Finn focused her attention on Trey. “I meant to ask…how did your interview with Nick go?”
Trey considered. “Very well. I think.”
“Did he do it?”
“Do what?”
“Kill his wife. That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”
Trey looked startled at her bluntness. “Well…yes. But no, I don’t think he did it.”
“And the alleged shooting?”
“I believe him on that as well.”
She leaned back in the seat, assessing him. “When I got here, Nick said he’d called you. He said you went to the house today, and then intercepted a stalker, and then he showed me a business card that had your name and number on it. I assume you gave that of your own free will?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized he was correct. He was a target. And I wanted to help.”
She tilted her head in a fetching manner. “Do you still?”
Trey got this wary look, like Finn had been digging through his diary. “What do you mean?”
“There will be a press party Friday night on location in Adairsville—the usual gossip mag writers, plus people with money to invest who want to feel Hollywood-important. Nick wants to be there, Addison too. Now I know I can’t ask for you officially. Marisa would never go for it. But if you’re free, I’d love to have you onsite this weekend. So would Nick.”
Trey went a shade paler. “I don’t…I mean, that’s…”
“Nothing official. Just keeping watch behind the scenes, like my own private Wizard of Oz. And, of course, Tai would be there too. Just as unofficially.” She favored me with a knowing smile. “Which she’s very good at.”
Trey was not saying yes, even though he wanted to, very much. Investigating on his own was one thing. Investigating at Finn’s behest quite another.
“What would you need from me?” he said.
“Information. Presence. Insight.” Finn smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I can hire close protection and security consultants out the wazoo, but you’ve got an insider perspective none of them can match.”
She did know, I decided. All the complications of the case. Why it would be irresistible for Trey and invaluable for her. Trey sensed the deeper machinations too, though he couldn’t quite pin them down.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“Good to hear.” She moved to get out of the car, fixed me with a look. “About Martinez…what did you do with his phone?”
I sighed inwardly. Oh well, I thought. Time to be a team player.
“It’s back at my shop.”
Annoyance flitted over her features. “Under lock and key, I hope?”
“Trey designed the shop’s security plan. There isn’t a more secure lock and key in the metro area.”
“Good. Keep it safe tonight. I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”
She exited the car, smoothed her skirt. Her blouse remained unwrinkled, her pantyhose unmarred by even a single run. Tonight she was corporate professional. Who knew who she’d be tomorrow? Only one thing was certain.
I’d be seeing her.
Trey gazed out the window all the way back to Kennesaw, letting the passing street lights and thrum of tires on pavement soothe him. Exhaustion had finally set in—I could see it in the set of his mouth, the bleariness in his eyes. He still sparked, though. Tiredness hadn’t tamped that down.
I swung out to pass a puttering panel van. “You are going to be in a heap of trouble if Marisa finds out.”
“Technically—”
“Marisa won’t give a hot lick about technicalities. Your ass will be grass.”
Trey’s hands rested in his lap. “If she finds out.”
“She’s the freaking CEO of a corporate security firm. Of course she’s going to find out. And then she’s going to ask you, point blank, what the hell you’re up to.”
“And then I’ll tell her.”
“And then?”
“She will most likely get very angry. But I’m accustomed to that now.” He turned to face me. “I understand this isn’t a rational decision. But over the past year, I’ve grown more comfortable making emotional decisions that don’t, on the surface, seem logical.”
Like being with me, he didn’t say. He didn’t need to. I remembered the Trey I’d met a year and a half ago. The clipped responses, the hesitation, the thick and impenetrable wall around his emotional castle. For reasons I still didn’t understand, he’d lowered the drawbridge and let me come galloping in.
“How are you going to do this without involving the police?”
That one flummoxed him. He had to think really hard. “If those are the parameters Finn needs, I can comply. I understand rules.”
“Yes, but you’re allowing Finn’s rules, and the Talbots’ rules, to override your rules.”
“No, I’m not. I’m simply choosing between two conflicting protocols.”
I didn’t bother arguing with him. Trey had some blind spots, but he knew his own tricks as adeptly as any magician pulling rabbits out of a hat. He could keep one foot in reality and one in illusion and not lose his balance. He was doing it again, rewriting his own operating manual.
“Chances are good somebody tried to poison Nick Talbot,” I said.
“Overdose him.”
“Same difference. It’s a matter for the police.”
“I agree. And if there was an overdose, and if it was intentional and not accidental, then combined with the attempted shooting, it would provide enough anecdotal evidence to open an investigation. Without lab results, however, the evidence remains circumstantial.” He frowned. “There is another problem with involving the authorities, however.”
“And that is?”
“I spent my free time today reviewing the files, including the transcripts from Nick’s interrogation. I compared them to my own notes, cross-referenced those with the OPS files.” His frown deepened. “Nick invoked counsel, but the interrogator convinced him to resume questioning without legal consultation.”
“But that’s not legal.”
“It is, as long as the continued questioning is approved by the suspect.”
“Nick agreed?”
“He did. He was under duress, however. I recognized the symptoms. He was contradicting himself. Repeating questions. He became agitated. Belligerent.”
I recognized those symptoms too. In Trey’s case, exhaustion or mental stress usually brought it on. In Nick’s? He’d lost his wife only to
