She laid down and fought back tears.
Please find me.
Her left hand slid along her right forearm where her bracelet had been stolen. Jay would never believe she was dead unless he saw her body for himself. All she had to do was survive until he found her.
***
Jayden and Dave crept along the edges of the manicured lawns spreading out before the large manor house. It was big, white-washed, and straight out of the colonial era.
He shook his head and looked to Dave, who seemed to be counting the artfully trimmed, conical trees.
“We need to move three trees farther down. We should be able to see the small servants’ entrance then.”
Jay arched an eyebrow as they crept farther through the dense trees that ringed the estate. “Your informant was very thorough.”
Dave grinned.
“Part of my job as a salesman was always to make people feel at ease. Those women… as soon as I had accidentally let slip that I was with their favorite news station, they tripped over themselves trying to be helpful.”
Jayden frowned at the mirth in the other man’s voice. It was one thing to be happy at successfully gaining a good lead and quite another to find tricking people so pleasurable. In the next moment, he had to bite back a self-deprecating chuckle. Had he not been exactly the same? He had. Especially when he had just begun to realize that his quick mind enabled him to gain the upper hand, a natural skill he then spent years refining. Dave was clearly talented. With time, this rush of triumph would fade.
“Is that it?” he asked as they stopped again. A plain, white-wood door stood barely visible between two false columns.
“It matches her description.”
“Incidentally, how did you know which news station was their favorite?” Jay asked as they took a pause to ascertain who was in the vicinity and whether a dash from their copse to the door was feasible.
Dave flashed a set of brilliant white teeth. “I asked a few questions and took the answer from whichever angle they seemed to be coming from.”
“Clever. Wait, does that mean you spent last night reading news articles?”
Dave nodded, his green-blue eyes silently following the progress of a gardener. “I figured that was the best and quickest in.”
Jay gave him a small smile as he looked back. “You know, I am very glad we bumped into each other.”
Dave chuckled then turned back to the door. “According to my source, that leads into one of the pantries. It has two possible exits, one into the main kitchen, which I don’t recommend as we are approaching a normal lunch time, and the other to a hallway. I know how to get from there to the stairs. She said that Miranda Williams spends most of her time on the veranda accessed through the upstairs study. Do you think we should start there?”
Jay glanced at all the windows. With the sun’s glare, it was impossible to say whether or not anyone was looking out at the gardens but they had come this far. He nodded to Dave. “Let’s go. We’ll aim for that study then.”
They left their hiding spot, not running as, if anyone was watching, this would look highly suspect. Instead, they walked at a normal enough speed, heads close and down as if chatting. The scents of many spices tickled their noses as soon as they stepped inside. Jay slipped behind Dave again, giving the man the lead so that they could move without need of conversation.
They entered the hall and both straightened as if they had every right to be there. A servant, coming from the other direction, looked them over once and moved on. They made their way up the grand stairs and through the elegant corridors.
Voices sounded ahead and Jay pulled Dave to a stop. The man looked back at him in confusion, pointing at the door and mouthing the word ‘study’. Jay nodded and placed a finger to his own lips, wanting silence.
A voice he knew well enough was filled with muted anger. “You can’t scare me off. I want answers and I want them now.”
“You need to leave, Mr. Haraby,” said the other voice, feminine but authoritative.
“You avoided me all of yesterday but didn’t have the guts to throw me out. Do you not care about your boss’s life? Why refuse my help?”
Silence fell as the woman, no doubt Bridgette Carmichael, Miranda Williams’ personal assistant, gave no reply.
Jay patted Dave’s shoulder then moved ahead to take the lead. They entered the room unnoticed by the two who were facing each other over a tea table. He leaned against the mantel, getting as close as he dared as Stella’s father spoke again.
“I want everything you know and I want it now so that my man can start working on it.”
She remained silent, and Jay cleared his throat, making them both jump and spin to face him. “I’d like all that information too, unless you want their blood on your hands.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gregory Haraby and Bridgette Carmichael seemed to be sharing one mind for the first few moments following Jayden’s interruption. At last, their expressions diverged, Mr. Haraby’s face settling on a sneer of disapproval while Ms. Carmichael looked indignant.
Neither of them had so much as glanced at Dave, though the other man stood right beside him.
Jay flashed them both his usual, cocky smile. “Forgive the interruption, but my statement was not meant in jest. Time is of the essence after all.”
Bridgette Carmichael drew herself up but Jay forestalled her again.
“Don’t waste your breath trying to scare me into leaving, Ms. Carmichael. It won’t work any better than it did on Mr. Haraby here.”
She turned on Mr. Haraby. “Is this your man?”
Mr. Haraby shook
