beauty who paused to admire an oil painting of Artemus with a quiver of arrows.
Maybe it was her flawless skin, touched with only the barest color to enhance a mouth designed to kiss. She wore a chiffon gown to distinguish her from the crowd of the flashy sequins and beads that defined American haute couture, the filmy off-white gown clinging to her body with classic lines hinting at all the long curves below.
She was subtle seduction as opposed to bold temptation, a woman who made him imagine two bodies close in the darkness and the sound of breathless sighs. Soft brown hair fringed around her face and neck, sexy for the way it framed her features. His gaze followed the graceful lines of her throat, and the pulse beating there, another place ripe for kissing.
He would have noticed this woman even if the gala kicking off this new exhibit hadn’t been a bore. But he couldn’t fault his hostess. As a member of the Covington family—one of the mainstays on the NewYork society scene since somewhere around the mid-nineteenth century—Lily had perfected hosting philanthropic events into an art form.
Select members of the Westbrook Philharmonic filled the gallery with music. Le Kevin, hailed as Manhattan’s latest culinary genius, catered the event with a menu of shellfish flown in from Maine and delicate hand-pressed pasta that melted on the tongue. Champagne flowed.
But not even Moët could wash away the taste of the business that had brought him to New York.
No, he assumed all responsibility for his current mood.
Forcing a smile, Joshua mouthed all the polite responses to Lily’s comments about the Graces under discussion while covertly checking out the lady in white, as he christened her.
The sight of her, at least, improved his mood.
He watched her accept a champagne flute from a passing waiter, the gesture graceful, her smile fast and real. There it was again…that impression.
This woman struck him as having much beneath her surface that she didn’t bother to hide. It was only a sense he got from watching her, but he didn’t question his perception. He was an exceptional judge of character.
A skill that always served him well.
Putting that skill to work now, he sliced his gaze across the crowd, passing over several potential prospects to mark the wife of a state senator who’d captured his party’s interest.
“I see Carolyn Vandeveer came in from Washington to attend tonight,” he said.
“She and the senator are wooing support for their upcoming presidential bid.” Lily’s tone remained unimpressed.
But Joshua knew his hostess would credit the senator’s wife with the appropriate attention. Lily respected the status of her social standing, and presidential hopefuls were only a small percentage among those who sought favor from the Covington family.
So Joshua maneuvered Lily away from the Graces with questions about another artifact and steered her in Mrs. Vandeveer’s direction. He needed to get about the business that had brought him to this museum. Only then would he be free to enjoy the night ahead.
To make the lady in white’s acquaintance.
Hooking up Lily and the senator’s wife over an urn, he participated in their conversation for a respectable few beats then begged his excuses and headed across the gallery.
Resisting the urge to glance at the lady in white, who’d been drawn into conversation with Jeffrey Baldwin of the Boston metals conglomerate—a slick bastard who never missed a trick—Joshua nodded to an usher and stepped into the hall.
While turning, he pitched a nickel behind him with a surreptitious motion, and the tinkle of the coin hitting the floor resounded exactly where he’d meant it to—inside the gallery. When the usher turned around, Joshua vanished down the hall that led to the restrooms.
Chattering voices over the smooth strains of classical music soon faded, yielding to the muted silence of an after-hours museum. Glancing at his watch, he pushed open the restroom door and entered a foyer decorated in the fashion of a gentleman’s drawing room. Joshua peered around the corner to confirm he was alone then retrieved his cell phone from a jacket pocket. He depressed a series of numbers.
The ring tone sounded only once before a gravel-voiced man picked up and asked, “You’re on schedule?”
“Yes. What about you?”
“No problems.”
“Good. Three minutes.”
Joshua severed the connection, depressed another button to activate the vibrating ringer and swapped the phone for a pair of black gloves. After donning them, he withdrew a small electronic device from his pocket and cracked the restroom door again. He glanced into the hallway to find it empty, although voices carried from the nearby ladies’ room.
Moving quickly past, Joshua raised the digital imaging device above his head and paused long enough to capture a shot of the dim hall leading to a stairwell exit.
The security monitor was positioned in the upper south corner of the ceiling, and he stopped directly beneath the camera to remain out of range.
It was a trick to balance with a foot on the narrow baseboard and the other bracing the wall, but even at six foot two, he couldn’t easily make the stretch to the ceiling. Slipping the captured image in front of the camera lens with a practiced move, he pressed down to activate the adhesive and secure the device to the crown molding.
And shut down the live feed. Until he removed the device, the security monitors on the basement level would show only the captured image of the empty hall, leaving him free to move to the stairway without detection.
He hoped this device was an unnecessary precaution. He’d arranged for tonight’s contact to bypass this security zone. But Joshua didn’t trust his fate to any man, and the idea of a camera documenting his travels into places that would raise questions wasn’t a risk he would take.
He trusted his fate to no one.
Not that tonight’s business associate presented a significant risk. This career police officer had more to lose than Joshua. In fact, until their business, this officer had been an upstanding citizen with an exemplary career record.
Unfortunately, no man was perfect, and Joshua had built a career out of uncovering other men’s imperfections.
Shaking off the thought, he moved quietly toward the exit at the end of the hall and slid through the doorway as he heard the ladies’-room door hiss open.
The third-floor stairwell was empty, but he waited until footsteps echoed below before beginning his descent. Joshua couldn’t remember exactly when he’d gotten so cautious, but cautious he’d become. Pausing in the shadows, he waited for his contact to appear for a visual verification.
There he was.
Dressed for tonight’s stint as a rent-a-cop, the man’s neatly pressed NYPD uniform fit snugly on his thick shoulders and barrel chest.
“Any problems?” Joshua descended the last few steps.
The officer shook his head. “We’re covered. I disarmed the sector. You brought the
