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“Why did I do what?” I narrow my eyes at her, suspicion and defensiveness immediately filling my veins. People have often asked me why I did what I did, but I didn’t want to rehash any of it, especially not with Evangeline.
“Why did you kidnap Chris Wellinger?”
“Kidnap? I’d hardly call it that. He and I were just having a little . . . chat.”
“Was it because you were jealous of him?”
I scoff. “Jealous?”
Evangeline nods. “Yeah. He was very obvious in hisinterest in Connie. At least to me. But she kept laughing it off and said I was being silly, that he was just one of Dad’s business partners.”
It’s so easy to forget Evangeline doesn’t know what happened back then, and I promised Connie I wouldn’t tell anyone. If things were different between Evangeline and me, I might have told her anyway. But since they’re not, we both continue with our secrets and lies.
I glance around to make sure no one’s within earshot before I hiss at her, “You probably shouldn’t be talking about things you know nothing about.”
Her eyes light up and she laughs as if I just said the funniest thing ever. When she glances back at me with an enormous smile aimed at me, my mouth opens of its own volition at her radiating beauty.
A flash lights up somewhere close by, and I snap my head toward it, staring at the grinning face of one of the photographers for the evening. He gives me a thumbs-up and moves on to someone else.
She grips my bicep and squeezes. “That should be a good shot for the press. You might look a little dumbfounded, but that’s okay. We can say you were utterly spellbound by me.”
Damn, this woman and her acting skills. Maybe they work a little too well in public.
I drop my hands from her frame and stare at her. “I need a drink.”
“Will you get me another glass of champagne too, please? I need to use the restroom.” With that, she spins around and walks across the room, turning heads left and right.
My gaze doesn’t leave her swaying hips until she’s out of sight and Holden is with her.
It is beyond me how she could ever think she was born for anything less than the spotlight.
Shit, sheisthe spotlight.
And I hate it with every fiber in my body.
As if sensing where my thoughts are going, my phone vibrates with a message, successfully interrupting the train wreck that is my mind.
Canary
Seems like she’s already got you caught in her web.
Under the message, a photo loads.
It’s one of Evangeline and me from when the photographer stopped by. But this photo is taken from the other side with the photographer behind us. My “informant” took this photo.
I scan the crowd. What for, I’m not sure, since I still have no clue who’s behind these messages. Holden and I have tried everything, but this guy is like a ghost.
Or it could be a woman, as Holden has pointed out several times.
When no one stands out in the crowd, I reread the message.
Me
Where are you?
Canary
Already left. I just wanted to see the lovely couple. You looked awfully cozy together, not like you’re with the woman who put you in prison. I hope you sleep with one eye open, ready to be stabbed again in the back. Maybe this time, for real.