He and his team of architects had spent months and thousands of dollars on updating the design to include townhouses as well as stores and restaurants. The final decision would be made and delivered by courier in the morning. “Tell them I’ll be there in a few moments.”

  “Sir, you know how they are. They don’t like to wait.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m going to keep them waiting.” He shifted in his seat, slowly looking at his assistant. She was a demur blond, a young lady with a work ethic like no other. He admired her innocent looks, suspecting she was a tiger in bed. The thought gave him a smile. He refused to snack on the hired help, no matter his increasing needs. She was far too good at her job to be brought into his nefarious world.

  “They abhor tardiness. You know that, sir.”

  “Yes, as you continue to remind me.”

  “I’m sorry, I…”

  “No need to be sorry, Jennifer.” He clicked out of the file he was working on and rose to his feet. Walking to the window, he glanced out across the river. His thirtieth floor corner office in the James Center allowed him an amazing view of Richmond. He fingered the glass. Ruthless. The word had followed him for years. “You’re my assistant for a reason. You keep me on my toes.”

  A smile crossed her face. “I do try, sir. Do you need anything?”

  “Just a bit of good luck.”

  “Sir, you’re the best at what you do. Never forget that.”

  After waiting for another two minutes, Christopher adjusted his tied and eased into his suit jacket, fingering the cuffs of his crisp, white shirt. Today he would simply tell them the deal belonged to him, nothing more. Stephen Drummand and his firm would be left in the dust. He gave a split second of thought to his rival and smirked. Their volatile relationship was well known in the industry. Stephen was as ruthless and cunning as Christopher was. They also shared more than just their appetite for ruling the corporate world. “Is the presentation in the cue?”

  “Of course.” She trailed behind him as he walked out of his office. “Per your request, I have champagne on ice.”

  He laughed as he strode down the hall. The woman certainly had confidence. When he walked into the room, he purposely looked every man and woman in the eye, lingering for a few seconds. He closed the door and moved to the head of the table. He didn’t sit. He wasn’t going to go down to their level. They needed to realize the power they were dealing with. “Good morning. I think what I’m about to show you will consider this matter closed.” He nodded toward Jennifer. She promptly turned off the light, pitching them into darkness.

  The design of the conference room was his, completely devoid of windows. As he turned on the projector, adjusting the focus, he breathed in the various perfumes wafting throughout the room. This was his element, some said his kingdom and he was here to make certain everyone knew it.

  A vivid 3-D image of the project flashed onto the wide screen. He moved into the shadows but was able to study their pensive faces. The presentation continued and every man and woman in the room moved to the edge of their seats. He smiled. He had them.

  When the film concluded he remained silent. The collective sounds of awe were intoxicating. There was no need to say anything to Jennifer. She knew the drill well. The light was turned on and the expressions were priceless. They were stunned. “This concludes our presentation of the vision of the River City Aisles. I think you have all you need to make your decision.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Christopher noticed the look of satisfaction on Jennifer’s face. Of course he’d hit the mark. He inched toward the table, placing his hands on the smooth surface. “Thank you and I look forward to working with you.” Without issuing another word, he walked out of the room. This was his place of dominance without forethought.

  Before he made his way to his office, the entire firm was a buzz.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Well done.”

  The various partners greeted him as he walked down the hall. He nodded yet remained silent. There was no need to acknowledge in any other manner. Those working for him knew him well enough. They’d celebrate with expensive champagne as well as a catered lunch. He was that certain of the decision. No one could best him. He’d partake of something else entirely. His skin itched, longing for a moment alone with the perfect woman. Unfortunately, even the gorgeous submissive from the night before hadn’t satisfied his needs. His cock remained flaccid.

  He managed to close his door before the darkness settled in. Fisting his mouth, he walked toward his desk, stumbling for a few steps. He gripped the edge and exhaled, clearing his lungs. Now wasn’t the time to lose control, not when he had so much to live for.

  Tonight he had a pre-arranged dinner engagement he couldn’t miss. Tomorrow night he’d hunt once again. The thought calmed his nerves.

  Montana eased to the back of the elevator as Grant pressed the button. The second to the top floor. Mistress Jade was either doing very well or covering up the fact she was a Domme. Either way, he was hoping for answers. He thought about his days undercover. They’d been almost euphoric, but something he could never do again.

  “Do you think our dead girl really worked for the Mistress?” Grant asked as he shot his partner a look of discord.

  Of course Grant was right. His days of being undercover had left him hollow, jaded. “I don’t know if she will tell us one way or the other.”

  “But you said she asked for this appointment.”

  “She did, but my guess is that she’s on her own fishing expedition.” They remained silent as the elevator zipped to the floor. He remembered the last time he was in the impressive glass building. The top floor had once been an exclusive club and mostly men paid top dollar to be a part. He wondered what remained.

  They stepped out and glanced up and down the hallway. “You sure she said this floor?”

  “We’ll find her.” He sauntered down the hall to the double doors at the end. He couldn’t help but smile.

  “You have to be kidding me. Devereaux Employee Services?” Grant yanked out his phone, snapping two pictures of the embossed door.

  “My bet is the company is on the up and up.” Montana shook his head and studied the impressive looking reception area. The person behind the desk was surprisingly male. ”Nice touch,” he muttered as he walked inside.

  “May I help you?” The receptionist’s voice held no inflection, but his eyes showed clear disdain.

  “We have an appointment with Ms. Devereaux,” Grant stated. He placed his hand on the receptionist’s desk.

  “And you are?”

  Montana studied the young man. He was demur as if owned. The thought was interesting. “Detectives.”

  The receptionist looked into Montana’s eyes, his never blinking. “Of course. Wait here.” He rose to his feet and walked down an expansive hallway.

  “Interesting fella,” Grant mumbled.

  “Guarded. Just like she taught him.” He walked toward the bank of windows, passing through an impressive set of leather sofas. She’d spared no expense. He heard Grant pacing back and forth, restless as usual. After a full minute he checked his watch, surprised five minutes had past.

  “Detective Givens?”

  Her voice purred like velvet. Montana turned. The woman standing in front of him was very much a surprise. She was dressed in a tailored suit and stilettos, her hair tightly spun in a bun. Her jewelry and make-up was professional. “Ms. Devereaux, thank you for seeing us.”

  “Certainly. Please come into my office where we can talk.” She turned and walked quickly, obviously anticipating they’d follow.

  “Curt,” Grant whispered.

  Nodding, he looked from right to left as they walked down the hall. He noticed only one person sitting in a series of well adorned offices. The Mistress worked fascinating hours.

  She closed the door and walked around the other side of her desk. “I have exactly ten minutes. You asked about the name of one of my employees, the one I fear missing.” Jade shifted through files on her desk, producing one. She opened the file and gazed at the contents. Seconds later she closed the file.

  “Okay. Ten minutes. Yes, you mentioned you were worried. What was her name?” Montana inched closer, easing out his hand in an effort to keep Grant quiet. He’d seen a picture of a very pretty girl attached to what looked like an application.

  “Trixie.” She looked up at Montana.

  He could see a shadow in her eyes for a split second. “That was her submissive name?”

  “Yes,” she stated and never looked away.

  “What was her real name?” The only way he could tell she was nervous was the shift from one foot to the other. When she hesitated, he opened the notebook he was carrying, easing out a crime scene photo. “Is this Trixie?”

  Jade shifted her gaze downwards and offered no expression. “Yes.”

  He looked at Grant, who shrugged.

  “And her name?” Montana wanted her to make the connection. Now they had two.

  “You understand that her employment must be held in the strictest confidence,” she stated as if the girl was working for a law firm.

  “At this point we have no need to identify her outside source of income.” Montana could hear the wheels in Grant’s brain churning.

  “Very well, detective. She worked for me occasionally. Candace Williams.”

  “Doing what exactly?” Montana asked as he studied her reactions.

  She smiled and tipped her head. “You are well aware of the club, detective. Let’s not play games. Trixie, as she was known to the men who frequented my club, worked the room. Her assignment was to flirt, make the guests feel comfortable and to occasionally be a part of the room.”

  “The room?” Grant asked as he scanned her office. He had a condescending lilt in his voice.

  “Yes,” she stated without looking in his direction.

  Montana exhaled. “The playroom, where all BDSM things occur.”

  “Well, the majority of them. Perhaps you’d care to enjoy a night, detective. You could be my guest.” Her laugh was laced with a hint of desire.

  “Not my scene but thank you. So she had special dates.”

  She pulled a cigarette from a gold holder. “Cigarette, gentlemen?”

  “No thanks. Answer my question.” Montana was growing weary. She was hiding details.

  “Mmmm… Some of my girls do. We have special clients as I mentioned.”

  “Special clients. How interesting. What about the girls who work the club? Do they grab a guy and leave the premises as well?” Montana heard the ire in his voice.

  She remained silent until she’d lit the end and took a long drag. After blowing out the smoke, she cocked her hip. “Detective. I have at any given time two hundred men in my club. If you believe I can watch what every man does or who they talk to, you are sorely wrong. I allow my girls to enjoy the night and who they spend time with is simply of their own accord.”

  “I see.” Grant shook his head and took a step back. “No safety mechanisms at all.”

  Mistress Jade snapped her head in his direction. “As I mentioned on the phone, I vet every client with an intense screening, much like I do my girls. There is no one allowed into the club unless they pass with flying colors. Those recommended I take certain latitude with at my discretion. I take safety as a top priority, much like I do diplomacy and privacy. If special dates are arranged, they are through me and I have zero fear. Am I making myself clear?”

  Montana chuckled. “Absolutely.”

  “Good. Now are we finished?” she blew a puff of smoke in his direction.

  “Thank you, and almost Ms. Devereaux. What about the man Trixie went out with?”

  Her eyes flashed for a split second. “I apologize. I was wrong. Trixie hadn’t been on any exclusive dates recently.”

  Montana knew instinctively she was lying. “You’re certain?”

  “Yes, positive.” She gave him a warming smile.

  Right. And pigs fly. “You understand that we will need to have records of your clientele.”

  Jade narrowed her eyes and placed her hand on top of the desk. “I can’t do that.”

  “Yes, you can and you will,” Grant interjected. “We need to question anyone who has been there recently and I’m certain you keep spreadsheets of who values the club the most.”

  Montana wanted to give Grant a high-five. He could see the Mistress’ wheels turning.

  She remained expressionless and never looked at anyone else but Montana. “Then I suggest you obtain a court order.”

  “I will if I have to, but given you were extremely worried about one of your girls and came to me, I believe you want me to know.” Montana noticed the single twitch on her lower lip. He crowded her space. “In fact. I’ll expect the list on my desk.”

  “You’ll ruin my reputation, detective,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “We’ll be discrete,” Montana assured her. “We only want to solve the murders.”

  After a full minute she took a step back. “Very well, but the men came to my club to simply enjoy each other’s company and have a good time. Nothing more.”

  “Of course. Then they’ll have nothing to hide.” The line was drawn in the sand. They glared at each other. “Tell me about Mark Ramos.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. He was a member for a short period of time. He called me personally to ask if he could see a girl outside of the club. Of course, I suggested my other services and he was intrigued. However, he wasn’t authorized as of yet. He went behind my back, as did my submissive. Therefore, I have no information other than the girl has been fired for cause.”

  Montana almost burst into laughter. Perhaps the good Mistress was an HR expert.

  She eased into her seat and turned toward her computer.

  The dismiss was clear. He leaned over her desk. “You should be terrified. Whoever is doing this isn’t finished yet. If you know anything else, I suggest you come clean.”

  Jade took several puffs on her cigarette as she placed the file back into her desk.

  Grant took two steps closer. Montana gave him a sideways glance.

  “Thank you, Ms. Devereaux. Here’s my card. Again, if you know anything or suspect any foul play, it would certainly be in your best interest to give myself or my partner a call.” Montana pulled out a card, sliding it across her desk. He wasn’t surprised she ignored the offering. “I’ll be expecting the list by the end of the business day.” He motioned for Grant and walked out of her office, placing his finger over his mouth.

  Grant mumbled under his breath as they walked past the receptionist and out the double doors. “Okay, what the fuck was that?”

  “She knows something.” He noticed the receptionist immediately clamored away from his desk and toward Jade’s office.

  “Are you saying she’s terrified?”

  Montana strode toward the elevator and pressed the button. “No, I’m saying she knows who the killer is.”

  The vibrant energy of the city enveloped his entire being. He eased down the street toward his destination. Burning desire consumed his soul. He remained unnoticed as the crowd of revelers passed by. They were already drunk or high given the lateness of the night.

  The dark evening hid his features, even as he passed by the neon and flickering signs. Shockoe Bottom was alive with activity, but no one cared about the man moving past. He glanced at the star filled sky. While there was no moon, the flickering stars presented by a crystal clear sky were invigorating. He walked to the end of the block, turning down a side street.

  A single light over the entrance was the only indication the club existed. There was no name placard or any indication of the kink fest going on behind locked doors. He’d been inside only twice and both times had left him sated, something he desperately needed.

  After a single knock on the thick steel, he heard the sounds of approaching footsteps. The burly man who opened the door gave him a once over and held out his hand.

  Slipping a hundred dollar bill in the bouncer’s hand, he shifted and walked by him without uttering a word. Money could buy anything, especially anonymity. The hallway leading to the festivities was obscure, as if on purpose. He stopped just inside the main portion of the club, drinking in the atmosphere. Scantily clad men and women were lounging on the laps of those holding the reins, or in this case leashes secured to collars. The pecking order was clear.

  He was offered no more than a glance or two as he walked toward the bar. Observation was his strong suit. Tonight he would find the perfect slave. The woman would be dazzling but submissive, a girl looking to engage in a taste of the lifestyle.

  Chuckling, he slid next to the bar, ordering well-aged bourbon and remaining in the shadows. This was his job for the evening, a command performance. While he loathed being handled, tonight he was in his element and desperately hungry.

  He scanned the perimeter in search of the perfect specimen. She appeared within minutes. The lovely girl seemed unsure of her surroundings. While he couldn’t be certain, she appeared to be alone. She was certainly dressed the part, adorned in a tight leather skirt and crimson corset. She was voluptuous. Perhaps some would say she was fat. To him, she reeked of submissive need. She was a woman no one would miss.

  He licked the rim of his glass before taking a sip. She would no doubt do as he asked. Inhaling, the combination of sweat, perfume and cigar smoke was a powerful aphrodisiac. He’d certainly come to the right place, at least on this night. Complications he didn’t need.

  She flitted through the crowd, but her actions were stilted. Fear was evident by her shallow breathing and beads of perspiration covering the top of her lip. After several minutes of attempting to engage any man in the crowd, she shrunk into the shadows. She lowered her head as she walked closer to the bar. No one wanted to play.

  His keen hearing was able to detect her groans and whimpers of self-admonishment. He swirled his glass and waited. There was no reason for him to be in a hurry. After all, he had all night. She would come to him.