“Where exactly are we headed dressed like this, Savannah?” The pants she has me in are practically painted on while Luna is in a minidress with some killer heels. Maddox is going to remove men’s eyeballs if he catches sight of what she’s wearing. I’m curious to see how Cullen would react to seeing me in this getup. The outfit makes me feel sexy. I’m not opposed to dressing like this. I just never had a reason to before now. My life has been all Luna and work until recently.
“I’m not saying a peep until we get there. I don’t want either of you slipping and telling your men where we’re going.” I don’t know if it’s the drinks or just the atmosphere but I burst out laughing. I’m guessing that Savannah forgot that Cullen is a detective and Maddox can get anything he wants with a snap of his fingers. He isn’t only loaded, but he has his hands in everything in this city. There isn’t an ear he wouldn’t have if he wanted it. There aren’t many resources that are unavailable to them. I am counting down the minutes until they show up and end our night.
“You do realize your brother is a detective, right?”
Savannah shrugs, not seeming fazed by that.
“Then let the games begin.” She winks. My stomach flutters thinking about Cullen tracking me down. I probably shouldn’t enjoy this but I know I’m going to.
“You’re the detective. Start detecting!”
“Damn, Madd, dial it back. You think I’m happy about this? I thought you put a tracker on her.”
“It was on her phone and she’s never without it.”
I send a speaking glance toward the pink leather-wrapped mobile device clutched in his left hand. The girls are in the wind. A half hour after Savannah left in some giant limo with them, the GPS signal that Maddox was tracking stopped moving. He called me in a panic and I drove over to find that Luna had darted in and left her phone with the maitre d’ at MJ’s restaurant.
We left immediately to go to my loft in Hell’s Kitchen, where I have a few unsanctioned pieces of equipment hooked up, including a computer I had a tech informant set up when we were tailing Mom’s new driver, who we thought might be trying to kidnap her for ransom. The driver kept taking Mom to a weird place in Brooklyn, but thanks to a little surveillance we learned that Mom was actually having boudoir photos taken for Dad. Weird, but okay. I couldn’t look at them for a week, but I guess whatever keeps their romance going isn’t a bad thing.
“I can’t believe you aren’t arresting the owner of the car service for not allowing us to track the limo,” Madd gripes.
“First, your sister owns the car service.” I found that out on the first phone call when a pert young woman told me that per company policy, no private information could be released without a warrant. “Second, we don’t have a warrant because there’s no crime unless we report our own sister for kidnapping.”
There’s a beat of silence as Maddox actually contemplates this. I send him a scowl. “Third, we can’t arrest people we can’t find.”
“That little shit is keeping stuff from us.”
“Yeah, she is.” I type in a few more coordinates and take a look at the traffic cams but there are so many long limos in the city, particularly this time of night. Savannah is smart to own her own car service—one that caters to ferrying women around the city safely. Normally, I’d applaud both her policy and the hiring of staff who stick to the rules, but I want to find MJ as bad as Maddox wants to find Luna.
I drum my fingers against the desk. Where would Savannah take them that she doesn’t want us to know about? They were dressed like they were going to a garden party, but it’s getting late. I should’ve known that they wouldn’t be having a picnic at night.
“They’ve got to be at a club,” I say.
“Which one? There are hundreds in the city.”
My fingers fly over the keyboard. “Only a few that Sav would feel safe in, though.” She knows a lot of people, particularly party promoters. “What’s that one woman she runs around with that owns the restaurant up on 67th Street?”
“How would I know? I don’t pay attention to that shit.”
“Okay, how about who is the owner of the building at 67th and Concord?”
“Paisley Brown. Her daddy owns a steel company that’s about to go under and he’s pressing her to get a mortgage on the building. I’ve made an offer to buy her out, but she’s not interested,” Maddox says immediately.
“Why don’t you call her then?”
Maddox brightens. “Good idea.” He flips the pink phone in his hand and presses a contact, who answers immediately. “Grant. Can you connect me to Paisley Brown? It’s an emergency.”