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“Are you joking?”

“No, I mean it. Your technique is very good, even as you were tired.”

“Thank you, babe.” Lia smiled and brushed a light kiss over her lips. Coming from her wife, who was a powerful and skilled fighter, this was a lovely compliment.

“So, what’s going on?” Quinn prompted.

Without further ado, Lia told her about the patterns she had noticed in the blogs. She did it the same way she had explained it to Demi, by highlighting the sentences that were written all in caps, and talking about a signature style.

“Okay. Nice bit of observation.” Quinn stared intently into her eyes. “You know someone who writes like that?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Brooke Oldfield.”

For a moment, Quinn’s face looked blank; then, she frowned in recognition.

“Brooke?” she repeated. “Your ex?”

“Yeah.” Lia nodded with a heavy sigh.

“But I thought you said you were on good terms?”

“Yes, yes.”

“And she’s the one who broke up with you. Right?”

“Right. Yes. That’s correct.”

Lia had met her former partner on a journalistic assignment to Iraq when both were separately granted permission to embed with a troop of soldiers on the ground. Lia as a photographer, Brooke as a writer for the New York Times. It seemed logical to team up for the duration. The two women grew close during the adventure, and it also made sense, upon their return home, for them to move in together. Considered rising stars of the media, they started to travel the world on various assignments. Along with the best jobs, they also received lucrative contracts from major networks. Building a stellar partnership in all aspects of life, really. Until Lia’s father fell seriously ill, and she decided to put him first ahead of her career. Brooke stuck with her for a few challenging months, but then she made her own choice, and the relationship did not survive. Though Lia grieved the loss of her fiancée at the time, she never harbored a grudge. Especially not now that she was married to Quinn. She and Brooke were not meant to be for the long term. She was fine with that.

“This makes no sense, Lia.”

“Don’t you think?”

“No. The blogs are targeting me.”

“But of course, they are!” Lia exclaimed. “Come on, Quinn. Coming at me directly would never be as effective as hurting you! If Brooke is behind this… Goddammit! I will never forget her for the devastated look in your eyes when you first told me you were under investigation.”

Even now, thinking about it made Lia’s blood boil in pure rage. Quinn pulled her gently against her.

“Hey. Please, don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset. I am pissed off and protective.”

“Okay, yes.” Quinn flashed a bright, warm smile if a touch on the sheepish side. They’d already established she found the protective streak alluring. “Now, listen: lots of people write stuff all in caps to emphasize a point.”

“I know. But this is too much coincidence.”

“Have you heard from Brooke in recent times?”

“No. And that’s strange in itself because she used to send me postcards from exotic locations once or twice a year. But I’ve been so busy… And so happy with you, Quinn, that I have not thought of her in a long time.”

“Are you feeling guilty about that?”

“Well.” Lia sighed again. Her wife knew her so well… “Yes, I am, a little bit. And here’s why.” She clicked on another screen, a Hotmail address. “Not long after I met you, I started drowning in junk emails on this thing. I just assumed the account had been hacked, somehow, and created a new one on Google. I’m pretty sure I gave Brooke the new contact, as well as to other friends of mine, but it seems she didn’t get the message.”