Matt flips the page. His face darkens when he sees the picture. It’s not of X’s smile.
“Daniel stopped posting under that name in 2017,” I explain, “but a bunch of anonymous accounts have written creepy messages on her page from the same IP address. One of those accounts messaged just last night. ‘I spent all day ordering furniture for our house. I can’t wait for us to finally live together, my beautiful wife. X’”
“Daniel always ended his messages with an X?”
I nod. “It might just be a kiss. But I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“No,” he says flatly. “Me neither. We need to look further into him.”
Behind us, Briar’s door opens. “Matt,” she calls.
“Hm?”
“Come here.”
Matt doesn’t move. My gut twists. Something’s wrong, I can hear it in her voice. Dropping the papers, I make my way to her bedroom. The cardboard box is sitting open on her rug, and a sparkly silver dress is laid out on her bed. Briar is standing next to it, holding an envelope. I’d assume it was a note from the designer, if it weren’t for the frozen look on her face. She hands it to me wordlessly.
I shake out a photograph. It’s a blurry picture of Briar standing in just her underwear. It’s been shot through a window.
Shit.
“This is from the fitting?” I ask, trying to keep calm.
She nods. “There’s a message on the other side.” Her voice is hoarse. I flip the photograph.
The silver is pretty, but I like you best in white. X
I swear under my breath. “Carter,” I shout. “Get in here.”
“What’s going on?” Matt asks, coming in behind me.
I show him the photo. He takes one look and pulls out his phone. “Briar. Give me the designer’s number.”
“I’ll call the courier,” I say. “Find out who got it put in the package.”
We split. I dial the courier service. A female voice answers.
“Jameson’s delivery, how can I help you?”
“Hello,” I say politely. “I’d like to speak with one of your couriers, Jack Ellis, please. It’s urgent.”
“Of course, sir.” There’s a click and a fuzz of static. A teenager’s voice sounds down the line.
“Um. Hello?”
“Who tampered with the package you brought to Briar Saint’s house?” I ask. “Did someone give you something to put inside it?”
“Wh-what?” The boy stammers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not going to report you,” I say calmly. “I just need to know who gave the letter to you. Miss Saint’s security is at risk if we don’t find out.”
There’s a pause.“I don’t know anything,” his voice is muffled.
“If you tell me now, you won’t get into trouble. If you don’t tell me, and Briar ends up getting hurt, your name will be splashed on every magazine and newspaper in the damn country. I’ll see to it personally.”
There’s an even longer pause. “He was standing on the street by her security gate,” he says eventually.“Offered me five hundred quid to cut the box open and put the envelope inside.”
I lean forward. “What did he look like?”
