Page 9 of Undercover Star
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"OH MY GOD!" MATISSEgroaned as they took in Marissa Goodwin, garbed for battle. She looked severe in six-inch heels, a high-necked, black sheath dress, and contrasting burgundy jacket. Her hair was caught back in a chignon, and the rubies in her ears had been a gift from him. A thank you for helping him secure Comraich, his sanctuary. "Do you really have to pull out the big guns for an appointment with the witches?"
"Don't be insolent, brat." She swiped at the back of his head, but Matisse had expected the move and spun smartly out of the way. "Dressing not to offend was out of the question, I suppose?"
"Oh, totally."
Before he could expand on the sentiment, Marissa's gaze fell on Josh. "Detective Inspector Ingram?"
"Ma'am."
She almost swiped him a clip around the ear, too, and Matisse couldn't hold back his laughter at Josh's shock.
"Marissa will do, thank you. You may not remember me, but we have been introduced. Tell me what you need from us."
"Well...." Josh looked a little wide-eyed, as if he hadn't expected to be asked for desired outcomes, though he clearly had a wish list. "Well," he drawled after a deep breath. "Seeing how our rock star isn't really fond of the owners—" He dodged Matisse's kick aiming for his shins.
"You're a jerk."
"And you are a—"
"Boys. I don't have all day. If you could state your requirements, Inspector, we could all get on and get out. And for your information, I'm not fond of the owners either. Maybe you should keep that in mind."
Josh's ears blushed a delicate pink at the rebuke, and Matisse felt unexpectedly protective. And confused. He adored Marissabecauseshe was arrow-straight and needle-sharp. She didn't bullshit and gloss over issues, and she reacted with nothing but scorn to insincerity and flattery. It was what made her so good at her job. Matisse had her back, just as she had his. If anyone wanted anything from him, they'd better listen to Marissa.
Josh, despite the momentary embarrassment, got right to the point. "I need to check the area where I'm expecting the thief to operate. And as I'm acting as Matisse's official minder for the evening, I need him to show me what he is doing and where he'll be, so we can coordinate our movements."
"You want Matisse with you is what I'm hearing?"
"Yes."
"Excellent." She turned from Josh and her gaze softened as her eyes met Matisse's. "You realise we have to give some?"
"Yeah. They're bound to put me up first or something, but that's not a bad thing. Right? Josh needs to be here early in case the thief shows up." The Kilbride House Charity Gala was an event where few guests seemed to enjoy themselves. Many of the press-ganged celebrities showed up, performed their allocated task, and took their leave as quickly as decency permitted. "Could you get a list of this year's charities? A peek at the guest list would be good, too."
She nodded. "If I spot any of your favourites, I'll let you know. Lynn is expecting you two after we're done here."
"Are you coming back with us?"
"No. I'm due at the BBC."
Her words lit a fire under his tail, as she'd known they would. He turned to Josh. "Ready to do this?"
If their exchange had confused Josh, he didn't show it. "Ready."
Marissa pressed the bell. The pedestrian gate slid aside to let them through, and the front door opened as they approached.
The entrance hall stretched the full width of the house and all the way up to the roof to a fine display of ancient, smoke-stained timber beams. Staircases rose on both sides at the back of the hall, leading to several gorgeous, staged rooms where the owners showed off tapestries, paintings, antique furniture, and their jewellery and trinket collections.
In any other old house, these would have been public rooms, open to visitors. Not here. The Levingtons were collectors, but they guarded their treasures as if a stray gaze could tarnish them. The philanthropy they tried to display with the annual charity gala was little more than skin deep. Matisse had often wondered why people even bothered to turn up for the event, and he'd yet to find an answer.
The elder of the two sisters, Penelope, waited for them at the back of the hall. Thin and tall like her siblings, she stood straight and looked down her nose at her visitors. Or she tried. It didn't work when Josh stepped up between him and Marissa, and Matisse was hard pressed not to laugh at the look on Penelope Levington's face.
"I'm ready to discuss the arrangements for the gala." Marissa started without preamble. "Mr. Ingram would like to review the rooms where the event is being held. Could you spare one of your staff to show them around?"
Penelope curled her lip. "My staff is busy. I'm sure Mr. Vervein remembers where the gala is held, even though he has not bothered to attend it during the last two years."
Of course she would point out that he'd offended her. Matisse was about to reply in kind when the ghost of a touch to the small of his back stopped him before he could draw a breath.
