Page 22 of Donovan Blake: Adrenalin

“How did you find out?”

“You know his long-time girlfriend, Candy. As you know she calls herself Candy Bright, but her real name is Candace Barrow. Well, Candace Barrow just bought a Ferrari, and she used that Southampton address.”

“That must mean Manny wants us to know it’s his property.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Sam said with a sigh. “He loves playing games.”

“How long has he owned it?”

“I’m just being handed the information now. Hold on…the house was bought three years ago by a company called…fuck…”

“That’s an interesting name for a company.”

“Donovan, please. The company name is MTC Bar Enterprises.”

“Clever,” Donovan remarked. “Anyone looking at that would think the place is owned by a company manufacturing MCT snack bars. But it’s MT for Manny Trubello, and C Bar for Candace Barrow.”

“Exactly.”

“So—why is he letting this information out now?”

“That’s the question,” Sam said solemnly. “Just when Boris wants you to steal a priceless necklace from him, this happens. I’m willing to bet that piece of jewelry is about as hot as a rocket blasting into space.”

“Sam, I don’t like this. I’m going to tell Boris to find someone else. Besides, you’ve got enough to nail him, and from what you’ve told me, you can get Franco as well. It’s time to put this operation to bed.”

“Not so fast. If I can get all three of them, Boris, Franco and Manny, that would be a triumph. Even legendary!”

“Did you forget Franco just tried to have me killed?” Donovan exclaimed testily. “And did you also forget stealing that priceless Ming Dynasty Seal from the exhibition was virtually impossible and it was only dumb luck that got me out of there?”

“But you did it. That’s what makes you the best. You always land on your feet.”

“Except when I don’t,” Donovan grunted. “That’s how I ended up working for you. We have a deal. You keep me from ending up behind bars with my life in tatters, and I help you to nail slippery suspect from time to time. You never said anything about Russian gangsters. That’s it. I’ve done my part, and I had to be around that lunatic Franco to make it happen. He wasn’t part of our arrangement but you’ve got him anyway. A nice fat bonus. Our deal is done. Now I get to walk away with my money and my life in tact. And before you call me again, I need a break, at least three months.”

“Donovan…let me ask you something.”

“Ask me anything you want, but trying to steal that necklace is insane, and if you threaten to go back on your word I can always go public.”

“Just hold on…that wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

“Trying to break into Manny Trubello’s estate and trying to steal that necklace won’t be good either—especially for me.”

“Again…let me ask you something.”

“Okay, but make it quick. I have a very appealing distraction waiting for me.”

“It’s about your BDSM club and that fire a few months ago. There was never a positive conclusion about who started it or why. The crime remains unsolved.”

Donovan inwardly groaned at the reminder.

The disastrous event had happened on a Saturday night. The club was packed, and it was only the quick thinking of two of his dungeon masters that had prevented any serious injuries and major property damage.

“Donovan? Are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he growled, suddenly needing a drink and marching down the hall to his den.

“Do you have any theories about the people behind it?”

“Just vague suspicions,” he said brusquely, walking through the door and heading straight for the liquor cabinet. “But I beefed up security, most of it unseen, so if anyone tries it again he—or she—will have a problem. A big one!” he exclaimed, pouring whiskey in a glass and downing a gulp.

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