The Fire Within (9 page)

Dante sighed. He just knew his brothers were going to give him shit over this. “Elizabeth Rand.”

“Abby’s Elizabeth Rand? The P.I.?”

Dante nodded.

Seth frowned, obviously confused. “But you hate P.I.s.”

Dante shrugged. What could he say? He wasn’t exactly fond of the breed, but Elizabeth was different. “She knows what we are, and she’s nothing like the cheating asshole who ran off with my wife.”

“Do you trust her?” That from Damien, who probably didn’t trust his own mother, but had given that unwavering loyalty instead to the Nephilim.

Dante nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

And as soon as he saw her again he’d be telling her about the Shem stink all over their crime scene. Now that he’d accidentally revealed his true nature, the conversation would be much simpler. Hopefully she’d realize she was in over her head and allow him to take the lead.

“We need to get her under guard, then. Let me know when you need me.”

Dante smiled. He should have known Seth would be the first one to volunteer. “Get your wing fixed first, then we’ll talk.”

“I’ll talk to Gabriel. We need to combine the hunt for the Angelus with your murder investigation.” Damien got them moving once more, his expression fierce. “It’s possible your perp is working with ours. We can’t let them get their hands on Beth.”

The very thought had Dante smoking, literally. “No. No, we cannot.”

* * *

“I’ve got something! Give me a call!” The excited sound of Sam’s voice woke Beth out of a sound sleep. She looked at the clock and saw that it was six o’clock in the morning, a full hour before she intended to get up. She rolled over with a groan, her muscles protesting, her arm throbbing viciously. Still half asleep, she rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to find out why her arm hurt so badly.

“Aw, fuck. I’m gonna kill me a sleaze.”

In the mirror she could see a purple bruise on her upper arm, right where that drunken ass had grabbed her. Sighing, she brushed her teeth and hair. It wasn’t the first time a man had left a bruise on her, and it wouldn’t be the last. She just preferred to be the one to hand them their balls afterward.

Dante had taken care of that the night before. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

She made a quick cup of coffee, grateful once again that she’d gotten that K-Cup coffee maker, then reran the voice message Sam had left. She must have found something pretty good to sound like that, but Beth had no clue what she could have discovered in a day.

Sam was good, but Beth wasn’t sure even she was
that
good.

Beth grabbed a bagel out of the fridge and bit into it cold, chasing it with a shot of coffee. She pushed her glasses into place then reached for the phone. She cradled the receiver against her shoulder and took another sip. God, she hoped it kicked in soon. Dealing with Sam while decaffeinated was never fun.

“Hello?”

“It’s Beth. Fair warning, I’m decaffeinated.”

Sam giggled. “Did I wake you up?”

Beth grunted and took another bite of bagel. “What have you got?”

“You’ll never guess what I discovered.” The buzz of energy in Sam’s voice made Beth’s head spin.

“Proof of Bigfoot?” Beth took another quick sip of coffee and tried to pay attention. She wouldn’t put it past her flaky friend to be a UFO hunter.

“Jennifer Blake socked away seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars of campaign funds into a bank account in the Cayman Islands over a period of a couple of weeks.”

Beth choked on a bite of bagel. “
What?
”

“She also purchased a house there and a car—a cute little Jeep in candy apple red.”

Beth slowly set her coffee cup on the countertop. “Jennifer Blake was robbing Blessing’s campaign fund? Are you positive?” Beth was now wide awake. Someone had been a very bad girl.
Moving somewhere warmer indeed.

“Sure looks like it. Oh, and most of that money she stole? It came from Romanov Enterprises. Some kind of a private donation. Very hush-hush. Not sure exactly what Romanov’s connection to all this is, but I’ll do a little more digging. Maybe he thought it would be nice to have the governor of the state in his pocket.”

“Huh. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s going to be pissed if he finds out the money he poured into the Blessing campaign was stolen.” Piotr seemed to be all about power and influence. Having a governor in his pocket would only give him more of that.

On the other hand, he was one of Seth’s best friends, and Andi adored him. Maybe something else was going on, something deeper she couldn’t see yet.

“Well, that’s not the only weird part. Three days ago, the money was taken out of the Cayman account. I’m still trying to track where it went.”

Beth frowned. “Did anyone else have signing privileges on the account?”

“Not that I can find so far, but I’ll keep digging.”

Beth leaned against the counter and studied her socked feet. Something about this wasn’t right. “Do you have any idea how the money was moved?”

“Oh, it was definitely some kind of an electronic transfer. It’s just that whoever did it managed to cover his or her tracks very well.” Sam’s tone had shifted, becoming absent. She was more than likely already working on how to solve the problem. “It might take me another day or two to figure out exactly where it went, and if they kept the funds hopping it might take even longer.”

“Let me know what you find out. Whoever stole that money might have been her partner.”

“Will do. I’m going to look into Blessing as well. Anything else you need from me?”

“Dig up what you can on Romanov’s connection to the campaign. I’d be curious to see if he’s anything more than a campaign contributor or if something else is going on.”

“Got it. TTFN!”

Beth ended the call and strode back to her bedroom, her thoughts whirling. If Piotr Romanov was involved in this somehow, things were going to get very sticky.

She threw on a hot pink T-shirt and dark blue jeans, slipped her feet into her black boots, and strode back out into the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she dialed Dante’s number.

He was not going to like this, not one little bit. She could already tell Dante hated complications, and throwing Piotr Romanov into the mix was one hell of a problem. The billionaire could make the detective’s life a living hell with one phone call.

“Hello?”

Beth bit back a groan. Damn, the man sounded sexy as hell first thing in the morning. His deep voice was rough with sleep, sending shivers down her spine. “It’s Beth.”

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”

It sounded like he’d gone from half asleep to wide awake in seconds. “Calm yourself, big guy. I’ve got some information on the Blake case.”

There was the sound of rustling and a deep sigh. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up before she could respond. Beth shrugged and made herself another cup of coffee. He’d get here soon enough.

Until then, she had just enough time to wake the hell up. She’d need all her wits about her to keep Sam safe. If Dante figured out she’d used somewhat illegal means to discover Piotr’s involvement in the Blake murder, he’d have a fit of epic proportions.

Maybe she’d better have a third cup of coffee, just to be safe.

Chapter Seven

Dante picked Elizabeth up at her apartment and took her to his favorite diner. He needed a caffeine infusion, and he needed it now. Hunting that Shem the night before then waking at six in the morning had him scowling and mean as a bear.

“Wow, you’re certainly a cheap date.” She laughed as she slid into the booth across from him. She didn’t bother to take off her jacket.

He grunted. “Food. Coffee. Not in that order.”

“All right, Dante. Let’s get you fed, then I’ll fill you in. All right?” She picked up her menu and began to meticulously study its contents.

Dante sighed. “I was out working my other job last night.”

She didn’t even flinch. The menu remained steady in her hands. “Any luck?”

“He got away.”

That got her to lower the menu. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

The Shem’s parting shot rang in his ears once more.
Your woman won’t survive the week.
He bit back a growl, aware she was safe and sound, at least for the moment.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was safe, but only when she was with him. Perhaps he should take her to Gabriel’s. If any place on the planet was safe from Shemyaza, it would be the home of the archangel who’d hunted them for centuries.

The sound of the waitress clearing her throat brought him out of his daze. He looked up, and hid a wince. Shit. Of all the times to see an ex-girlfriend, it had to be now.

“Hi, Dante,” Tessa said with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you too.” Dante wondered what fresh hell was coming his way. From the wicked expression on Elizabeth’s face, it was going to be a doozy.

“What can I get for you?” Dante watched her gaze dart between him and Elizabeth. Her smile lost some of its strength.

They both ordered the biggest breakfast on the menu.

Tessa smiled again, the expression hopeful, her gaze warm. “Want to get together one night this week? I’m free Thursday?”

Shit. Dante had to let her down gently. Tessa was a nice girl and didn’t deserve to be snarled at. In fact, she’d been too nice, too sweet. He needed someone who could meet him head on. He had truly liked Tessa, and her presence had soothed him after his divorce, but the relationship was going to go nowhere. He’d thought she’d understood that, but apparently not. “I’m sorry, but I’m no longer available.”

“Oh.” The disappointment on her face would have been flattering if Elizabeth wasn’t watching them both with avid curiosity. The waitress pinned on a bright, somewhat sad smile. “Well, I hope you’re both very happy together.”

“Thank you.” Dante didn’t say another word as Tessa walked away to turn in their order.

Elizabeth pushed some of her dark hair behind one ear. He found himself watching her, waiting for her reaction.

It wasn’t long in coming. “You’re taken, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, staring at her with all the heat he’d felt as he’d watched her on that dance floor the night before. “Yup.”

Her cheeks burned brightly before she put the menu back up, blocking his view. Neither of them said another word until the food arrived.

“You dance very well.” He had to smother a grin when she choked on her bacon. “If you ever want to go with me, let me know.”

The challenge in her gaze was intoxicating. “If I decide to go dancing with you, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”

“You are on,
tesoro
. We’ll go tonight.”

She raised one dark brow mockingly. “Sure your poor old heart can stand it?”

His answering smile was slow. He was aware of exactly how predatory he looked as she sat back, her gaze narrowed. “Do you want to try me?”

She sighed roughly and drank some of her coffee. “What are we going to do about this?”

“This?”

“This—” she waved her hand toward him, then back at herself, “—conflict of interest.”

He leaned forward. “You’re going to tell me whatever it was you learned that woke you up this morning. You and I will go interview Bryan Cranston. I called the office, and he’s in today. Afterward, we do dinner and dancing.”

“And then?”

He picked up his mug, stroking the curve of the handle with one finger. “Then we see what comes up next.”

She looked away, her lips twitching. “You are a bad man.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She blew out her breath and finished her bacon. “Fine. Want to know what my informant told me or not?”

Apparently she was going to ignore his flirting. That was all right. They needed to work, and she hadn’t said no. For Elizabeth, it was damn near a proposal of marriage. He could work with that. “Informant?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “You could call her that. She’s someone who has done work for me before. I asked her to look into Jennifer Blake’s financials.”

“What did she find?”

“Embezzlement.”

Dante blinked. “How the hell does
that
fit in?”

“With what?” She sounded nearly as confused as he felt.

He looked around the room, noting all the humans sitting within hearing distance. “I’ll explain in the car.” He pointed toward her plate. He had his own information to pass on, and a warning. “Finish up. We have work to do,
tesoro
.”

“Do I want to know what that means?”

He winked at her. “Ask me over dinner.”

They concentrated on their food after that, eager to get out of the restaurant and share their information in the privacy of his car. He paid the bill, barely remembering to wave good-bye to Tessa.

They got into Dante’s car and began the drive to Blessing campaign headquarters. “So. What did your informant tell you?”

“Jennifer Blake took seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars that Piotr Romanov had donated to the Blessing campaign and put it in a Cayman Island account.”

“Shit.” Dante hated feeling that one of his Neph brothers was going to turn on them, but Piotr kept giving him reasons to doubt his loyalty. This was just the latest in a long string of seemingly insignificant things that tied the man to the Shemyaza, such as sharing a last name with their leader, Ivan Romanov.

“She then used that money to purchase a house there and a Jeep in candy apple red.”

“Is that all she was able to find out?”

“So far. She’s still collecting data for me.” Elizabeth shrugged. “She’s only been on this since yesterday.”

“Not bad. How did she find the account?” Dante was certain he knew who the
she
was. Sam was good, almost as good as Damien.

“I’m not sure, but I can guarantee it wasn’t illegal.”

“I didn’t say it was.” Sam might be on the quirky side, but he doubted she’d ever cross the line.

“Good.”

Dante pulled up outside the campaign headquarters. The Shem stench was all over the building. It was even worse than it had been the last time they were here.

It was inside somewhere, or had been very recently. Dante scowled as Elizabeth got out of the car. “Wait.”

“What?” She tapped her foot impatiently.

There wasn’t enough time to fill her in on what was really going on, damn it. He should have taken care of it over breakfast, but he’d been too damn busy getting her to agree to go out with him. If he wasn’t careful he was going to get her killed. He waved her closer, pulling the lapels of her jacket up. He spoke softly, barely moving his lips. “There’s a Shem inside, or was.”

“A what?”

Her confused expression was adorable. “Another Diana.”

She froze, her face going bone white. “Shit, fuck, damn.” She ran her fingers through her hair and glared at the front door. “Are the civilians in there in danger?”

“I’m not sure. Even if they are, the Shem won’t feed around witnesses.”

She bit her lip. “Jennifer Blake?”

“Snowstorm, no one on the streets. I’m betting he saw his chance to kill two politicians with one claw.”

She took a deep breath and stepped out of his hold. “How do I kill it?”

“You don’t.” He waited until she looked back at him and allowed the fire within him to fill his eyes. “I do.”

* * *

They stepped into the campaign office, Beth on high alert. If another one of those monsters was inside she wanted to be prepared. She felt naked. Her gun was at her apartment rather than at her side, and she planned on picking it up before they went much further that day.

Right now, if a...Shem?...confronted them, the only thing she’d be able to do would be make frowny faces at it. She doubted her tae kwon do would be of much assistance against a person with claws and fangs.

The inside of the office felt like a furnace after the bitter cold outside. Beth shrugged out of the too-hot jacket and slung it over her arm.

A sudden intake of breath alerted her. Dante was staring at the bruise the asshole had left behind, his expression curiously blank. “He bruised you?”

His voice was lethal.

Uh-oh. Dante had been ready to rip that guy’s arms off just for touching her. She had to head this off at the pass before he hunted that guy down and turned him into barbecue. “Forget it, Dante. The guy isn’t worth losing your badge.”

His low growl disagreed with her.

Beth patted him on the head. “Good boy.
Good
boy, protecting your mistress. I’ll give you a doggy treat later. Now let’s go talk to Cranston and find that fucking Shem.”

“Mistress, huh?”

At least the lethality was gone, but the heat in his voice wasn’t much better. She had to keep her mind on their work or they could both wind up dead. “Yup. Now pay attention or I won’t skritch your belly later.”

She realized about two seconds later what she’d said as his hand landed on her lower back. “That’s a date.” He led the way toward the back of the offices, toward where Oates and Cranston worked, his hand warm and possessive.

Dante’s cell rang. “Hold up a second.” He answered, his voice once more professional as his hand left her back. “Detective Zucco.”

From his grimace this could take two seconds or two hours. She pointed toward the doorway leading to the offices, and started to walk in that direction before he could order her to stay behind.

Dante reached for her. “Elizabeth—”

“I’ve got this one. Take your call.” He scowled down at her. “Really.” She leaned in, whispering so she wouldn’t be heard by anyone but him “You said it won’t feed in front of so many people. You’re right here, and I’ll try and stay in sight.”

She was
so
getting her gun later.

He glared at her, his attention once more on his phone call but his gaze glued to her. “Yeah, I hear you, Jarvis. No, asshole, you don’t...”

A man waved to her, his hair thin but well groomed, his wire-frame glasses sliding down his nose. His smile was nervous but warm, his hands thin and moving rapidly as he waved her toward him.

Elizabeth headed into the room and the smiling man waiting for her. “Bryan Cranston?”

“Yes, Miss...?”

“Elizabeth Rand. I’m a private investigator working with the New Castle P.D. to solve the murder of Jennifer Blake.”

“Oh my, yes, Mrs. Blake. I’ve met her a few times, of course, but she mostly spoke to Mr. Oates when she visited this side of the building.” Bryan Cranston nervously pushed his glasses up his nose. His slight, wiry frame seemed incapable of sitting still. The brown sweater and khaki pants that he wore hung oddly on his frame, as if they were a size too big.

“Did she ever speak to you?”

“She came to me once or twice for files. She had the necessary authorization, so I saw no reason not to give them to her. Of course, I had to make sure that she returned them. We couldn’t have them floating around out there for just anyone to read, you know.” Beth watched the way Cranston’s slender hands and muddy brown eyes darted hither and yon. For some reason, Cranston was nervous about talking to her. He seemed incapable of holding a conversation without twitching or fiddling with his glasses. “The loss of the files Mrs. Blake had on her has caused us untold problems,” the nervous man continued. “We have to go back to each one of the contributors and back track all of the expenses. It’s an incredible amount of work.”

Beth had seen the never ending stream of coffee Oates and his secretary had been consuming in order to stay on top of the situation. Cranston, on the other hand, appeared to be drinking herbal tea. She wasn’t surprised. Actually, she was quite grateful. The thought of Bryan Cranston hyped up on caffeine scared her more than the thought of her date with Dante tonight.

“Have any of the files been recovered yet? Can we retrieve them from the police?” Cranston wrung his hands, his expression hopeful.

“I doubt it, Mr. Cranston. They’re evidence. You’ll have to wait until they’ve been processed, along with the rest of it.” She was having a hard time keeping her gaze off Cranston’s constantly moving hands.

Cranston’s sigh was heartfelt. “Oh, dear.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ll be a month straightening this mess out.”

“Mr. Cranston?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember hearing rumors about an affair Mrs. Blake was having?”

“An affair? Mrs. Blake? Are you sure?” For the first time since meeting him, Cranston’s hands were still.

“As sure as we can be. Several people noticed Mrs. Blake in an embrace with a man who wasn’t her husband.” She watched him intently, noting the shock on his face. Apparently he was the only office worker who hadn’t suspected an affair.

“No, I’m afraid not. That’s...very disappointing to hear.” He sounded sincerely upset by the news. “Mrs. Blake always spoke so fondly of her husband and little girl, so it’s hard to believe that she’d betray them that way.” Cranston’s hands began to weave in and out of themselves again. “Although it seems to me if she was having an affair with anyone, Kensington would be the most likely suspect. He always gets whatever woman he wants.”

“Bryan, did you do the work on the Talbot file I requested?” Sylvester Oates loomed behind Cranston. The signs of fatigue were obvious in his face, the dark circles under his eyes standing out dramatically against his pale skin.

Cranston jumped nervously. “It’s right here, Mr. Oates.” He dug frantically in his pile of files, half of them winding up on the floor before he located the one he wanted. He handed the file to Oates, who grunted in thanks. “Ms. Rand.”