Mine Until Dawn (7 page)

Silence.

Vince frowned. Lights off, the door unlocked, yet the place appeared deserted. Something wasn’t right. He studied the room, superimposing it with the way it was earlier. Paintings and carvings were displayed in niches all around the room. Of course, the cacophony noises, a blend of muted classical tune, pedestrian clamor and construction sounds from outside, were gone. Cohen’s office, separate from the showroom, but visible through a glass window, was in total darkness. The silence was eerie and oppressive, yet nothing seemed out of place.

Vince frowned at the desk and a chair to their right. It was unoccupied during his earlier visit. “Does Cohen have an assistant?”

“Yes,” Jade answered, sounding distracted. “A middle-aged woman. Can’t remember her name.” She walked toward the office. “Mr. Cohen?”

“Remember, don’t touch anything. Not the doors, walls…nothing.” Once again, he covered his hand before he open the office door and flick the light switch. Neon lights flared up. The room was a mess. Piles of papers, pens and Starbucks coffee cups were littered all over the desk and on the floor. Cabinets were half-closed, papers spilling out. An old surveillance system was visible from a cupboard with broken doors. The computer on the workstation was gone. Right at the table leg, by the trashcan, was his bag. It looked as though they’d tried to stuff it in the trash bin and it fell out.

“What did I tell you? The old man is in on it,” he said.

“What have you seen?” Jade gripped his jacket in the back and attempted to peer around him. He gave her room by lifting his arm. She stuck her head into the office and gasped. “Cohen is very meticulous. He would never leave his office like this.”

Vince stepped inside the room, squatted and studied the bag without touching it. He reached for a pencil on the floor and lifted the bag’s flap up.

“It’s empty,” Jade said in dismay, taking the bag from him. In the next instant, she stepped away from him and started pushing papers and coffee cups around while using the bag to cover her hand.

“Whoa. Slow down.” She raced to the other side of the desk and yanked open a drawer before he could stop her. “What are you looking for?”

“My purse.” She tugged at another drawer. “Can’t believe Cohen is working with those hoodlums.” Her voice was shaking.

He hoped she wasn’t about to cry. He was inept with weeping women. She shifted sideways as he reached for her arm, evaded his hand and wrenched open the next drawer. “Jade. Stop.”

“Why? Someone already beat us to the place. What’s…one…more…messy…”

Vince grabbed her arm, wrapped his arms about her and pulled off the bag from her hand. “It’s not here.” She twisted her body but he tightened his grip. “Damn it, Jade. Your purse is not here.”

“You don’t know that.” She glared at him, her eyes blazing. Not a single tear in sight. “Do you?” She wiggled and he let her go. She stepped back and marched to the door.

“Where are you going?” Vince raced after her.

“I’m checking the other rooms.”

“Don’t. Stay by me.” When she scowled at him, he added, “Please.”

She didn’t touch anything after that. Just watched him with her arms crossed as he searched the bathroom and two storage rooms. He was vigilant, careful not to leave hand or finger prints. There was nothing, just more chaos. The back door to an alley was unlocked. Huge garbage bins and a couple of cars occupied most of the space. If whoever was in the store used the backdoor, he or she was long gone.

“Maybe Cohen left in a hurry and couldn’t close up,” Vince said.

“I don’t think so. Granted he keeps his expensive and rare pieces in a safe, some of the antiques in there,” she indicated the showroom, “are worth thousands of dollars. Besides, that is his.” She pointed at a navy blue Malibu parked by a recycle bin.

Vince closed the door, using the sleeve of his jacket again. He had a bad feeling about this. This was supposed to be about a missing heirloom, but he had an inkling there was more going on. A whole lot more. “Where’s his safe?”

Her arms still wrapped around her body, Jade gave him an indifferent shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe in his office. Maybe in his home.”

Vince removed his jacket and dropped it over her shoulders. He had to get her out of here. Whether Hudson and his partner worked for Cohen or not, this was a crime scene. “Come on.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” She dragged her feet as they walked back to the front of the store.

Until he got permission from his aunt, he couldn’t tell the police about the missing statue. Maybe it was time she explained why the authority weren’t notified. He couldn’t accomplish much without knowing all the facts.

“Sure,” Vince said, drawing out the word. “Once we decide on what story to tell them.”

Jade threw him a disgusted look, tightened her hands around his jacket and marched to the entrance. Vince stared after her. This was why he preferred to work solo. No one to explain his actions to or piss off. She already thought he had something criminal to hide. This was sure to cinch it.

He would love nothing better than to explain everything about this investigation to Jade now that she was involved. Better yet, he would love for the FBI agents or LAPD officers to take over the case, so he could go home. He had a book to finish and his uncle needed him.

Vince stepped back into Cohen’s office just as his cell phone started to ring. He plucked it from his waist, saw the number, and brought it to his ear. “Aunt Della. What’s going on?”

“Calling to find out if you’re coming to my place for dinner, baby. Where are you?”

“I’m following a few leads.” He crouched low to study the surveillance system. The screen was blank and no tapes around or in the machine. Someone was serious about leaving no evidence. Vince sniffed the dark liquid on the machine. Coffee. “I can’t promise to make it, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

“You have to eat, Vince. I’ve made pot roast, your favorite.”

He heard the loneliness in her voice. His aunt never had children of her own, but doted on those in her special ed. classes. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for having not spent much time with her since he arrived in L.A.

“Keep a plate warmed for me. I might be late coming in though,” he added.

“That’s no problem at all. You can fill me in on what you’ve learned.”

“Sure, Aunt Della.” Maybe she would tell him what was up with her request not to involve the police. He got up, looked around Cohen’s office one last time and backtracked to the showroom. Satisfied, he exited the store and headed toward his car. “I’ll see you later.”

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” she added quickly.

When she didn’t speak right away, Vince braced himself as though expecting a blow.
 
“What is it?”

“The hospital called.”

The pressure in his chest increased. His father. Vince couldn’t bring himself to join Jade and have her hear his side of the conversation. He stopped a few feet from the car and gave her his back.

“What’s happened?” he asked into the phone.

“Your father regained consciousness earlier this evening.”

It was funny how evil people always seemed to cheat death. The pressure in his chest eased although he couldn’t explain why. His father never cared about him or wanted to know him. What did his aunt expect him to say? That he was happy? “I see.”

“It was only for a few seconds, but the doctor said that was a good sign. Have you, uh, stopped by to see him?”

And do what? Had the judge asked for him? He couldn’t ask his aunt those questions. It would be rude. Not that he had anything to say to his old man. He already said his piece sixteen years ago when Vincent needed a father and the judge told him there was no room in his life for a child. Vince swallowed as his chest constricted. The pain caught him unawares again, the longing to overcome their differences followed. He was an idiot. He didn’t understand why thoughts about his father often reduced him to the seventeen year-old he once was.

“I’ve been too busy, Aunt Della. I need to find the figurine so I can go home.” Home to his uncle who needed him much more than his father would ever do, a man who wasn’t a blood relative yet loved him like one.

His aunt’s sigh reached his ear, loud and clear. “Go talk to him, sweetie. Let everything out and move on. As long as you continue to hate him—”

“I don’t hate him.” His jaw tightened as more things from the past zipped in his head. “I don’t know him well enough to hate him.”

“He’s your father, Vince. You two need to lay the past to rest. Make the anger and the pain to go away. Once he regains consciousness and learns that you found the statue—”

“I’m not doing this for
him,
” he interrupted her, his voice terse. “I’m helping because
you
asked me to, Aunt Della.” His aunt stayed in touch with his mother after she moved to Orcas Island and with him after she died. For his aunt, he’d do just about anything. As for his father, he couldn’t care less if he saw or spoke with him. Vince ground his teeth, berating himself silently. Before he came to L.A., he had his emotions under control. He knew to never leave himself vulnerable again. Never trust anyone. What the hell was happening to him?

“Well, that maybe be true, sweetheart,” his aunt said, “but—- this family needs to heal.”

“I can’t discuss this now, Aunt Della.” He walked to the car and slid in the driver’s seat. “I’ve got to go.”

“Let’s talk tonight then, okay? Bye.”

He closed his cell phone and replaced it in its folder. There was nothing he and his aunt needed to discuss, not when it involved his old man. The phone started to ring, again. This time, it was for Jade. He passed her the phone and waited.

He heard snatches of her conversation. “Are you sure? Can you recommend some other company? Yes…a competitor.” She snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I understand. Thanks for trying.” She closed his cell phone with a snap and pressed it against her forehead.

“What was that about?”

For a moment, she ignored him, just chewed on her lower lip. Then she threw him a speculative glance, scowled and offered him his phone. “Uh, nothing. Thanks for letting me use your phone.”

His gaze stayed on her after he took the phone, but he didn’t speak. Her shoulders drooped, her lips crunched in a pout and furrows settled between her eyebrows. Anger directed at him, he could handle. The defeated air about her bothered him. He couldn’t even explain why. It just did.

“Stop it,” she grumbled.

“Stop what?”

“Staring at me. It’s rude. Could you drive me to my cousin’s?”

“What’s going on?”

A ripple of hysterical laugh escaped her. “You don’t want to know.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. If you must know, that was the owner of Studs Inc. They couldn’t find a dancer for my cousin’s party. The men who danced at such short notice were unavailable.” She shook her head. “Tonight of all nights, they were unavailable. Lucky me. And of course, the woman couldn’t supply me with a competitor’s number. So, in a nutshell, I must shop for a dancer or face my cousin’s wrath.” She shot him a hopeful look.

Vince’s gut tightened. He should have known by now that when he opened his mouth without weighing the consequences, he always got bit in the ass. No way was he offering to strip at her cousin’s party. He started the car, asked for directions to her cousin’s and eased the car off the curb.

They drove in silence until he pulled up outside the address she’d given him. Jade now wore a hopeless look. “Why don’t you just call your cousin and explain?”

She was already shaking her head before he finished speaking. “You don’t understand. I, uh, I’ve disappointed them once too often before and….” She sighed. “It was important to
me
that I came through on this.” She glanced at him, “Could you…uh-hmm, of course not. Never mind.”

 
His chest eased with relief, yet he watched her and waited. He wanted her to ask him just so she would be indebted to him. Not that being beholden to him had anything to do with his amorous intentions. Since their meeting a few days ago, explicit fantasies starring the charming professor kept him awake at night. In the mood he was in, which was crappy to say the least, a marathon of sex from evening until dawn was the only solution. It would exorcise the ache knotting his gut.

When her tongue slipped out to wet her lower lip, Vince followed it, wishing he could trap it in his mouth.

“Could I what?” He made sure his tone wasn’t too eager.

Jade was quiet for so long, he was sure she wouldn’t answer him. “I know you said before to ask you instead of assuming, so I’ll just do it. Could you help me out with this? Dance at the party, that is.”

Perfect.
He pretended to consider it, then nodded. “I could be persuaded.”

Her eyes widened as she shifted to face him. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

Yeah, he would. If he got something out of it, it should even out the scores. Trading a favor for sex wasn’t something he’d tried, but he hadn’t gotten laid in months. Besides, he couldn’t focus on his investigation while panting after her like a hyperventilating pup.