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The receptionist looked into Montana’s eyes, his never blinking. “Of course. Wait here.” He rose to his feet and walked down an expansive hallway.
“Interesting fella,” Grant mumbled.
“Guarded. Just like she taught him.” He walked toward the bank of windows, passing through an impressive set of leather sofas. She’d spared no expense. He heard Grant pacing back and forth, restless as usual. After a full minute he checked his watch, surprised five minutes had past.
“Detective Givens?”
Her voice purred like velvet. Montana turned. The woman standing in front of him was very much a surprise. She was dressed in a tailored suit and stilettos, her hair tightly spun in a bun. Her jewelry and make-up was professional. “Ms. Devereaux, thank you for seeing us.”
“Certainly. Please come into my office where we can talk.” She turned and walked quickly, obviously anticipating they’d follow.
“Curt,” Grant whispered.
Nodding, he looked from right to left as they walked down the hall. He noticed only one person sitting in a series of well adorned offices. The Mistress worked fascinating hours.
She closed the door and walked around the other side of her desk. “I have exactly ten minutes. You asked about the name of one of my employees, the one I fear missing.” Jade shifted through files on her desk, producing one. She opened the file and gazed at the contents. Seconds later she closed the file.
“Okay. Ten minutes. Yes, you mentioned you were worried. What was her name?” Montana inched closer, easing out his hand in an effort to keep Grant quiet. He’d seen a picture of a very pretty girl attached to what looked like an application.
“Trixie.” She looked up at Montana.
He could see a shadow in her eyes for a split second. “That was her submissive name?”
“Yes,” she stated and never looked away.
“What was her real name?” The only way he could tell she was nervous was the shift from one foot to the other. When she hesitated, he opened the notebook he was carrying, easing out a crime scene photo. “Is this Trixie?”
Jade shifted her gaze downwards and offered no expression. “Yes.”
He looked at Grant, who shrugged.
“And her name?” Montana wanted her to make the connection. Now they had two.
“You understand that her employment must be held in the strictest confidence,” she stated as if the girl was working for a law firm.
“At this point we have no need to identify her outside source of income.” Montana could hear the wheels in Grant’s brain churning.
“Very well, detective. She worked for me occasionally. Candace Williams.”
“Doing what exactly?” Montana asked as he studied her reactions.
She smiled and tipped her head. “You are well aware of the club, detective. Let’s not play games. Trixie, as she was known to the men who frequented my club, worked the room. Her assignment was to flirt, make the guests feel comfortable and to occasionally be a part of the room.”
“The room?” Grant asked as he scanned her office. He had a condescending lilt in his voice.
“Yes,” she stated without looking in his direction.
Montana exhaled. “The playroom, where all BDSM things occur.”
“Well, the majority of them. Perhaps you’d care to enjoy a night, detective. You could be my guest.” Her laugh was laced with a hint of desire.
“Not my scene but thank you. So she had special dates.”
She pulled a cigarette from a gold holder. “Cigarette, gentlemen?”
“No thanks. Answer my question.” Montana was growing weary. She was hiding details.
“Mmmm… Some of my girls do. We have special clients as I mentioned.”
