“I told you he was the right man for the job, Alex.”
I wanted to tell him he should be more worried about anyone who dared try to cross her, but I refrained.
Poking the bear wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.
“I’ll find her, Mr. Prince.” And when I did, she would learn her behavior wasn’t acceptable.
* * *
I’d learned a long time ago that people weren’t as clever as they believed themselves to be. They always left clues about where they’d gone or where they’d been. From matchbooks to cocktail napkins, bottles of wine to cigarette butts, they could be found. In the case of the lovely yet mischievous Emmeline, her attempt at hiding her second persona was likely going to be more difficult for me to find, but I would.
How many times had I hunted before? In truth, my skills were akin to being a mercenary, utilized several times by the Prince family.
I stood inside Emmeline’s house, drinking in the atmosphere. While I’d been in her home before, a lovely three-story she’d painstakingly renovated to her classic eclectic style, I’d never been past the living room and kitchen. This time, I headed into her bedroom first. She hadn’t been in a hurry leaving, which meant nothing had scared her.
That also meant she’d planned this. Now my guess was she just needed some space, perhaps unknowing that I’d been attacked. When there was one attempt made, there were usually more, which was why the family was so concerned.
Emmeline was a fascinating woman, including her choice of literature. There was everything from a few classics to romance novels, a couple of travel books and several thrillers; the one that captured my attention was on voodoo and hoodoo. She’d spentsome time telling me about the difference, including use of gris-gris in casting spells.
There were a few others sprinkled in, all relating to conjuring or witchcraft. While she’d never seemed particularly religious, her belief in the art of dark magic likely terrified most men who dared entire her home. A slight chuckle left my throat. To say she was a handful was far too mild of a term.
I went through her things, confirming she’d planned the escape. There was no obvious choice of clothing, whether cold or warm weather. Besides, if she was smart, she’d purchase an entirely new wardrobe wherever she’d gone.
She’d left her laptop on her desk. And as suspected, there was a long passcode to get into it. I hoped I could find it somewhere in her desk. I didn’t. But I kept looking, searching through every drawer and piece of furniture.
I even checked the kitchen cabinets.
Finding absolutely nothing including bank statements or other financial information, I sat down on her couch. There were no hidden compartments inside, nothing but a few boxes of Christmas ornaments in the attic.
The woman had been damn good with her getaway.
In the quiet, I took my time enjoying her art and the stunning modern lighting fixtures. Then it finally came to me that she had an attached apartment downstairs. I’d forgotten all about that. Anastasia had stayed in the location for a few weeks after moving to New Orleans. What were the odds Emmeline had hidden a few personal items somewhere in the small space?
Why not check to see if I was right?
While there was a separate entrance for the location, given she currently didn’t have a tenant, the door between the units was unlocked.
There was some furniture but little else, which made it easy to go through everything.
When I was standing in the luxurious bathroom, staring into the mirror, an odd piece of molding captured my attention. With a laugh I turned around, studying it for a few seconds.
She had been in a hurry when she’d last been inside the hidden compartment.
A single twist of the molding, a push in the panel, and I opened a safe space. The location was cleverly designed; unless you knew what you were looking for, you’d never locate the hidden compartment.
Inside were financials. With a quick look through them, I realized I’d underestimated the girl. She was worth even more money than I’d expected. While the discovery was interesting, the money trail meant nothing at this point. I was searching for a single thing.
While there was a fifty-fifty chance I’d find what I was looking for, when I did, I felt somewhat vindicated.
A grin lingered on my face as I returned to her office, sitting down at her computer. The passcode worked perfectly, allowing me into aspects of her private life. I knew exactly what I was looking for, finding her passwords for every social media account, even though she’d tried to hide them from the rest of the world.
Given the girl was brilliantly manipulative, when I confirmed she’d wiped her search history, I grinned like a kid. One of the computer experts could be brought in and he’d find out the last searches made within minutes.
But this was so much more fun, like putting together pieces of a delicious little puzzle. Not long after beginning my search, I realized there were so many things I didn’t know about her. I even had access to her Kindle library, which highlighted her various tastes in literature.
Including dark romances.
Stalker romances.
