Page 36 of Girl Anonymous

“Youcan hardly pry information? What about your contacts?” She gestured toward the firmly shut door. “Like Jack?”

“The days of the Arundels being able to bully and bribe have come to an end. I ended them.” He put emphasis on the last sentence.

“You’re wealthy and influential. I have trouble believing you can’t tap into some source for information on your own mother’s violent death!” She examined him, the way he stood, his still expression, and understanding dawned. “Ohhh. You don’t want to, or dare to, share that information. Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s never good to say too much.” He sounded so noncommittal.

“The less I know, the better.”

“There is that, too.” He put his hands on the wall behind her head, leaned closer, and in a low vibrant whisper said, “I promise, I’ll tell you everything as soon as it’s safe. There’s so much at stake here. The Arundels are going to be completely legitimate and there will be cooperation—or bodies. Nothing in-between.”

She stared into his eyes, chilled by the bleak intent she saw there. “But what if—?”

“Nothing in-between,” he repeated.

Someone yanked the door open.

Nate said, “You need permission to go in there!”

Saint Rees paid no attention. A man in his late forties, her boss was broad-shouldered, round-bellied, and tall, a former professional African American football player, and he tossed off Nate’s body block and marched into the room.

Dante slid his hand into his jacket.

Maarja gripped his arm. “No!”

Saint Rees ignored Dante. Chin lowered, fists clenched, he looked at Maarja. Just looked at her in sorrow and in warning.

She slipped off the seat. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

His deep voice came out of the depths of his belly. “The van didn’t arrive at the rendezvous point.”

CHAPTER 15

“The van? With Mrs. Arundel’s art?” Maarja’s mind clicked away from Dante, the office, the hovering lure of security, and snapped into her guard mode. Ignoring Nate’s menacing advance, she jumped off the chair and hurried to Saint Rees. “You’ve heard nothing from Alex? From Serene?”

With her peripheral vision, she saw Dante wave Nate to a halt.

“No communication, but the van has been found along 303 Bartlett Springs Road.” Saint Rees took her hands. “Blood everywhere, no Alex, no Serene, no art—”

“Whose blood?” Maarja’s voice rose. “Is it Alex’s?”

Saint Rees nodded. “Alex’s.”

“What about Serene?”

“None of her blood.”

“Unlikely,” Maarja said crisply.

Serene. Maarja had worked with her for over a year and still didn’t know her at all. Beneath that meditative facade, there could be depths of ruthlessness and cruelty. Yes. She could take a commission to steal the finest art and hurt the finest person, plan and execute it flawlessly, and never flinch.

“It looks as if she was waiting for just such a circumstance as this tragedy.” For the first time, Saint Rees acknowledged Dante with a nod. “Mr. Arundel, my teams are scouring thearea. We’ve got copters in the air, men on the ground. Experts and trackers. The art will be found.” His eyes, big and richly lashed, shifted to Maarja. “Alex is our first priority.”

Maarja’s gaze clung to his. “Alex…” Her sister of the heart. They’d spent so many hours of their lives together, being dysfunctional teens (were there any other kind?) and brave adults as they ventured into the world and left their torn pasts behind. Then logic took over from emotion. “Serene could be that kind of opportunist, I agree, but it’s more likely she’s been hired by the bastards who killed Mrs. Arundel. The coincidence is too unlikely.” She turned to Dante, expecting agreement and concern.

Instead he stood, arms loose, fingers flexed, his face blank, cool, unreadable.

Yet she could read it; the lover who talked of a fateful union had vanished, leaving Dante Arundel of the vengeful and aristocratic Arundels. His lips barely moved as he spoke. “The unbelievable coincidence is thatyou, Maarja, packedla Bouteille de Flammeand now it has been stolen.”

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