Jaded (3 page)

“I want in. I hear the women in there are American versions of geishas.”

Jase grinned. “What do you know about the place?”

“I have an uncle who belongs, or used to. You need a pedigree and scratch to even apply.”

“Townsend strikes me as a mutt.”

“He is, but he’s got grit, and friends.”

Jase nodded. “What’s life without friends?”

Jase was going to find out just how good Townsend’s friends were.

After Vangie collected the bloodstain and a few fibers he’d isolated, Jase tried the back door to the building. As he expected, it was locked. There had been no traffic into or out of the lot in the hour he’d been there. Walking around to the front of the building, he tried the door. Locked. He pressed the discreet doorbell several times, the distant chime of the bell clear. It didn’t seem to go deep into the building. Probably didn’t want the dudes disturbed. When there was no response from the other side of the door, Jase headed back to his car.

His stomach growled. He had plenty to occupy his time while he grabbed a bite, and waited.

“M
ay I help you, sir?”

Jase flashed his badge under the nose of the Ichabod Crane lookalike who spoke with a British accent and had opened the innocuous front door to Callahan’s, and who also barred Jase from crossing the threshold.

The Brit eyed Jase’s badge with an uninterested glance. “Am I supposed to be impressed…” The Brit looked at Jase and cocked a plucked brow. “Sergeant Vaughn?”

Jase flipped the wallet closed and slipped it into the breast pocket of his Armani jacket. “You’re supposed to be a good doorman, and let me in.”

“I’m sorry, Sergeant, this is a private club and only members are permitted beyond this point.”

“I’m here on official business, I’d like to speak with—what does a private club have? A manager? Specifically, the one with the initials
JD.”

“I’m afraid without an appointment that isn’t possible.”

“I’m afraid, then, Ichabod old man, I’ll call a black-and-white to park out front of your
private
club until the manager calls the cops, at which time
I
will arrive.”

The man stood rigid, his long narrow nose twitching in distaste. “One moment,
sir.
”

Jase smirked as the door closed and he heard the lock turn from the inside. “Prick.”

Several minutes later, the stuffed shirt ushered Jase into a large, round, wood-paneled vestibule. Black-and-gold granite floors with heavy polished-brass pots overflowing with exotic greenery filled the room. Two matching brass-studded black leather settees sat flush against two of the walls. The scent of fine tobacco wafted in the air. Heavy crystal ashtrays sat on engraved rosewood end tables. Fine artwork adorned the walls. The smell of old money permeated the thick wooden walls.

Jase was impressed. He wasn’t a stranger to the finer things in life. With no family to provide for, he could retire tomorrow and live a very comfortable life. His few extravagances weren’t limited to fine clothing, wine, and a good cigar. He liked fine women. He’d dated more than his share of debutantes over the years, and while he had a penchant for what money could buy, he had no desire to settle down with any of them, even if it meant digging into Daddy’s millions.

Jase grinned. Nope, he wasn’t known as “Hit and Run” for nothing. He liked the ladies and he liked his freedom, and more than that, he liked the control he had over his life and emotions, with no desire to propagate. Scratch that, he lived for the act of propagation, just not the end result. He made sure years ago there would be no heat-of-the-moment mistakes running around with his DNA. He was clean and he was snipped, and if he ever had a daddy pang, he’d get a puppy.

The minutes ticked by. If Ichabod was jacking him around he wasn’t going to like the consequences. The first twenty-four hours were crucial to a case and his time was running out. Jase was just about to try the brass handle to the door Ichabod went through when it opened and the Brit appeared. “Miss Devereaux will be right out.”

Ah, so there is the
D
half of the infamous
JD.
A woman managing this place? Interesting. She must be a bruiser. One of those old washed-up women who’d seen the prettier side of life way back when, then when the looks and body took a dive resorted to the other side of the sheets. Management.

Jase nodded to the doorman, who closed the door and walked stiffly past him to the front door, where he stood like a wooden soldier.
What a shitty job.

Jase turned back to the soft click of the other door handle.

The creature that emerged struck him dumb. Literally. He could not have formed a coherent word and spoken at that instant even if the fate of the free world hung in the balance. His body instantaneously warmed and his stomach did a slow, hard roll, then another. Her sultry musky scent infiltrated his senses and attacked him like a lethal virus. His mouth went dry.

Holy Mother.

Big jade-colored eyes that slanted upward at the corners reminded him of a feral cat. A sleek, black feral cat. Boldly, she stared unwaveringly at him. Her cool indifference was unsettling. Straight hair so black it almost looked blue hung like a veil around her heart-shaped face. The delicate nostrils of her short aquiline nose flared, and her ruby red lips parted just enough to reveal brilliant white teeth.

Jase couldn’t help it. His eyes traveled from her ethereal face down that long slender neck to breasts so full and creamy they reminded him of caramel apples. He bet they were fake. They had to be. She wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples stiffened as he stared, and he knew for tits that perfect to sit up that firm and that high they had to have had some help.

She extended a slender hand, the nails perfectly manicured and real, not those fake red claw jobs the hookers favored.

“Sergeant Vaughn? Jade Devereaux, proprietress of Callahan’s. How may I help you?”

You can help me by relieving this boner.

Jase took her hand. The current of electricity that sparked between them startled him. The jolt went straight to his dick. His eyes narrowed, and hers widened. She tried to pull her hand from his. His fingers tightened. Her warmth surprised him. It shouldn’t have. He bet she was a tiger in bed.

His eyes raked her long lithe form, the silky black halter dress she wore doing nothing to quell his imagination. In that moment, as he envisioned her long legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust deep into her, and that red pouty mouth of hers open, panting, begging him to fuck her harder, he knew the vision would become a reality.

“I can think of several ways.”

She yanked her hand from his, her eyes cooling to stone. Retreating a step, she said, “State your business.”

Taking his time while enjoying the sight, Jase pulled his notepad from the breast pocket of his jacket. He flipped it open, ignored the throb in his dick, and wished he could ignore the woman standing no more than three feet from him. She was damn distracting.

“I’m here regarding Andrew Townsend. Was he here last night?”

“I’m afraid, Sergeant, I cannot divulge that type of information.”

“Why not?”

“The names of our members are not for publication.”

“So you’re saying he was a member?”

“I’m saying, if he were, we would not divulge the information. It’s privileged.”

“Answer me this, then: Do you personally know Andrew Townsend?”

“I choose not to answer your question.”

“Do you know he was murdered not far from here last night?”

Jade gasped. “How—?” Then she quickly collected herself. “I’m sorry for anyone’s death, Sergeant Vaughn.”

He watched her closely. Her nostrils flared and her left hand trembled. He noticed a Band-Aid on her left ring finger. “What happened?” he asked, pointing to her hand. She quickly covered it with her other hand before releasing it. She looked him straight in the eye. “I cut myself shaving.”

Jase grinned. “Honey, a girl like you doesn’t shave. I bet you’ve had every annoying strand of hair on that lovely body of yours plucked, waxed, or lasered.”

Jade stepped back. “Sergeant, I’m afraid if you would like any further information you’ll need a search warrant. Now, please excuse me.”

“One moment, Miss Devereaux.”

Jade turned those mesmerizing green eyes on him. Her long black lashes hovered over them like the wings of a raven. Her full lips pursed. Another day and another time and he’d pursue those lips until they were his. But business first.

“We can do this the easy way. You tell me: one, if Townsend was a member here; two, if he was here last night; and three, allow me to question everyone who had contact with him, or we can do this the hard way. I get a warrant and go public.”

He watched the play of her expressions. While to the average Joe she managed to appear disinterested, Jase was an expert at reading body language. And once he got past the lushness of her he could read her as easily as the Sunday paper. She knew Townsend, all right, and she was lying about her finger, and she was weighing the pros and cons of his proposal.

“One moment please,” she softly said before disappearing through the door from which she had entered. Jase glanced over to catch the wooden soldier eyeing him with what could only be described as contempt.

Jase shrugged it off. He’d been dissed by worse than that guy. The soft click of the door behind him sent a jolt of desire straight to his dick.
Damn.

He turned expecting Miss Devereaux, but instead a rather portly older gent in a fine gray suit opened the door wider. “Sergeant Vaughn, my name is Thomas Proctor, Miss Devereaux’s majordomo. She has instructed me to show you to her office.”

Jase nodded and followed the man. “Were you here last night, Mr. Proctor?” Jase asked to the retreating back. As if he hadn’t heard the question, Proctor didn’t respond. Jase knew better. “If you were, don’t go anywhere. When I’m done with Miss Devereaux, I want to talk to you about a member, Andrew Townsend.”

Jade sat rigidly behind her desk, the force of her strained muscles starting an ache at the base of her spine. Andrew was dead! And, god help her, she’d killed him! Swallowing hard, she flinched when the discerning detective spoke.

“I’d like to see the tape from the camera out back.”

“It was disconnected last month.”

“Why?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Did you see Andrew Townsend last night?”

A myriad of thoughts flashed through Jade’s mind. If she went to jail, what would happen to Tina? If she told the truth, that she was defending herself against a man who would have raped her, would it matter?

No, she decided, nothing would matter if the cops found out the truth about her. She shivered despite the warmth of her office. Andrew Townsend might be dead, but she felt justified in her defense of herself. She raised her chin, her gaze clashing with the handsome detective’s.

She smiled, her confidence restored. “Naïve” was a word she knew how to disrespect. Long ago she made the decision to never again be the whim of any man, and she wasn’t going to break her cardinal rule, not even for this righteous cop standing so arrogantly before her. Let him come at her. She had money, she had the connections, and she had the righteous belief that she’d acted in self-defense. But more than that, she believed in her innocence. This time.

“If I did, I’m not at liberty to say.”

Jase’s aquamarine-colored eyes squinted beneath long black lashes. Their intensity managed to keep Jade more off balance than aligned. He was, she decided, probably one of the most handsome men she had the good fortune, or in this case misfortune, to meet. The planes and angles of his face met in fluid symmetry, even the small scar on his chin just below his full bottom lip did nothing to mar his sensual visage. Quite the opposite. It gave him the rugged look of a man who didn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

She looked down to his hands. Big hands, with long thick fingers. Square fingernails and blunt fingertips. Hands she instantly knew could kill, and most likely had, but just as easily those hands could give pleasure. She trembled. Jade’s instincts screamed that this man was a predator in every sense of the word. And for the briefest of seconds, fear flirted with her confidence. Her instincts, finely tuned and never wrong, tagged him from the moment she laid eyes on him as dangerous on every level.

“Miss Devereaux, let me clarify why I’m here. A man was murdered. That’s against the law. It’s my job to find out who did it.”

“Don’t be condescending with me, Detective.”

“Don’t play hard to get with me. I don’t have the time or the patience.”

Jade smiled and stood. She hadn’t missed the way his eyes had raked her from head to toe when she’d walked into the vestibule. Or the way they’d kept returning to her chest and legs. While she might have no need for a man other than for monetary reasons, she knew the impact her physical assets had on the opposite sex. And she had no qualms in using them to get what she wanted. But what every man who had the misfortune to cross her path found out too late was that her greatest asset was her brain.

She warmed at the thought of playing cat and mouse with this man. If he sniffed too close to the truth, she may just have to pull out all the stops. Would he rise to the bait of her body?

Jade’s thoughts grinded to a halt. The last time she had willingly allowed a man to touch her, had actually wanted it, she had been used and lied to. Her cheeks flamed in remembered shame. Her heart broke that day into a million tiny pieces. Not once had she looked back or down to pick one of them up in any attempt to mend her heart.

It was a lesson learned young and well. Men wanted one thing from her, and if there was ever going to be another time, it would be on her terms and her terms only.

Jade watched the handsome detective from beneath lowered lashes. Her belly did a slow roll, the odd sensation one she’d long forgotten. It occurred to her at that moment that she wanted the man standing so close to her to reach out and touch her. She wanted…to feel again.

Jase stepped closer. The scent of the woman who stood so close was damn distracting. “Was he a member here?” he softly asked.

“How did he die?” She looked straight at him, her big green eyes open wide, unwavering. Call it gut instinct, but Jase knew at that very instant there were more layers to Jade Devereaux than a giant onion.

“Did he hurt you?”

Jade blinked and her cheeks drained of color.

“Townsend, did he hurt you?”

Jase caught the rush of relief in her eyes. Who did she think he meant?

“How did he die?” she asked again.

“I’ll ask the questions, Miss Devereaux.”

Jade blinked and her eyes refocused to hard.

“I think, Sergeant Vaughn, I’ve said enough. If you’ll excuse me.”

She turned to go, but Jase grabbed her arm. She whirled around, her speed and ferocity surprising him. Now her green eyes blazed like smelted emeralds. He put his hands up and backed up a step. No harm, no foul.