They Called Her Bones
Chapter One
by Brandy
Copyright ©2009
Flynn scanned the crowd with a predatory eye, his gaze making a complete circle of the room and coming to rest on a dark haired woman sipping a drink at the table closest to the bar. By past experience, he knew those tables were usually reserved for important people, like the owner or his friends. She was wearing a black, spaghetti-strap cocktail dress that clung lovingly to her curvaceous figure and reached mid-thigh. Black stiletto heels completed the dress and set off her shapely legs to perfection.
Classy was the description that came to mind.
He felt a tightening in his loins and he frowned, his dark brows slashing downward in disapproval. He didn’t have time for bar floozies, which was probably what she was. Most likely, she belonged to the owner of the club, but could be had anyway, if the price was right. In spite of the way he felt, curiosity bade him to see her face. He moved with panther-like grace through the throng of people, angling for the bar and a better view.
Disgusted with himself, he almost veered off, but as if she knew he was coming, she turned to look straight at him and he couldn’t look away. He found himself a prisoner of eyes so blue they looked hand painted. They were startlingly bright, like the brilliance of sapphires, their gaze questioning as if he had spoken to her and she was responding. His gaze raced on down her pert nose and narrowed at lush lips the color of elderberry wine, just begging to be kissed. The milky rich color of her complexion was flawless from her smooth forehead to the curving swells of her well-rounded breasts, barely peeking above the black silk. She was artistically perfect!
“Name your poison, Mac.” The bartender’s clichéd request forced him to tear his gaze from hers and he turned to face the bar, staunchly telling himself to get a grip.
“Seven and Seven,” he replied, keeping himself from turning around. He could feel her gaze on his back; he didn’t have to see her to know she was studying him. He had never felt so powerfully aware of a woman before and he wondered if she felt it, too. He suspected she did, and that could be a problem. He wasn’t looking for a woman; he was here on business. He didn’t have time in his life for women, anyway, and he liked it that way.
Although he had been in St. George for several years now, coming home to Reno was always a treat, even if it was business. Lately, he’d been thinking about returning and setting up his own art gallery instead of running one for someone else. He’d have to talk his parents into moving back, but he figured he could. They were retired and had moved up there to be near him, but he was feeling the pull of his birthplace. Besides, he needed to get shed of Katherine; she was fighting him tooth and nail for every dime she could get out of him. Sometimes, he wondered if there was a woman alive that wasn’t filled with avarice. If so, he certainly hadn’t met one!
Forcing himself to stay focused, Flynn knocked back his drink and left the bar, all without turning around. He could feel her eyes burning holes in his back as he made his way to the exit. Unable to resist the relentless pull of attraction, he finally succumbed and looked back. She was still studying him, obviously not embarrassed in the slightest to be caught doing so.
“Who’s the girl at the back table?” he asked the guard at the door without taking his eyes off her. So much for resisting!
Felipe, the evening bouncer, followed the man’s gaze back to the lovely girl. “They call her Bones,” he replied, a knowing smile curving his lips. “She owns this casino.”
Slightly startled, Flynn nodded and stepped into the night feeling like a vise was gripping his gut. It was unusual for a woman to own a casino. He adjusted the crotch of his pants without thinking, flushing slightly as a passing hooker smiled indulgently at him. When had hookers invaded Moana Lane? Or maybe they had always been there; he just hadn’t been old enough to know what they were before he went into the Air Force.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Get it together, man! She’s just another woman. Can’t trust any of them and you have better things to do.” It was one thing to say it, but it was another thing entirely to put those eyes out of his mind. They floated there, along with the creaminess of milky skin against jet black hair, pushing everything else out of their way.
“Bones,” he mused. “What an odd name for a woman. Wonder how she got that?” He was still wondering fifteen minutes later when he pulled up in front of the police station and parked his beat up Ford pickup truck in an empty slot. He was telling himself it didn’t matter how she got that name, he had no intention of going to the Lonely Angel again. Come to think of it, that was an odd name for a casino as well.
He was still thinking about those oddities when he finally sat down in front of Captain Ian McNamara, Chief of Police in Reno and an old friend. “All right, Ian, I’m here now – what’s up?”
Captain McNamara grunted and sat back in his office chair, his tall, powerful frame obviously tense. The wheels rolled slightly with the rhythm of his body as he drummed a pencil against the gleaming wooden surface of the oak desk. “It’s about time, lad,” he growled. “Why didn’t you just bloody fly? You’d have gotten here a hell of a lot sooner! It’s a wonder your car didn’t die somewhere in the bloody desert, as hot as it is!”
Flynn grinned. “What’s got you in an uproar?”
“We just had another robbery,” he snapped. “He struck again! It happened about two hours ago, around seven thirty this evening. If you’d flown in from St. George this morning instead of driving to Salt Lake and down through the salt flats, you could have been here for the initial crime scene investigation.”
“I had an errand in Salt lake City.” Flynn leaned forward, his mind finally cleared of painted blue eyes. “It sounds like you think the same person pulled off both robberies.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Instinct – gut instinct tells me it’s the same person that stole the Monet a few months ago.”
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. Ian’s gut instinct was almost as good as fact. “So, what’s your theory?”
The pencil snapped in two between the powerful fingers. “I don’t have one,” he confessed. “All I know is that two paintings have disappeared in the last month, both from wealthy homes around the area. Whoever stole the paintings must be a professional because they haven’t left a print or anything to go on.” He leaned forward. “That’s where you come in, as you know. You’re the professional in forensics and art. I want you to figure it out and get Delacroix off my back!”
“Delacroix?”
“Leonard Delacroix is the one who lost the first Monet,” Ian growled fiercely, “and I haven’t had a minute’s peace since!” The lock of thick white hair that hung slightly over his forehead swished back and forth as he shook his head. Eyes so brown they were almost black looked frazzled in the harsh tubular lights above his head.
Ian McNamara was just over fifty but he held his age well. Laugh lines around his eyes and mouth told the tale of love and good times in his lifetime, but the grooves in his forehead were magnified when he was under pressure. High cheekbones with a sun bronzed covering gave off the impression of a Highland clansman, although Ian was born in the states. The six-foot-five frame dwarfed most men when he stood up and one could well imagine him charging across the highland grasses in tartan plaid and howling a Scottish war cry.
“The painting stolen tonight is another Monet, which is why I think the two robberies, may be connected. It seems our thief has a passion for Monets.”
Flynn’s eyebrow shot up. “I think you’re going to need more than instinct to support that.”
Ian leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “There were two Picassos hanging on the same wall, and they’re still there. What do you make of that?”
Flynn shrugged. “Okay, I see your point, but it’s only a slim possibility at best. Maybe the thief only had time to steal one. You need more evidence to support it. Were there any other paintings left behind in the first robbery?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t had time to check that detail yet. I was just getting ready to do that when you came in.” He looked through a stack of folders on his desk and took some out. “Here, look through these. As I remember, there weren’t any paintings on the wall where the Monet hung but I can’t remember about the rest of the house. We were mostly concerned about the room it was in. No, wait – damn! There were other paintings in Delacroix’s house.”
The third photo down, Flynn stopped and studied the picture for a moment, and then with an amused grin handed it to Ian. “I think this may blow your theory about a passion for Monets.”
“Why? What is it?” He took the photo and studied it. “What are you talking about, lad?”
“The painting in the bedroom is a Monet,” explained Flynn with an amused grin. “Why didn’t the thief take that one? It’s worth more than the one that was stolen.”
“What? How can that be?” Ian blustered. Then he suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait, I know – that one must be a duplicate, a print! The thief knew that and so only stole the real painting!”
“We won’t know until we see it up close. Is there any chance of getting into Delacroix’s home to view it and these other paintings around the house?”
“I’ll have to make the arrangements.”
Flynn stood up. “You do that. In the meantime, I want to go to tonight’s crime scene and look around.”
Ian stood up too. “I’ll take you out there; I believe some of the forensics team is still working it.”
“You still have Gloria Glandular working on your team?” Flynn teased from another tangent.
Ian’s eyebrows waggled. “That’s Glandula, as you well know, and yes, she’s still here. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you in town.”
Flynn shook his head. “Not my style, Chief.”
“With breasts like that, she’s anybody’s style!”
“Tell her that,” mocked Flynn. “She’s never had eyes for anyone but you, and you know it. It’s a wonder Marlini hasn’t wiped the floor with her.”
“End of conversation,” Ian growled.
Flynn just laughed. Ian juggled a fine line with Gloria on his forensics team and the hot temper of his devoted bride, Marlini. Even though the girl was half Ian’s age, the men couldn’t help but tease him about her adoration of him.
“Where’s your car?” Ian asked as they climbed into the unmarked sedan that belonged to the Chief of Police. It was white, unassuming – and boring! He looked at the old beat-up pickup Flynn pointed out. “Don’t tell me Katherine got your hot rod Ferrari.” He chortled at the scowl that appeared on the younger man’s face. Paybacks were hell; it was Flynn’s turn to squirm.
“She tried,” replied Flynn, who was definitely not amused.
“Damn, lad, I think she set a precedent! I’ve never heard of a woman suing for lack of expectations being fulfilled! You had a real winner there. Another year, and you’d have been legally married to the lass!”
“Not unless we were living together – which we weren’t,” Flynn pointed out dryly. “Trust me, she tried that one, too.”
“I don’t understand what took you so long to get shed of her.”
“We just became a habit to each other, I guess.” Flynn shrugged.
Ian shook his head. “You need a good woman, lad, not one like Katherine. That woman had a fishing line attached to her forehead from the get go. She tried to reel you in like a trout until you finally flipped off the fly.”
“Since you’ve got the only good woman in existence, I’ll just have to make do with what’s left.”
The comment was made with amused sarcasm but Ian half suspected that his young friend meant a lot of it. A smile quirked the corners of his lips as Marlini danced through his mind. Now, there was woman! Feisty, beautiful, and so damned loving that he often wondered how a dour old Scotsman like himself had won such a prize. He loved her more than anything in the world, and he wanted the same thing for those close to him.
Flynn Chambers was like a son to him. He’d been his son Danny’s best friend all through school and into the military. They had even served in the same air force squadron. Flynn had been there when Danny was lost to a cowardly roadside bomb in Iraq. Although he had two other sons and a daughter, he had been especially close to Danny, and his loss was a deep grief that never healed.
Flynn had left the military when his stint was up and gone into investigations and continued his art degree. He’d never seen anyone work harder than this boy to succeed – and succeed he did. He’d see thirty on his next birthday and he already managed an art gallery in St. George, Utah. He also did forensics investigations on an art specialist basis, which was why Ian had called him back to Reno. He needed his expertise on this one. “Don’t worry, lad, she’s out there somewhere. You’ll find her, if you’ll quit hitching up with the likes of Katherine – and stay away from the bar floozies.”
“Maybe,” murmured Flynn, painted blue eyes pushing their way to the front of his thoughts at the mention of bar floozies. Funny that phrase should come up again. He thought his bar floozy must be a cut above the rest, if she actually owned the place. Wait a minute – his bar floozy? Since when had she become his? Flynn had no intention of going anywhere near the Lonely Angel again – even if it did have the most beautiful blue eyed owner he had ever seen.
“Color coming in!” The familiar phrase of a craps player cashing in his chips at the table just behind her drew Bones out of her reverie. She glanced at her watch and grimaced. Two hours she had been sitting here thinking about a man she had never even met! Across a crowded room was such an outdated phrase it was pathetic and yet that was the way she had felt when their eyes had met earlier tonight. She hadn’t been able to look away and she had stared expectantly at him, caught like a rat in a cobra’s hypnotic gaze. She had waited for him to say something, waited for him to approach her, just plain waited for him as long as he was in the room! He never had, though, and she had heaved a shaky sigh of relief, or maybe disappointment, when he had finally turned and gone out the door.
Intuitively, she knew he was dangerous to her, dangerous to her peace of mind, dangerous in ways she could only begin to imagine. The man was a menace, with that smoky blue gaze like campfire smoke curling into the horizon of a Reno high desert sunrise. Her mind’s eye traveled up and down his stature once again, remembering everything about him from his broad shoulders in the white, “rolled up sleeves” shirt to his lean hips and powerful thighs encased snugly in well worn denim. He had worn a black cowboy hat over thick chestnut hair, wavy at his neckline. His arms, his face, and the chest that played peek-a-boo with his open neckline had been brown, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun. Boots had completed the hard-to-ignore image, and his hand had sported no wedding ring.
“You okay, Bones?”
Bones looked up to see Lew, her godfather, mentor and partner in the casino sliding into the chair across from her, his kindly weather beaten face looking concerned. “I’m fine, Lew – just tired.”
“You’ve been sitting here for the last couple of hours,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “Usually, you circle the room several times or get in on a game or two.”
“I know – I’m fine, really.” She smiled wearily. “I think I’ll go up early tonight, Lew. You want to close up for me?”
“You got it, boss,” he said with a chuckle. She lifted her arm to finish off her drink and he noticed the scraped skin on the side of her wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?” He reached over to move the charm bracelet aside, so he could see better but she waved him off with a laugh.
“It’s just a scratch, nothing to worry about.” She yawned widely and stood up with a stretch.
Lew eyed the girl protectively, having seen what had happened earlier. He had been at the bar when the stranger had come in and ordered the drink. He had never seen his goddaughter act that way towards a man. Oh, plenty of men sought her, but she would have nothing to do with them; she didn’t even return their interest. But this one had been different. There had been no mistaking the instant magnetism between them; the air had fairly vibrated with its force. The stranger had paid cash, so he hadn’t been able to glean a name from a credit card or a check. He wondered who he was for the hundredth time tonight – and whether or not he would come back. It was something he’d stake his paycheck on – the stranger coming back. There had been too much tension between them for him not to. It was just a matter of time.
Lew knew the death of her father, his old friend Bennie, had somehow caused a freeze in Bones’ emotions. She was a feisty, laughing girl most of the time but she also harbored thoughts of eventual revenge. If not for the men who had cheated Bennie out of his priceless pieces of art, maybe her father wouldn’t have gone to an early grave. Who knew? But Lew did know that this casino was no place for beautiful young Brenda Sue Radisson, alias Bones, to while away the hours thinking of revenge and shooting craps.
At least she had finally bought a ranch, off Mt. Rose Highway, a couple of years ago where she had two horses and two Aussie Shepherd dogs. It was something to do besides gambling. He was afraid she might become addicted to it like her father had over the years.
When Bennie was in the hospital, Lew had promised to look after Bones, and he’d meant it. He hoped this young man, whoever he was, would come back. The way he had looked at Bones, he had to believe he would. It would do the girl a world of good to get away from all this. She’d been paler lately and she had sat at this table all night reading those horoscopes she was so fond of, instead of helping the patrons. Not that she had to; there were plenty of others to run the tables.
“When you going to break down and sell me controlling interest in this place,” he joked as he stood up with her. He’d asked her that a ton of times before, but the answer was always the same. He had a feeling it had something to do with this revenge she harbored in her heart, but she needed to get past that. It wasn’t good for her to dwell on the idea.
“Not yet, Lew,” she replied, a mysterious smile curving her shapely lips upwards, “one of these days, though.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be old and gray when one of these days gets here!”
Bones didn’t bother to point out that Lew was already forty-five. Lew didn’t see himself as old at all – a trait she dearly loved. She still liked to get in a teasing dig, though. “You’re already getting gray; look in the mirror – and at your young age!” She dodged his big hand as he took a swipe at her behind and chuckled all the way to the private elevator that took her upstairs to her home.
Lew and her father had been friends for years and he was very important to her. If it hadn’t been for him, she didn’t know how she would have coped when Bennie Radisson had passed away. Her father had been the light of her young life – both mother and father to her. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father had refused to give her up. Bennie had insisted on raising her even though some folks thought she didn’t belong anywhere near a casino. He had kept her, anyway. The man had loved her and had taught her everything she knew about playing poker, craps, and any other betting game you could name. He’d been an inveterate gambler – which had eventually led to his downfall.
She stepped off the elevator and put the key in her door lock. It opened easily and she slipped inside, locking it behind her. Shoes were kicked off as she made her way to the drink cabinet in the low lighting of her elegant living room to pour herself a small glass of champagne. She looked around her, admiring the pale green walls and the hand-painted sofa and love seat in a scattered white lilies pattern. The background was white with green stems that bent and swished the lilies across the upholstered fabrics in a tasteful pattern.
She walked to the patio window with her drink in her hand. There were no drapes on the window – just a set of floor length, three inch blinds that covered a sliding door. The door led out to her second story patio that looked out over the twinkling lights of the city. Reno was beautiful at night. She loved the brilliantly lit casinos that lined the boulevards and she would sometimes just sit and watch people walking and driving, always in a hurry. Her mind wasn’t on the view tonight, though; she was occupied with other things. Walking into her bedroom, she made her way to the Monet on the wall above her dresser and lifted her glass in a toast. “One more to go,” she murmured to herself with a wicked grin. “Lew, you’re closer to getting this casino than you think!”
Tomorrow, she would transfer the painting to the ranch and into the private hidden room that had been discovered when the ranch had been remodeled. Only a few people knew about that room – and they weren’t telling. Lew knew she had bought the ranch as a getaway a few years ago, but even he knew nothing about the special room. It already held one Monet and now it would hold two. Soon, it would hold the third and final one. It was just a matter of time and planning. Once she had the third one, she would retire from the casino business and live on the ranch, enjoying her revenge and figuring out what to do next.
She reached down to take off her charm bracelet, the one her father had bought for her when she was a young girl. It had all the signs of the zodiac, including hers, the Gemini twins. Interspersed were small diamonds and rubies, making the bracelet sparkle in the light. The eyes of each of the figures were tiny emeralds and it was her favorite piece of jewelry.
Something odd caught her eye and she held it up to do a double take at the Gemini twins. One of them was missing! How could that be? She held it carefully in the palm of her hand and inspected the minute figure. There had been two of them, each facing the other, hands entwined and toes melded together. One had broken off somehow! Her smooth forehead wrinkled and she absently rubbed the scraped skin on her wrist. It had to have been earlier, when she had hurt herself swinging into that wall – it had to be! She had to go back out there tonight and search the grounds for the piece. But what if she couldn’t find it? What if the police had already found it?
To Be Continued...
