“I think I know where these pictures came from.”
“What? They came from Courtney. We already know that.”
“No. I mean, I think I know who took them.”
“Who?”
“We did.”
Her expression morphs from confused to unsure to furious. “Excuse me?” she asks coldly.
“Go sit on the couch,” I tell her.
“No. You can’t saywetook the pictures and then just tell me to sit down,” she snaps.
“I need to test something. So go and sit on the couch,” I tell her again.
Stomping to the couch, she sits down on the very edge, glaring acidically at me. Lifting her cell into the air, I position it in front of the tiny security camera hidden in the corner of the room and snap a picture. Lowering my arm, I look at the picture, then compare it to the one Courtney sent us. The angle is the same.
“Look,” I say, holding the cell out to her, showing her the two pictures.
“What the fuck?” she whispers. “Clay said our security system was impenetrable.”
“Nothing is impenetrable. But she must have an incredibly talented hacker on her side to be able to get these.”
“So, all of the pictures are from our own security cameras? No one was in our home?” Starling asks, her voice wavering.
“All of them, apart from the golf cart, look like they’re stills from the security cameras, but I’ll have Clay take a look whenhe gets here later. Maybe he’ll have some insight into how they accessed our security system,” I tell her.
Starling can’t seem to stop glancing in the direction of the security cameras as she sits perched on the edge of the couch while we wait for our friends to arrive. By the time we’re all sat around the table, eating the huge Mexican buffet I asked Armand to cook for us, Starling is still tense.
“Clay, can you turn off the camera in this room while we eat?” I ask him.
“Of course,” Clay says, pulling his tablet from his ever-present bag and tapping at the screen. “It’s off, but is there a reason why? Are we planning to kill Courtney? Because I’m down for that, but we need to make sure that January can’t be accused, so I should arrange for her to stay at my parents’ for a few days.”
“Bunny should go too,” Hunter agrees. “Maybe you should take a trip out to visit your dad and your grandparents,” he tells his wife.
“I’m not going anywhere, so don’t even suggest it,” Sammy hisses, flashing Evan a determined glance.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. And who would even suspect a pregnant woman?” Evan says.
“We’re not planning a murder,” Starling snarls impatiently.
All eyes turn to me as I reach over and pluck Starling from her chair, pulling her into my lap.
“I had another look at the pictures Courtney sent to us, and I’m fairly sure that all of them, except for the one when we’re in the golf cart, are stills and videos taken from our securityfootage.” Opening Starling’s cell, I show them one of the original pictures Birdsflyhigh sent, then the one I took earlier.
“Holy shit, how did I not notice that earlier?” Clay growls beneath his breath.
“Is it possible for someone to hack our security system?” Starling asks Clay.
“It’s always possible, but it’s not likely. It’s a closed network connected to an on-site server. To hack it, someone would have to physically hardwire into the server room to access the data. The cameras are manned full time by our security staff so they’d have…” Clay’s words trail off as he lifts his gaze and looks at me. “It’s one of our staff. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Wait, someone we employ took pictures of Sebastian and me having sex and gave them to Courtney? That doesn’t make any sense. How would they know she knew us? We pay our staff well, don’t we? I don’t understand why they’d do that,” Starling blurts, her expression shocked and upset.
“We pay our staff incredibly well. We own the security company, and I don’t know who would do this. We haven’t fired anyone, and everyone has to consent to a full background check before we’ll employ them. We know everything about them, including what brand of underwear they prefer before we put them on the payroll,” Clay says, sounding almost as shocked as Starling.
“How did they get the picture of you getting golf cart road head then?” Sammy asks. “You said all the rest looked like they were stills from the security cameras, except for that one. What makes that one different?”
