“I do.”
“I’m so relieved!” She ushered them to a seating area in her office. The brothers chose the sofa. She chose one of the chairs.
Jeremiah recalled enough about Gigi to know that he’d viewed things as casual between them. Even so, he’d slept with her. So Gigi couldn’t be blamed for introducing herself to him and Remy as his girlfriend.
Why had he slept with her?
He’d done it because his life had been flat and gray after the end of his marriage and his racing. He’d been trying to interrupt the gray with anything that provided even minutes of light or heat.
Still, he shouldn’t have slept with her. Doing so hadn’t been kind to Gigi because it had led her on. And it hadn’t been true to himself because he hadn’t liked her all that much.
“I’m glad you stopped in.” Gigi crossed her legs and stacked her palms on her upper knee. “Were you in the area?”
“We drove down to see you,” Jude answered, “because we know that you changed your appearance to resemble Alexis and that your first meeting with Jeremiah was no coincidence.” His brother had gotten right to the point, calmly pulling the pin from the grenade.
The excitement in Gigi’s face melted, leaving only alarm and concern. “I beg your pardon?” she whispered.
“Did you follow Alexis on Instagram?” Jude asked.
Her eyes had the look of a fox being chased in a foxhunt. “Yes.”
“And so you knew all about her husband, Jeremiah, and, later, all about her death?”
“I did. Yes.”
“I’m an agent with the FBI. Just so we’re clear, I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here as a brother. But I’ll give you an insight I’ve learned with the FBI. In my experience it always goes more smoothly for subjects when they tell the full truth from the start.”
“Okay.”
“Can you tell us the truth about why you arranged to meet Jeremiah?”
“Sure, I . . .” She rolled her lips inward and bit down. “Well. Like so many of Alexis’s followers, I was devastated when she died. I felt as if I knew her.” Her gaze slid to Jeremiah. “And you. It was awful.”
Jeremiah felt obligated to fill the pause that followed. “Yeah, it was awful.”
“Months passed,” she said, “and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I knew you lived close by, and I really cared about you. I . . . wanted to find out how you were doing.”
“And also wanted to date him?” Jude asked.
“I mean, sure. That was my biggest dream.”
“So you changed your look,” Jude said, “into what you hoped would attract him?”
She blushed. “Mostly, I changed my look because I was in the mood for something new. But a small part of me . . .” She appeared to lose her nerve.
“The full truth,” Jude prompted quietly.
“A small part of medidthink that a style update might help me catch your eye,” she admitted to Jeremiah.
“How did you arrange to meet him?” Jude asked.
“People I know here in Portland had posted photos of you at the Blyth and Burrows bar on social media. You clearly liked that spot, so I started hanging out there, too. Not every night,” she rushed to add. “Just from time to time. When you finally walked in one night, I was thrilled. Starstruck. So happy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew who I was and had come there to meet me?” Jeremiah asked.
“I thought that might have made me seem . . . desperate or suspicious.”
“I would have felt less suspicious then than I feel now,” Jeremiah said.
