“Sure.” Grant passed me back the laptop, and I peered at the image.
It’shim, I know it.
His hair was red, and he had a hipster beard and a lumberjack shirt, and his eyes were a different color, but it washim. I’d recognize that face anywhere now.
Rage coursed through me, molten lava in my veins. I was so shocked and livid, I barely noticed Grant was still talking. “—picture was taken at our leadership summit two years ago. Every year we bring the best and brightest future leaders in the company on an exclusive all-expenses-paid trip. We spend the week hanging out at a luxury resort, doing leadership training and cool activities. Only exceptional performers are invited. I’m sure you’ll be a shoo-in for this year’s event.”
Two years ago.
I swallowed. This photograph changedeverything. “Who’s that man?” I jabbed my finger at the man’s face.
“Oh, Clarence? He’s from our Paris office. A bit of a stick-in-the-mud, more interested in crossword puzzles than prostitutes and blow—” Grant coughed to cover what he was going to say. “Yes, well, these retreats can get pretty wild, but we do try to keep the worst stuff off social media for the reputation of the company. But this guy doesn’t even use social media. I’m telling you, he’s a freak. I had to threaten his job just to get him to pose in this pic.”
“How long has Clarence been employed at your firm?”
“I’m not sure if he’s still around. He blends into the background a bit, and we tend to turn people over quite quickly.”
“This might sound weird, but can I have a copy of this? I want to put it on my vision board as something to aspire to.”
Bat, bat, bat.My eyelashes had never had such a workout.
“My pleasure. Let me run one off for you.” Grant tapped a couple of keys, then stood up. “The printer is in the other room. Would you like a top-up of coffee while I’m out there?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Grant left, pushing the frosted glass door shut behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut I spun his computer toward me and flicked to his email client. Searching Kate’s name didn’t land a single result, which made no sense if she was his lead developer. Then I noticed a chat notification pop up in the corner.
Of course, a super techie office like this would be too cool for email. I clicked on the chat and found a long string of private conversations between Kate and Grant. I didn’t have time to read them, so I emailed them to Morrie’s secret cloud account to look at later. I closed the screen and slid the computer back just as Grant came back in with coffee and my photograph.
“Thank you so much for this.” I slid the photograph into my satchel and stood up. “I’d love to stay for coffee and chat more about being, um, iterating and executing and pivoting and your truly impressive beard, but I actually forgot I have… another interview to get to, for this startup called ReWined – have you heard of it? It’s an app where you can share opened bottles of wine you don’t like with other people who’ve also opened a bottle they don’t like. But you’ve beensowonderful, and I’m excited to be invited to apply for this job.”
I raced out of the building before Grant could find some other excuse to touch me again. Quoth leaned against a telephone pole, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his eyes fixed on the sky. In the greyness of London’s narrow streets, Quoth stood out – radiant and luminous, his hair a shimmering waterfall of shadow. Oscar sat demurely at his feet, looking like the picture of obedience and canine perfection. No wonder a woman walking past got so distracted perving at them both that she tripped over the curb.
I threw myself into Quoth’s arms. His lips touched mine, washing away Grant’s disgusting touch. I shuddered against Quoth as the ghost of Grant’s clammy fingers still circled my thigh.
“That man was gross.” I buried my face in Quoth’s shoulder, drinking in the fresh scent of him. Oscar jumped up, wanting to be part of the hug, too, so I wrapped my arm around him as well.
Quoth’s eyes traveled down my body, taking in the ridiculous outfit. The edges of his dark orbs flared with orange fire. “You look amazing.”
He shifted a little, so I felt his erection against my thigh. My mind flashed back to the first time I came to London with Morrie and Quoth, to investigate the fashion designer Holly Santiago who we believed killed my ex-best friend Ashley. Morrie dragged me into an alley and stuck his hand under my leggings. Quoth watched from the confines of his birdcage as Morrie drove me wild with his fingers and his filthy, vicious tongue.
A warm blush crept across my cheeks at the memory. Quoth must’ve been thinking about that day, too, because his fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me into a deep, toe-curling kiss.
“I’m glad I’m not stuck in a cage this time.” He pulled me against him, and I swooned a little. I wasn’t usually big into PDA, but that was before I had a Quoth in my life to hug in the street. “Oscar and I enjoyed the park. He tried to chase a squirrel, but I distracted him with some treats. He seems to like me and is not at all interested in eating me alive. Was your outfit at least a success?”
“You have no idea. I managed to copy over Grant’s chat history with Kate. When we get home we can go through it, or I’ll send it to Morrie. I’m positive something was going on with him, but just because he’s a slimy git doesn’t mean he’s a murderer. Especially when…”
“What is it, Mina?” Quoth asked.
I dug the photograph from my purse and handed it to him. “This is a picture taken at the Ticketrrr leadership summit from two years ago. Look at the second man on the left. I might not be seeing things right because of my eyes, but—”
“Shite,” Quoth whispered, his voice tight.
“Exactly.”
I glared down at the picture, knowing we had an even bigger mystery on our hands now. Why wasSherlock Holmesat the Ticketrrr leadership retreattwo years ago, and what was he hiding?
Chapter Twenty-Five
