Lasting Pride (Pride Series Romance Novels) (6 page)

The next morning as Rob sat in the bull pen, she listened to her messages and laughed. How did that man know how to irritate her so much? But, she was in a good mood today and wouldn’t let a call from a very handsome, but irritating, Ric Derby hinder it.

Just as she was going to pick up her phone to call him back, Brian, a fairly new detective, walked up to her and leaned on her desk.

“So,” he said, letting his eyes wander over her gray blouse. “I hear we caught your art thief.” He continued to stare at her chest instead of her eyes.

“Brian,” Rob said, in a very calm voice, “If you don’t get your sleazy ass off my desk and your beady little eyes off my chest,” she smiled up at him. “I’m going to take my stun gun out and stick it between your legs.” She stood and walked to the sergeant’s office without looking back. But, from the sounds behind her, she knew he’d removed his butt from her desk.

“Why did I have to hear about you guys catching my art thief from tall, sleazy, and annoying out there.” She nodded towards the large windows that overlooked the bull pen as she stood in Sergeant’s office.

“Because, you were late,” he said, without looking up from the pile of paperwork on his desk.

“Bull sh…” she didn’t get to finish, since he’d raised his head and was giving her a death stare. She cleared her throat. “That’s bull and you know it, sir.” She sat down on the couch. He had two perfectly good black leather chairs that sat right in front of his desk, which everyone else always sat on. Rob, however, chose to sit further back in the room on the soft couch. Crossing her legs, she continued. “I’m never late.”

Smiling, the sergeant stood up and walked around his desk then leaned a hip on the corner.

“
Do you know why I took this job?” he asked.

Rob had played this game several times over the past five years since he’d been promoted to sergeant.

“No sir, tell me why,” she smiled at his irritation.

“No sir, tell me why,” he mimicked, but had a smile on his face. “You know damn well, why I took this job. I took this job so I didn’t have to deal with snot nosed punks like you.” His eyes laughed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now you have to deal with all that,” she pointed to the large pile of papers, which covered half of his desk.

He took a big breath and released it, “Your bald art thief is in holding room five. They brought him in,” he leaned over and pulled a file from a stack, “at zero six hundred hours. It appeared he was getting gas at a 7-Eleven when one of our black and whites spotted him. The arrest was quiet. Kenny Sorvillo, that’s your perp, called his lawyer, a Mr…” He flipped the file open and pulled out a business card and handed it to her.

“Mr. Kent,” she read out loud.

“Like I said,
they
are in room five. Go get ‘em.” He tossed her the file.

Two hours later, Rob had sweat trickling down her back, and a growing headache. It appeared that Mr. Kent knew what he was doing. Not only did his client obey his every eye twitch, his lawyer was pulling the whole
“you’ve got the wrong man”
scenario. And, his lawyer had some shady proof to boot. Rob didn’t like it. Something about the whole setup stunk. But, since his lawyer had small proof, in way of a hotel receipt, which put Kenny Sorvillo in Kalama, Washington a good forty minute drive from The Blue Spot the evening of the burglary, they couldn’t hold him for too long. Just until a judge looked at everything and set bail which might happen later that day.

But, the icing on the cake of proof had been the late night purchase at a local diner which showed he’d not only spent the night in Kalama, but he’d enjoyed a mid-night snack, complete with a receipt and his signature.

The man might even walk free if the judge allowed. It didn’t mean he had to walk far and without someone watching him.

R
ic was busy looking over his files as the plane landed in LA for a charity show that night. One that he had been planning for months. The event was for another Alzheimer’s charity that Allison had gotten him involved in a few years back when her mother had been diagnosed and she had several new pieces in tonight’s auction. Since it was hosted at his gallery, he had made sure personally that everything was in place.

He enjoyed charity events more than the normal art events that came with the job. Stuffy people in stuffy rooms, but since this one was in his own place, he was a lot happier to attend it.

He usually spent a few months in California a year, but for the most part, he’d taken to running everything from his Portland offices. He felt more at home there and was actually thinking of it more as the base of his operation.

Later that evening as he stood next to the Countess Regina, one of his regular patrons, he watched his friend Mitchell Kovich march across the room, heading in his direction. Mitchell was his contact in New York the man who’d introduce him to Sandi.

“There you are, Ric,” Mitchell said, pulling a flute of champagne off a waiter’s silver tray as he passed. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you the last few days.”

Ric excused himself from the countess and pulled Mitchell across the room where there were less people. His friend was almost ten years younger than him. His wire frame was that of a swimmer, that’s actually how the two had met in college. Mitchell had been a skinny freshmen being picked on by some of the larger swim team members, when Ric had been walking by and stopped the fight. Mitch had a broken nose to show for the incident and a new friend.

“What the devil is going on with Sandi, I haven’t been able to get through to her for weeks. The embassy is a mess…”

“
Hang on there Ric, I’ve some news on that subject,” he took a large swig of the drink and grabbed another from the same waiter who’d circled the room. Ric started getting more concerned since he knew Mitch wasn’t a drinker. “there’s been a major – incident.”

“Incident?”

“Listen Ric,” Mitch looked around the room, “things have gotten a little out of hand.” He tossed back the next drink. “I’ve had to pull some strings, using your name and I think I screwed up big time.”

“What do you…” Just then, Ric’s cell phone vibrated. Looking at the number, he recognized the detective’s office number. “Hang on, I’ve got to take this call.”

Ric answered as he watched Mitchell walk back across the room and grabbed another flute which he downed quickly. His friend kept looking around the room, looking for someone, or looking to avoid someone he didn’t know.

“How can I help you this evening detective?” He said smoothly.

“You can tell me where the hell you are and why you’re butt is not in Portland.” He could hear the anger in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving town? We have an open case here, and you go flying off to be with….” He heard her take a deep breath.

“I wasn’t aware that the Portland PD needed to know my whereabouts at all times.” He leaned against the door jam and enjoyed the annoyance in her voice. Would her eyes be sparking fire as he imagined? He smiled imagining the flames shooting in his direction from her.

“Listen Mr. Derby, I made it perfectly clear that I needed to know if you left town for any length of time. I’m trying to run an investigation here, unless you forgot.”

“How could I forget? After all, it is my art that is missing, and my assistant that was killed.” He could hear a loud noise on her line in the background.

“Yeah, well -” he heard her drop the phone, then there was loud popping noise and finally he heard her say, “Someone come get this damn drunk off the floor, he just puked all over my boots.” After a shuffle, he heard her say, “Brian, you jackass, next time cuff the perp before you decide to take a bathroom break. Now, he not only puked on my new boots, he’s also torn my good shirt. You owe me big time rookie.”

He didn’t hear the man’s reply, but when Rob came back on the phone, he thought she said, “Asshole,” under her breath.

“Problem, Detective?” Ric asked.

“Nothing that 50,000 volts and a good shoe shine couldn’t handle.” He chuckled, as she continued. “Listen, I needed to know when you leave Portland, I’ve got some questions…”

“I’ll be back in town tomorrow mid-day. How about we meet for lunch?”

“No, I’ll stop by later this week.” He thought he heard annoyance in her voice as she hung up.

Ric hung up with Rob and looked around for Mitchell, but he was gone. Something ate at Ric and he told himself that he needed to check into a few things when he got back to Portland. He didn’t like that Mitchell had been the one to introduce him to Sandi and now she had disappeared and now Mitchell was nervous and acting strange, which wasn’t like him.

Rob hung up the phone and looked down at her torn shirt and her freshly puked on boots.

Her annoyance wasn’t with the boots or her cloths, Ric Derby was the cause of her problems right now. The man had flown to LA today without telling her he was leaving town. She’d called his office and that assistant of his had informed her that he was out of town for a show with Allison. It wasn’t as if she needed to keep an eye on him, but he was a suspect, granted very low on her list. Okay, dead last on her list. But, he was still on it.

She marched out of the office to clean up her shoes and put on her backup shirt she kept in her locker.

Ric Derby was trouble. She knew it, so why did she have to find his voice so damn sexy?

The next evening, she was sitting at her desk, Brian had harassed her all day about this or that, so she wasn’t in a good mood. When she looked up and saw Ric walking across the crowded room, she immediately went on alert.

Why did he have to look so good? His suit was dark gray this time. Did he have a full closet of them in different colors? He had the standard bright blue tie on today, which matched his eyes perfectly. Did he have them specially made? Here it was, she looked at her watch, seven o’clock in the evening, and he looked like he’d just walked off the catwalk.

Shaking her head, she nodded to him as he approached.

“I thought we decided I’d stop by later this week.” She went back to the stack of papers on her desk. Giving each her full attention. Well, maybe not her fullest. How could she concentrate when he was staring at her like that?

“You agreed,” he sat in the chair next to her desk. “I on the other hand didn’t say anything of the sort.” He leaned closer to look at the papers she was trying to concentrate on. “You look busy.”

“Hmm,” she flipped the page, “I’m searching through your records, trying to find a connection on the pieces taken.”

“Well, why don’t we take these someplace more quiet and grab some food while we’re at it. I’d be glad to help out.” He started to pick up one of the large stacks of files she had.

“No,” she tried to stop him, “I can handle my job just fine.” He sat the files back down.

“Just trying to help. After all, this was my art. I do have a little more background on them than these files would have.” He smiled.

Looking at him, she tilted her head, and realized it was true. He’d know the artists personally and he probably even knew what they were wearing when each one was painted.

“Fine, but you’re paying for dinner.”

The dark man watched as the couple left the building together. He’d followed her back over to the police station. Trying to find a pattern, trying to find his opening. He wanted his hands on the woman. After seeing her for the first time, he knew she was another item he wanted. Nothing had ever stopped him before, and he always got what he wanted. But he had Ric to take care of first, before he could think about his own pleasures.

He would just have to change his plans a little. Move his pawns around and find his best strategy. He was good at strategy, after all, that’s what people paid him loads of money for.

“You’ve got some place here, nice view,” she walked around his apartment, looking out at the lights of the city which reflected off the river.

He liked the tight black pants she wore. They had pockets with buttons on her butt, which just made him want to look at her butt more. She’d removed her jacket and he liked the button up short sleeved shirt she was wearing. The dark red color set off the tones of her hair somehow.

“It has its perks,” he set the large box of files on his coffee table. The pizza box was balanced on top of it. “Do you want some wine with the pizza?” He walked to the kitchen, she followed.