Page 91 of The Murder Club

Dom wasn’t afraid of the man calling Zac. Partially because he didn’t believe he was willing to invite the lawman to the lodge. Not when he might snoop around. And partially because he didn’t think for a minute that Zac would blame them for demanding answers from the man who was spying on Bailey.

Still, it was obvious Thorpe Curry was done answering their questions. At least for the moment.

“Let’s go, Bailey.” He squeezed her fingers. “We know where to find him if we have more questions.”

“Or if I decide to sue him for invading my privacy,” Bailey added. “I know a lawyer who would be happy to get a lawsuit started.”

“All my cameras are on public property,” Thorpe retorted, but he couldn’t hide his hint of unease.

He might not worry about getting the shit beat out of hm, but he didn’t want to be sued.

Dom wasn’t patient enough to allow the wheels of justice to grind. “A warning, Thorpe,” he said between clenched teeth. “Remove the cameras or I will.”

Turning, Dom led Bailey through the open glass doors and down the stairs. He picked up his pace as they walked down the grassy slope to reach the parking lot. He wanted Bailey far away from this lodge. And Thorpe Curry.

Chapter 19

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Bailey leaned forward to switch on the heater. The sunlight was fading and there was a distinct chill in the air. Or maybe her shivers were caused by a delayed reaction to the realization that Thorpe Curry had been spying on her for months. What kind of psycho put a camera in front of a woman’s house in the hopes of catching her in a scandal?

And worse, he wasn’t even the stalker. Or at least he didn’t appear to be the stalker. Which meant there was more than one person out there following her around.

It was enough to make her consider packing her things and driving as far away from Pike, Wisconsin, as possible.

“Are you okay?”

The soft question shattered the rising sense of panic, and with a shaky sigh she turned her head to study Dom’s profile. Even in the gathering dusk she could make out the stern lines of his face, revealing he was battling his own tumultuous emotions. The knowledge somehow eased her fear. Whatever happened, she wasn’t alone.

Dom Lucier would be at her side.

“Not really,” she admitted, snuggling back in the soft leather seat as they bumped over the dirt path. “You know, even after all the terrible things that have happened, I wanted to believe that Pike is a good place to live. And that my neighbors are decent people.”

“Most of them are decent,” he insisted. “It’s like any town: good guys and bad guys and lots of guys in between.”

She shook her head. Dom hadn’t been here for the past few years. It’d been one horrible event after another. As if they’d been cursed.

“Pike feels like it’s had more than its fair share of bad guys.” She wrinkled her nose. “And gals.”

“Maybe,” Dom conceded, accepting she was the expert on Pike. Then his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “One thing is for certain: Kaden’s going to lose his shit when he finds out what that creep has been doing. Assuming I don’t kill him first.”

Bailey didn’t even want to think about Kaden’s reaction. Especially when he learned that Thorpe was the one responsible for selling the photos of his wedding and spying on Bailey in the hopes of getting dirt on Lia.

Instead, she concentrated on why they’d gone to the lodge in the first place. “Do you think he was telling the truth?”

“I believe he’s a paparazzo and that he came to Pike to make a lot of money off Kaden,” Dom said slowly, as if he was considering his answer. “Whether or not he has other motives for being in town is an open question.”

“I feel like we turned over a rock and exposed a whole new batch of roaches,” she muttered with another shiver.

Dom tapped the brakes as he turned onto the road that would lead to Lia’s house. “Unfortunately, we still have no idea which roach has been stalking you.”

He was right, Bailey acknowledged with a flare of frustration. No matter how much information they uncovered, they were no closer to finding the truth. Still, they had answered a few nagging questions.

“We at least know where the pictures inside Kaden’s house came from,” she reminded him.

“True. Either Kevin Hartford sent the pictures himself or he was involved with whoever did.”

“That might explain why they killed him,” she suggested. “They might have been afraid he would expose who he’d given the picture to. A drug addict isn’t the most reliable partner.”

Dom nodded. “Possibly.”