Chapter Four
While it seemed logical to assume that Monday nights at theAfter Nine Paranormal Social Clubwould be slow with the members recovering from weekend frivolity, proprietress Amanda Clauneot – Mandy to her friends – had long since accepted that that was just another misconception among the more straight-laced members of society in general.
The truth, she thought to herself as she settled in to observe the first of three open scenes scheduled for the night, is just the opposite.
Weekends were slow as members used them for socially sanctioned entertainment – movies, church, and vanilla romantic encounters to name a few – and, when the sunset on Sunday, they looked forward to releasing their pent-up tensions on Monday nights.
Mondays were, in actuality, the busiest night of her week.
"Mistress?" A whispered voice came through the heavy velvet theater curtains that separated her private box from the rest of the seating in the opulently outfitted theater. "We need yououtfront."
“Of course.” Mandy rose to her feet and stepped through the curtain as one of the performers on stage bent over to receive the first paddle stroke of the scene.
“What’s the problem, Jake?” Mandy’s long legs ate up the distance to the front door.
“Cops.” Jake huffed, trying to keep up with her. “Homicide.”
“Homicide?” Mandy stopped in her tracks. “Who died?”
“Don’t know.” Jake shrugged. “They want to talk to the boss.”
“I see.” Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Mandy pasted a smile on her face and resumed her trek through the hall. She hesitated when she could see two men standing in the center of the round entry, staring into the club with undisguised interest, studying them through the delicate filigree of the hand-carvedivory screen that separated the foyer from the guest parlor.
Positioned slightly in front, the first man shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, his leather-soled dress shoes sliding easily on the highly polished marble floor. His dark brown hair was shorn close to his head, and his green eyes glinted in the soft light. Under his boxy brown suit, the bright white of his dress shirt stood out against the dark skin visible at the notch of his throat.
The second man was a few years younger than the first, if Mandy was any expert in deducing such things. He had light olive-colored skin, and unique pale gray eyes ringed in bright blue that she could see even from a distance. His longish chestnut hair was carefully mussed and seemed at odds with the close-cropped beard and neatly trimmed mustache. Where the first man's clothing all but screamed undercover cop, the younger man sported fitted jeans and a plain t-shirt underneath a leather jacket that hung open to his waist.
They were, Mandy had to admit, both extremely attractive. Which in no way quieted the alarm bells sounding in her head.
Stepping around the screen, Mandy cleared her throat to get their attention. “Gentlemen, please come with me.”
~*~
Lamar was still staring around the interior of the club, taking in the marble columns supporting the ornate loft and admiring the way the massive chandelier’s soft light was reflected through the space by the highly polished mirrored ceiling tiles when a crisp female voice snapped him back to the present.
The quick inhalation from behind him told Lamar that Genov definitely liked what he saw.
Taking his time to evaluate her, Lamar had to admit that there was nothing not to like.
The woman before him was taller than many, nearly reaching his own six-foot-six-inch height in her lipstick-red heels. Her matching sheath gown clung to every inch, highlighting her curves deliciously. Light sparkled off crystals interwoven with the long golden tresses that were swept up and pulled back from the crown of her head, leaving the softly glistening skin of her shoulders bare.
Raising a brow in silent amusement as the men stared at her, she turned to glide back the way she had come, gesturing over her shoulder for them to follow.
Clearing his head with a small shake, Lamar nudged Genov with his shoulder and began to follow her, nearly running to match her long strides.
When he was finally at her hip, Lamar cleared his throat. “Ma’am?”
“One moment, please. We’ll be in my private quarters shortly.”
Glancing at Genov, Lamar shrugged. The woman was obviously used to having her orders followed, so he fell in behind her. When in Rome and all that.
At the end of the long hallway, Mandy sailed through a heavy wooden door. Turning sharply, she addressed the man at the door.
“Cliff. No disturbances.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The door swung closed.
