Matt turned a desperate look on Val. “Surely you can handle it if it means going back to Seattle in the morning—and of course you’ll still be getting paid.”
“I don’t like it,” Ethan grumbled.
“Beau Desmond and his men have been over the residence with a microscope. No one’s getting in or out unless they’ve been invited. Val, what do you say? Can you do this one last thing?”
She blew out a breath. “If it means going home, I can make it.”
“Megan?”
Dirk was probably in there grinding his teeth, but he was smart enough to stay out of it. These weren’t the kind of women who did whatever you told them. By now, Ethan and Dirk had both figured that out.
“If Val’s going,” Meg said, “so am I.”
He could almost hear Dirk groan.
“What about Isabel?” Ethan asked.
“She’s off the hook. The guy’s sitting in jail. He’s hardly a threat. But one of Beau’s guys will be camped outside her suite just in case. She’ll be okay.”
“I still don’t like it,” Ethan said.
“I respect that. It’s your job to keep these women safe. In fact, as far as La Belle’s concerned, once we get back to Seattle, you’ll still be on the payroll.”
He didn’t argue. He wouldn’t stop working the case no matter what La Belle said, but it was always nice to get paid for the job he was doing.
“I need to get going if I’m going to look presentable tonight,” Meg said, rising from her chair. “It’s black tie, as I recall.”
“That’s right. You own a tux, Brodie?”
He nodded. “Goes with the job.”
“You’ve got the address, I presume,” Carlyle said.
“I’ve got the damn address. I’ll round up Dirk and we’ll take the women over in a private limo. Like I said, they’ve had enough for one day.”
“You’ve got two hours. Don’t be late.” Carlyle stopped at the door and tipped his head toward the bedroom. “Oh, and tell Reynolds he needs to be a little more discreet. Gallagher’s seen him with Megan so many times he’s starting to think they’re joined at the hip. I’ve got enough trouble without having to fire the two of you.”
With that, Matt was gone.
Dirk ambled out smiling. “Come on, honey, I’ll walk you to your room.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “You heard what Matt just said. He knows what we’ve been doing. We need to be more discreet.” She jerked open the door. “Besides, we don’t have time for what you’re thinking.”
Dirk winked at Val, then flashed an unrepentant grin at Meg. “I guess we’ll just have to see.” They were still arguing as the door closed behind them.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The white stretch limo rolled up the long curving drive and came to rest in front of Peter Latham’s mansion in Tuxedo Park, one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Atlanta.
Carmen Marquez and Caralee Peterson rode in the back with Val and Meg, while Dirk sat up front with the chauffeur. Ethan lounged on the seat in the rear with the women. Val figured having her friends along was at least a nod toward discretion.
A pair of white-jacketed valets hurried to open the limo doors. Ethan and Dirk climbed out first to assess their surroundings, then Val, Meg, Carmen, and Caralee stepped out with the help of the valets.
Towering like a Renaissance castle behind a sea of colorful, perfectly tended flowers lit by spotlights and surrounded by vast manicured lawns, the mansion was unlike anything Val had ever seen.
Patterned after an Italian villa, the sprawling two-story home had turrets and chimneys and tall arched windows with balconies out front. The exterior was the soft gold of a Tuscan sunset, and dozens of lights inside glowed through the windows.
Val couldn’t resist a glance at Ethan, who walked behind her as she and the other women headed up the curving path to the massive carved front doors. The man looked amazing in a T-shirt and jeans. In a perfectly tailored tuxedo with gleaming black satin lapels and a crisp white shirt with rows of tiny tucks down the front, he was magnificent.
