She went cold. But he was not paying any attention.
“Here we go.” He snapped off the cover of the camera, revealing the small control panel inside the handle. “Well now, isn’t this interesting.”
The mirror suddenly blinked on and became a video screen.
A thrill of anticipation sparked across Alice’s nerves. She put aside Owen’s disturbing comment about why he had found her case so interesting and hurried across the room to the table.
“You unlocked it,” she said. “Nice work.”
“It wasn’t complicated. Looks like there’s only one video. Ready to watch?”
“Yes.” She grabbed the other chair and sat down beside him.
Sebastian vaulted off the windowsill, fluttered across the room, and hopped up onto the table. He watched with keen attention as Owen rezzed the video.
The image of a familiar-looking hotel room appeared.
“I think that’s Room 205,” she whispered.
“It’s a hotel,” Owen said. He did not take his eyes off the screen. “Most of the rooms probably look alike.”
The audio was on but the only sound was the faint hiss of the jets that were filling the space with a yellow, fog-like vapor. The mist seethed, blurring the scene, but it was possible to make out the fully clothed figureof a woman on the bed. She was on top of the quilt, curled on her side, her back to the camera. Her face was turned away and mostly obscured by a heavy veil of long brown hair. Her arm was flung out to the side, the fingers clenched into the quilt in what appeared to be a desperate attempt to push herself up off the bed. A gold wedding ring gleamed on one finger.
The jolt of horror and disbelief was so fierce that for a moment Alice could not breathe. She could not move. She stared at the screen, trying to process what she was seeing.
Sensing her stunned reaction, Sebastian bustled closer and jumped down onto her lap. She hugged him, seeking comfort.
Owen studied the screen and looked at Alice, ice in his eyes. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Ten
“I don’t understand,” Alice whispered.“This video must have been shot on my wedding night.”
Owen rezzed pause to stop the video. Her stricken expression made him feel simultaneously helpless and enraged. There was nothing he could do to save the woman on the bed from three months in a psychiatric hospital and seven more months of living in fear.
But now the time for vengeance had come. He had to stay focused on getting Kelbrook out of her life. That meant applying logic, not emotion, to the problem.
“We take this one step at a time,” he said. “It could be a fake.”
She clutched Sebastian with her right hand and gestured at the screen with her left. “The date stamp is from ten months ago, the date of the wedding.”
“That, too, could be a fake,” he said.
The new gold wedding band on her hand caught the light. An hourago he had put that ring on her finger. She had been reluctant but he had persuaded her that it was necessary. Yes, theirs was a Marriage of Convenience—emphasis onconvenience—but nevertheless, they needed to send a clear message to Kelbrook. The ring helped reinforce that message.
His logic was solid. There was a good reason for her to wear the ring. But now he was aware that just the sight of the ancient symbol of marriage on her hand gave him an absurdly possessive, protective rush of satisfaction. The woman he had spent the last two weeks searching for was his wife.
Ruthlessly, he suppressed the urge to take her into his arms and attempt to comfort her. He told himself she would not welcome such a move. As far as she was concerned, they were practically strangers. The smart, efficient thing to do was to keep moving forward.Focus, March.
“Are you ready to watch the rest of the video?” he asked.
She blinked, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her chin. The energy of her determination charged the atmosphere. “Yes. But what if we can’t tell if it’s real or fake?”
“I know someone who can answer that question for us, if we decide it’s necessary.”
She gave him a shaky smile. “The benefits of occasionally consulting for the FBPI?”
