Page 104 of Marked By Moonlight

Roux rubbed his chin, thinking aloud. “Raisa is dead. That leaves the Bulgarian and the tech guy.”

I shook my head. “Bogdan just pulled out. That leaves Jensen.”

Briefly, I filled them in on what the Bulgarian had reported.

“Jensen was Gordon’s top choice all along,” Bene mused.

I shot Roux a look, but he just shrugged. “Gordon will always do what earns him the most.”

I heaved an inner sigh. Clearly, I had to adjust my assumptions about Gordon frombadtoworse.

“According to Bogdan, Gordon stands to earn twenty percent of the selling price,” I murmured, doing a quick calculation. “Twenty percent of eighty-seven million…”

“Seventeen-plus million,” Henrik supplied.

“On top of the selling price,” I emphasized. “If Jensen doesn’t cut Gordon out of the deal.”

Marius snorted. “He can’t be that stupid.”

“Maybe he’s that confident,” Henrik mused.

I made yet another vow to cut ties with my godfather — soon.

Then I caught myself. Soon wasn’t good enough. I needed a deadline.

As soon as this mission was over, I decided, and as soon as the guys completed their contract.

“Will Anastasia even sell the painting to Jensen?” Bene asked. “Will she agree to cutting Gordon out of the deal?”

“Someone killed Raisa and strong-armed Bogdan,” I pointed out. “That someone could be just as ‘convincing’ to Anastasia.”

“The question is, who is he?”

“Or she,” I said.

We all looked in the direction of the adjoining suite.

Chapter Twenty-One

MINA

Ultimately, we agreed on four potential suspects in the murder of Raisa Kepke. Jensen’s motive, we decided, would be to eliminate his competition in the sale. Gordon’s, to secure the highest bidder and earn the highest possible commission. Or it could have been Szabo, working on behalf of Gordon. Alternatively, it could have been Celeste, working on behalf of Gordonoron her own behalf, to somehow profit from the ensuing situation.

“My money’s on Gordon or someone working for Gordon,” Bene decided.

“My money’s on Celeste,” Marius grumbled.

I agreed. It was always a safe bet to assume the worst about that bitch. Er, that woman.

Szabo, we all agreed, was unlikely, mainly because he wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to drink Raisa’s blood. But we couldn’t be sure, given the vagueness of the police report.

“No matter who it was, we have to protect ourselves,” I insisted. “So, from now on, we all share everything we know. No secrets, no matter what Gordon swears any of us to.”

Marius glared at each of the others, reinforcing my point. None of them were team players at heart, but we’d never needed transparency as much as now, when Gordon would happily sacrifice any of them to make his deal work.

And Marius, I knew, would be first on his hit list.

A problem I grappled with all morning and into the afternoon. We were all confined to the suite in a situation that reeked very much of house arrest.