe after you tell me the truth.” He bashed her head against the wall, which made her feel like a woozy rag doll. “What the hell do you know about me?”
“Other than the fact you’re obviously a complete asshole, nothing at all.”
She looked into his eyes to see that the irises were as black as the pupils—unnaturally black as if he was wearing contacts. And there wasn’t the slightest bit of friendliness there. It took all her strength to hold him back from her at arm’s length.
He still managed to lean closer. “You don’t want to know anything about me. It would be hazardous to your health as well as your ability to sleep soundly at night. Got it?”
She tried to knee him but he twisted her around so she was facing the wall, bringing her arms up sharply and painfully behind her back.
“Will you leave me alone?”
“Yes,” she hissed, feeling like a fool to have allowed this cheating bastard to get the upper hand.
“I don’t believe you. You don’t sound very sincere.”
“I’m the definition of sincere right now.”
“I don’t think so. I think you like sticking your nose into other people’s business a bit too much. You need to be taught a lesson.”
She gasped as she felt the sharp tip of a knife trace down the side of her face and she flashed back to being at the serial killer’s mercy the day before yesterday. She didn’t like knives.
“Let go of me,” she snapped again, sounding much braver than she currently felt.
“You don’t need this nosy little nose of yours, do you? It might be a nice reminder for you to lose it.”
Who was this guy? Was he just making threats or was he really going to hurt her just for following him? She felt pathetically helpless at the moment. It didn’t feel good. She struggled against the tight hold he had on her.