Page 82 of The Butterfly Killer

The room hadn’t been out of control, but the soft chatter fell silent as the woman introduced herself and the “cause” the auction was going toward.

Burns tuned the bullshit out. They were in the middle of the seated guests. Though their backs were facing the door, Burns felt he had a good view of the rest of the room. He figured they were going to sit and just watch everyone do a pissing contest at who could be the better saint.

However, when the bidding for the art pieces created by artists in “low in-come neighborhoods” started, it was to his shock that Mercer started actuallybetting.

The woman at the podium smiled and pointed at Mercer’s held sign. “$250,000 to the gentlemen in seat fifteen.”

Burns shot his partner a bewildered look.

“$300,000 to the gentlemen in seat thirty-two.”

Mercer raised his sign again, bidding $300,00 on a porcelainmailbox. Burns’s head whipped around as a couple more people betted on the art piece, raising it up to $750,000.

Mercer bowed out.Thank God.

The room clapped as the winning bettor waved and soaked up the praise.

“What was that?” Burns’s hand tightened on Mercer’s thigh.

Mercer fanned himself with the betting sign. He leaned his arm on the back of Burns’s chair. “Cortez won’t appreciate a show-off at his hosted event. The more I flaunt my money, the more of his attention I’m buying.”

Burns took the information in. Again, Mercer was right. Cortez was power hungry. Though this was a charity event and people were expected to flaunt their wealth, Cortez wouldn’t be able to stop himself from wanting to one-up a man trying to steal the spotlight.

Burns glanced to the back of the room where Cortez sat in his own spot in the corner, surrounded by his men obviously.

He couldn’t see the man clearly. His face was shrouded in darkness. He watched as the man called over one of his men and spoke to them. There was a sharp nod from the man as he walked off to do something Cortez had asked of him.

The next item to be auctioned was brought onto stage. Mercer waited for someone to bid before he did. He did this over and over again, sometimes winning the bid for a ridiculous amount that caused Burns’s jaw to drop to the floor. Sometimes he let the bid slip from his hands though by the look on his face, he was doing it on purpose. Burns didn’t know if anyone else knew this was simply a game for Mercer, but Burns could see how much Mercer was enjoying playing with everyone’s emotions in the room.

Burns couldn’t risk another glance back up at Cortez’s balcony. He was itching to know what reaction the man was having because he knew Mercer’s plan had to be working. There was no doubt in Burns’s mind that Mercer always knew how to rile someone up. He was a master at finding weaknesses.

When the entire auction was over, the woman gave a closing speech. Just when Burns thought this night was wrapping up and they would finally get to the real reason they were here tonight, the woman invited the highest bidder up to the podium to give some words.

“Mr. James Mercer, we welcome you to give a closing statement and to accept a letter from Mr. Cortez on behalf of the community.”

A round of applause was deafening to Burns’s ears. He was quite shocked when Mercer stood up and went up to the stage. There hadn’t been a hint of hesitance in his step. He’d known all along that this would happen. It was another way to poke at the bear who was Cortez.

And Burns wasn’t dumb to think Mercer wasn’t getting some sick validation from this. The man was a fucking narcissist.

“Thank you,” Mercer said as he spoke into the mic. “I want to thank the wonderful artists who made these beautiful pieces and gave us all a chance to display them in our homes. I’d also thank Mr. Cortez for holding this event. I know I speak for everyone when I say he’s an honorable man who’s done a lot for this city.”

More applause but there was trepidation. Some had picked up on the slight sarcasm Mercer couldn’t help but slip in.

Burns knew the moment Cortez entered the room. There was a change in the air that could be felt. It was a dark energy that had Burns wanting to reach for his gun—which he didn’t have on him. He clenched his fist. The impulse was hard to fight.

Cortez strode down the aisle. The applause was almost deafening. This man didn’t just have these people in his pockets—he had them eating out of his fucking hand.

Mercer shook hands with Cortez. The way they were looking at each other, Burns was sure someone was going to break their wrist. To his relief, Mercer let go of Cortez’s hand and let the man take over the podium.

“A man who takes over my own heart. It’s my honor to host someone so generous.”

Another round of applause. The tension in the air made Burns sick.

Cortez handed Mercer a letter and put a hand on his shoulder. They smiled for a picture and it was the most awkward thing Burns had ever seen. This was going to make headlines and Burns could only pray no one looked much further into Mercer.

He was cursing inside his head when Mercer came back down to his seat.

“I think you got his attention,” Burns hissed through clenched teeth. “Could you have been any more obvious? You were practically sniffing right up his ass!”

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