Page 49

CHAPTER 49

Tristan

“It’s clean.” Birdie’s face lightens up. “Really?”

She’s so happy her detective hasn’t bugged her phone, and it hurts my heart. That bastard is winning her over, earning her giggles, her trust and soon her love. Call me selfish, toxic or plain fucked up, but I don’t want her to be happy with someone else.

“I’m sorry about the things I’ve said in the office. You know I trust you with my life, Tristan,” she says.

“A little heads-up next time. You scared the hell out of me, you know. To think for one moment that I won’t be here to protect you…”

She smiles at me. “I should have, but I wanted you to react genuinely in case he was listening.”

“What if he was? The things you said about the stalker and his notes, Torrance would have known everything and used it against you.”

Smirking, she saunters toward one of the benches and makes herself comfortable on it. “He couldn’t. He’d have obtained that information illegally, which makes it inadmissible in court. Without solid evidence to back his theory, which he can’t get because we’ll never let him have it, it’d have been my word against his.”

Despite my pain and frustration, I can’t help smiling back at her in admiration. She had it all planned. Calculated every step and considered every possibility. She’s so smart and beautiful and sexy and—

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

She tilts her head to the side, her hair cascading smoothly over her shoulder, and I picture her exactly like that, but her mouth is forming an O while she’s sitting naked on my lap. “Like you’re falling in love with me.”

That ship has sailed. I’m not falling. I’ve already drowned deeply and can’t be saved.

My throat bobs with a swallow as I drag my gaze away. “Here’s your phone back. I’ll…go.”

“Go where? Sit. Now that Jacob isn’t another person I should be wary of, thank God because I have my share of those, we still need to figure out who tipped the press.”

“Your phone being clean doesn’t prove anything about Torrance’s honesty. He’s not stupid to bug your phone when you have me. He knows I’ll check.” I fill her in about the ice cream lie and my doubts. “Listen, it can’t be a coincidence you and I have the same suspicions about him at the same time. He’s up to something.”

Her face darkens in a heartbeat, all the happiness and relief forgotten. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“That he gave that photo to the press, tightening the circle around you while pretending to be trustworthy so you’d seek his help and open up to him, telling him everything…or worse.”

“Worse?” Blood drains from her face. “Do you think Jacob can be Butterfly Man?”

“Lying to Marcus to incapacitate him, calling that time of the day, those flowers…”

“The flowers?”

I won’t tell her what happened in the kitchen because of them, but I’ll tell her this. “Gold and lavender are your favorite colors. He got the purple two shades too dark, but it still counts. He can’t be that lucky.”

“He said the lady at the flower shop picked them.” She muses. “You know my favorite colors?”

I have an eye for details, especially when it comes to the people I care about. “I’ve been living with you for some time. It’s my job to notice things. But don’t change the subject. Something is off about Torrance. I mean, you said it yourself when he came questioning you about Saldana. It felt as if he was there.”

“But he wouldn’t be telling me these things if he was the stalker. He’d close the case as suicide from the start like he’d planned.”

“Or he did it so you could come up with this conclusion.”

She glowers at the ground, and then she shakes her head. “No. it’s too easy. Like you said, he’s not stupid. If he were Butterfly Man, he wouldn’t choose my favorite restaurant, flower and colors on our first date. Besides, Jacob doesn’t fit the description of a stalker. Have you seen the size of him? He’s huge, hard to miss, can’t hide in plain sight or lurk in the shadows. And he’s a cop. If he wants to have me, there are other power moves he can use to get me.” She lifts her gaze to me. “But you make a legitimate argument about the press and the ice cream lie. Also…”

“Also what?”

“He said something today, a quote about me being a castle, always watched or watched over. Watched over by the bodyguards, and I thought he meant watched by Blake because the first time we met I shared my concerns about my husband always watching.”

“But he could mean the stalker or the press he knew would be here because he tipped them.”

Her fingers fumble with her phone. When I glance at the screen, she’s calling Torrance.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s only one way to find out why he lied or if he’s the one responsible for the media chaos.” She puts the call on speaker.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri —“Birdie?”

“Yes, Detective. Who else? Do you not have my number saved?” She chortles.

“I do. I just didn’t think I’d hear your voice again after my last call. I’m so glad you called.”

I roll my eyes. Burn in hell.

She puts on a flirtatious face even when he can’t see her. “What can I say? I have a big heart, and I believe in second chances, so how about that coffee? Bring it over to my place?”

“You got it. I’ll be there in forty minutes give or take.”

“Great. I’ll be waiting.” She hangs up and stands. “When he arrives, don’t let him in right away. Let’s see his reaction when he finds the reporters.”

I nod once.

Her lips purse as she casts a distant look at the beach. “By the way, my trip today was futile. There were no notes from Butterfly Man.”