Thirty minutes later, she'd made her way to a parking lot in Hell's Kitchen where the delivery driver was waiting in his car for his next pickup. She parked a few spots down and then texted him.

  He got out of his car, a young twenty-something Indian male wearing a sweatshirt with an NYU logo and baggy jeans. His hair was long, and a somewhat scraggly beard covered his cheeks.

  She walked over to him, giving him a nod. "Omar Radishka?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm Agent Reid. Can you tell me what you saw last night in the building on the corner of Eighth and Monroe?"

  "I had just delivered food next door, and I saw a guy go into 3C. He was tall, like professional basketball player tall. He had black hair and was dressed all in black. He looked creepy."

  "Did he knock on the door?"

  "Yeah. And someone answered. The man went inside. I heard someone ask what the hell he was doing there. But I didn't hear the reply. I was halfway down the stairs when I thought I heard someone yell. I waited for a second, but I didn't hear anything else, so I left the building." Omar paused. "I heard the dude inside got killed. I can't believe I saw who did it. Do you think I'm in danger? He saw me, too. My dad said I shouldn't have said anything to the police, but when I was delivering lunch to the building next door today, a cop stopped me and asked me if I'd been working last night."

  "You did the right thing. I don't believe you're in danger. But I would take a few extra precautions. If you can avoid delivering to that block, I would do that. If you can take a few days off or stay with a friend, that might be helpful as well. Just be alert and don't talk to anyone else about this. Don't tell your friends, your family, no one. We'll keep your name out of our reports as well."

  "Okay. Will you let me know when you catch him?"

  "I will." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Did you hear a name by chance? Did the person inside greet the man?"

  Omar thought for a minute. "I think he called him Cal. But I'm not positive."

  "That's helpful. Anything else you remember? Was he wearing clothes with an insignia of any kind?"

  Omar slowly shook his head. "I don't think so. I didn't want to stare at him too closely."

  "Thank you." She handed him her card. "If you think of anything else, or if you have any problems, call me."

  Omar got back into his car and pulled out with a squeal of his tires.

  She got into her vehicle and punched in Tyler's number. He picked up almost immediately, and she updated him on what she'd learned from Omar. "The name Cal is unique," she added. "If we can find a Cal working with the Novik brothers or Elias Costa, we might be able to connect Jonas Cray with one of them."

  "I'll dig into that," Tyler said. "I contacted Ashford to set up a meeting to discuss his ties to Sergei Novik. His assistant told me Ashford is not in today and will return my call tomorrow."

  "That's disappointing."

  "Why don't you see if you can reach Malone?" Tyler suggested. "He has access to Ashford that we don't. And he seems open to working with you. I'd call him, but I don't think I'd get the same response."

  She didn't think so either. "All right. Email me with what you know about Dominic's ties to Novik, and I'll contact Max." As Tyler ended the call, she put in Max's number, happy when he picked up. "I need to talk to you. Can we meet?"

  He hesitated. "I'm going to be tied up for the next few hours. What do you need?"

  "I want to talk about Dominic's relationship with Sergei Novik. I learned today that they have been rivals in business."

  "Dominic mentioned that to me as well," Max said. "But he said they've also collaborated on projects, that their relationship is friendly."

  "Maybe not as friendly as he thinks. I really think we should compare notes. When will you be free?" Silence followed her question. "Max, are you there?"

  "I have to go to a dinner party that Dominic is hosting at Ceylon tonight."

  "That's an expensive restaurant. I thought you only handled security overseas."

  "He just wants me there to observe. In fact, he asked me to bring a date to look more like a friend than a security consultant."

  "Why?"

  "Because he's rattled by everything that's happened. He's not the only one wondering if Samantha's attack is connected to him."

  "Who else will be at the party?"

  "City officials, potential investors for his various projects, some of his executive team. I think there will be about twenty-five people there."

  "So, who are you taking? Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?"

  "No. I was supposed to take a coworker, but she really doesn't want to go."

  "You should take me," she said impulsively.

  "I don't think Dominic wants me to show up with an FBI agent."

  "The only person who would know I'm FBI is Dominic. If he's agreeable, I could just be your date. I could also be another pair of eyes if he feels the need for more security."

  "I don't know."

  "Why don't you run it by him? Tell him I want to protect him as well as Samantha, that I'm concerned about him being a target."

  "I thought you were more concerned about him being tied to the bomber."

  "Well, I wouldn't tell him that," she said dryly.

  Another hesitation followed her words, then Max said, "Do you have a fancy dress?"

  "I think I have one in my closet that will work."

  "I have to be there at six thirty."

  She glanced at her watch. It was almost five o'clock. "I can make that."

  "Text me your address. I'll pick you up."

  "I can meet you there."

  "You'll look more like my date if we arrive together."

  "Fine," she said, rattling off her address. "Do you want to check with Dominic first?"

  "I'll run it by him, but I can convince him," Max said, with nothing but confidence in his voice. "I'll see you soon."

  As she hung up the phone, she couldn't believe she'd just suggested a date to Dominic's posh dinner party with a former CIA guy she didn't trust at all. But this was a great opportunity to get a better look into Dominic's life, and she was going to take it.

  He was out of his mind, Max thought, as Agent Kara Reid answered the door to her brownstone apartment building wearing a form-fitting champagne-colored dress that hugged her cleavage and her hips and showed off a pair of beautiful legs. Her brown hair was no longer pulled up in a ponytail but flowing down her shoulders in a silky brown cascade of waves that framed her beautiful face.

  He'd known as soon as the words left his mouth that inviting her to come along was the worst idea he'd had in a while. Dominic's response had been just as negative, but he'd convinced him that having the FBI on his side could only be a good thing. So here he was, his heart pounding a little faster than it should.

  "Hi," she said as she pulled the door closed behind her and came down the steps.

  "You look…amazing," he murmured.

  She flushed a little at his words. "I had to wear this dress for a friend's wedding."

  "It looks good."

  "You look good, too." Her gaze moved across his face to the black suit and tie he'd put on for the occasion. Then, as if realizing she'd been staring too long, she cleared her throat and put on the coat she'd been carrying.

  He was sorry to see her cover up the beautiful gold dress, but maybe it was a good thing. He needed to remind himself that this wasn't an actual date. He led her to his car and opened the door for her before moving around to slide behind the wheel.

  As she fastened her seatbelt, she said, "Did you tell Dominic you were bringing me?"

  "I did."

  "And he was…"

  "Fine with it." He gave her a quick smile. "That might be a bit of an understatement."

  "I'm not planning to cause problems."

  "And yet I'm expecting at some point we'll run into one," he said.

  "I guess that depends on how the party goes. Can you tell me anything about the guest list?"

  "Caroline Rowe, Vice-President of Business Development; Sebastian Hanover, Executive Vice-President of Operations; and Hamid Azani, Vice-President of Global Operations, will represent the executive team, along with Dominic, of course. From the city side, I believe Supervisor Randall Hollingsworth will attend, and then there are about a dozen investors from various companies and some of Dominic's wealthy friend group."

  "That sounds impressive."

  "It's probably going to be boring as hell."

  She laughed. "Not your scene?"

  "Not at all. But the food and the alcohol should be good."

  "I'm sure. What did Dominic tell you about Sergei Novik?"

  "What you said earlier—that they've been rivals, that they've been part of investor groups, and that he doesn't believe Novik has a problem with him. Dominic also mentioned that he hasn't gotten to the top without making some enemies. He probably has as long a list of potential enemies as Samantha Barkley does."

  "Great," she murmured. "I love a long list."

  He smiled. "You mentioned you talked to a potential witness this afternoon?"

  "Yes. Someone who delivered food to the apartment next to Jonas's. On his way out, he said he saw a tall guy with jet-black hair wearing all black clothing. He thought he heard someone say Cal and what the hell… But that was it."

  "Well, that knife attack was quick and silent," he said.

  "My team is looking into whether they can find anyone named Cal tied to the gym or the strip club. But you should run it by Dominic as well."

  "I will, but we're not talking about the case tonight, remember? This is observation time."

  "I already agreed," she said.

  "You did, but I don't know if I can trust you," he said, flinging her a sharp look. "I know how much you want to solve this case."

  "I do, but I'm also an excellent investigator. And I know when to watch and when to talk."

  He liked her confidence, her intelligence, and also how damn pretty she was. It was a deadly combination, and he needed to be more concerned about keeping his own focus than worrying about Kara keeping hers.

  Chapter Eight

  The valet took Max's keys as they stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Ceylon. The restaurant occupied the ground floor of a historic building; its facade was dark-red brick with iron-detailed accents. Warm light spilled through tall, diamond-paned windows. A discreet brass plaque beside the entrance was the only sign that this was one of the city's most exclusive dining establishments.

  Max's hand found the small of her back as they approached the entrance, and Kara felt the warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of her coat. She told herself the flutter in her stomach was just nerves about the investigation, nothing to do with how good he looked in that perfectly tailored suit or the way his green eyes had darkened when he'd seen her in this dress.

  Stop it, she thought firmly. This is work. He's a potential witness. Possibly even a suspect if Dominic is involved.

  But damn, he wore that suit well.

  The maître d' greeted them. "Welcome. Mr. Ashford's party is upstairs in the private dining room. Isla will take you there."

  An attractive blonde led them up a thickly carpeted staircase to the second floor. The private dining room was everything she'd expected: high ceilings with ornate molding, chandeliers that probably cost more than her annual salary, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street below. About fifteen people were already there, champagne flutes in hand, engaged in polite conversation that came naturally to people who regularly attended twenty-five-thousand-dollar-a-plate fundraisers. Not that this was a formal fundraiser, but it certainly had to be about money.

  Dominic spotted them immediately and crossed the room, his expression carefully neutral. He looked every inch the billionaire host in a navy suit, his blond hair perfectly styled, his smile practiced and somewhat cool.

  "Max," he said, shaking his hand. Then his gaze moved to Kara, and she saw the brief flicker of wariness before he masked it. "Kara. Max mentioned you might join us."

  "Thank you for including me." She extended her hand, and his grip was firm, assessing.

  "Of course. Let's get you both some champagne." He waved a server over, who offered them champagne, and then moved toward a trio of men who had just arrived.

  She sipped her champagne as her gaze scanned the room of rich and beautiful people. "So, who's who?" she murmured to Max.

  Before he could answer, a striking blonde woman in an emerald cocktail dress made her way toward them with a purposeful stride that suggested she wasn't about to be ignored. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with sharp cheekbones and even sharper eyes.

  "Hello, Max," she said with a British accent. "I didn't realize you'd be joining us tonight."

  "Dominic invited me," he replied smoothly, his hand finding Kara's waist. "Caroline Rowe, this is Kara Reid. Caroline is Dominic's Vice President of Business Development."

  "It's nice to meet you," she said.

  "You too," Caroline replied, although she didn't seem interested at all as her gaze turned to Max. "Is there any positive…news?"

  "No," he said.

  "That's unfortunate." She paused as her gaze moved to a new couple entering the room. "Excuse me."

  Kara thought Caroline might go to greet the new arrivals, but she went over to Dominic and whispered in his ear, then pulled him away from his group. Her hand lingered on his arm in a way that felt possessive, territorial.

  "Caroline is in love with Dominic," she murmured.

  Max gave her a surprised look. "I don't think so."

  "I do. When she asked for news, I assumed she was speaking about Samantha."

  "Yes, and she's also aware that Dominic asked me to look into the bombing."

  "Have you ever seen her interact with Samantha? I wonder what the vibe is between them?"

  "I couldn't tell you," he said. "Dominic has never mentioned any romantic involvement with Caroline, but she seems to be very close to him, very loyal. She's always concerned about his security, but I'm sure many people are after what happened six months ago."

  "What happened then?" she asked.

  "It was overseas in Dushanbe. Dominic's security team was ambushed. He wasn't hurt, but two of his bodyguards were killed. That's why he hired me. He was afraid that someone might have leaked his security plans or his itinerary."

  "That's interesting," she mused. "But how private was that itinerary? I found one for his next trip in Samantha's apartment."

  "He gave her the itinerary. I was there when he did," Max replied.

  A loud voice interrupted their conversation.

  "Dominic," a man repeated as he moved through the crowd, his face red with what appeared to be anger. He appeared to be in his forties with pepper-gray hair and a stocky build. Two men in suits were following him, as well as an older man, who appeared to be in his seventies or eighties.

  "Richard," Dominic said, his tone neutral, as he moved forward. He turned to the older man. "Joseph. I didn't realize your son was coming."

  Regret ran across Joseph's face. "I couldn't stop him."

  "I've been trying to get you on the phone for three weeks, Dominic," Richard said, his voice carrying across the room. "Why are you dodging my calls? Why did you hand our contract to someone else?"

  "Richard Greco," Max whispered in Kara's ear. "And his father, Joseph Greco. They run Greco Electrical. They've acted as subcontractors on many jobs."

  "I haven't handed anything to anyone," Dominic said, his pleasant tone edged with steel. "We're still finalizing contracts for Tajikistan."

  "Finalizing?" Richard's laugh was harsh. "Bullshit. You're going with Ridley Aames. Twenty years of loyalty, and this is how you repay it?"

  "Richard, please." Joseph Greco's voice was calm and diplomatic. Clearly, he was used to smoothing his son's rough edges. "Dominic, I apologize. I wanted to bring this up with you at a different time."

  "But you don't make time for us," Richard interrupted. "Your assistant said you're completely booked for weeks."

  "Let's talk tomorrow," Dominic said. "I'll have my assistant call you in the morning."

  "Or we could do it now," Richard said. "Why wait?"

  "Tomorrow will be fine," Joseph interrupted. "We're leaving now."

  Richard spluttered protests, but his father and the security detail escorted them out of the room.

  Dominic exchanged some private words with a tall, lean man with dark hair and dark eyes as the conversations in the room resumed.

  "Sounds like Richard Greco has a beef with Dominic," she commented as she sipped her champagne. "Who's Dominic talking to now?"

  "Sebastian Hanover, Executive Vice President of Operations and longtime friend. And Greco was definitely not happy about losing a big contract."

  "After that scene, I'd be surprised if his company gets another one in the future."

  "They won't," he said with certainty. "I suspect Richard's father, Joseph, knows that."

  "Well, we can put the Greco's on Dominic's enemy list."

  "As I said before, that list will be long."

  She didn't doubt that, but she could also see a lot of fawning smiles in this room. "He seems to be surrounded by love here."

  "Looks more like attention to me, and he does love that." As Max finished speaking, a Middle Eastern man in his fifties approached. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard.

  "Max," the man said, a surprised gleam in his eyes. "Didn't take you for the party type."

  "Dominic's request. Good to see you, Hamid. This is Kara Reid."

  "He turned to Kara with warmth in his eyes. "Hamid Azani. I'm VP of Global Operations for Ashford Industries."

  "Nice to meet you."

  "The pleasure is mine." Hamid turned back to Max, his expression shifting to something more serious. "I was going to text you earlier about setting up a meeting to discuss next month's trip. I have concerns."

  "About what?" Max asked.

  "I think we're being too cautious. Too hidden." Hamid gestured with his champagne glass. "The whole point of going there is to show the local community and investors that we're committed, that we're not afraid. If we skulk around in armored vehicles and avoid public spaces, what message does that send?"