piece of paper. “Why, what’s she done?”
“Earlier this afternoon, Tai discovered a key logger on my computer. We suspect Gabriella might have some information about it.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “Really? Whoa.”
I sensed it then, the shift. Steve was suddenly nervous. I wasn’t an expert in micro-emotive readings, but I knew “technically true but deliberately evasive” when I saw it.
“He knows something,” I said.
“I know,” Trey replied. He took a step closer to the captain’s chair.
Steve panicked. “Dude, I wasn’t, I mean, I didn’t…” He drew himself up. To his credit, he was a lot cooler than I would have been. At that moment, Trey radiated more menace than a snake-bit pit bull.
“Landon’s orders,” Steve finally said.
“What was?”
“The key logger. I installed it before the computer was even assigned to you. And then Landon assigned me to your cases, so I could report back to him if you were acting weird—which you were, always.”
“Why?”
“How should I know? I don’t ask questions, I just follow orders. Isn’t that what you do too?”
The piss and vinegar was coming back once he decided that Trey wasn’t going to strangle him. To me, it wasn’t a smart bet, but Steve kept talking.
“Landon doesn’t like you, and he doesn’t trust you. But you already know that, so why harass me? Take it up with him.”
He was talking too loudly, nervous again. But Trey was done. He pushed past me, heaved open the bulkhead door and disappeared. I tried to follow, but the step-down was impossible. I took off the heels and eased down backwards, cursing to myself.
“This is why I don’t wear dresses,” I muttered.
Trey waited for me, looking like someone had sprung his compass. I sympathized. Not only was his mistress a thief, his employer was spying on him. If I’d gotten a one-two like that, I’d have been standing bewildered on the asphalt too.
“It makes no sense,” he said. “All Landon had to do was ask me to turn over the computer. It’s Phoenix property. He has full access.”
“He didn’t want you to know about it.”
“Why not?”
Trey was honestly confused. Like Gabriella, Landon was behaving illogically, and Trey couldn’t formulate a motive beyond logical progression.
“He thought you were up to something,” I explained, “and this was his way of catching you unaware.”
“What would I be up to?”
“I don’t know, Trey. I told you, these are some snaky people.”
“You never said that.”
“Well, I should have.”
I was annoyed at myself. I’d been blinded by the assumption that Gabriella had been guilty of both misdeeds. Just like Trey, I’d only followed the one path. He needed me to do better than that.
“We need to find Landon,” I said.
“Why?”
“I want to hear what he has to say about this. And I want you to tell me if it’s the truth.”
This wasn’t what I had planned. But thinking Trey’s way did have a certain logic. Start with the evidence you have, and see where it goes next. And right now the evidence showed that Landon was even more of an unscrupulous bastard than I’d thought he was.
I slipped my shoes back on, adjusted my purse strap. “Come on, Mr. Seaver. We’ve got a suspect to question.”
Chapter 45
Down by the lake, we moved through tables scattered like seed pearls all over the sloping lawn. The wait-staff glided around silver platters filled with itty-bitty ham biscuits while the elite mingled and laughed and ignored the food. The alcohol flowed, however, and each couple trailed a handsome black-suited man wearing shades and an earpiece—a faux bodyguard, included in the ticket price. I was surprised they hadn’t hired fake paparazzi.
I scanned the crowd. No Gabriella, and no Beaumonts either. I saw my brother at the bar, however. He raised his glass at me, a puzzled look on his face. I’d been hoping to escape his attention. Luckily he was busy with extremely important people. He stayed in his circle, and I stayed in mine.
I nudged Trey’s shoulder. “There’s Landon.”
He stood separate from the crowd, a lone figure by the star-spangled dais, wearing a dark gray tuxedo that made him look almost handsome. As we approached, he shook his head. “You brought a date to work? How unlike you.”
“There’s no rule against it,” Trey replied.
He glanced at my purse knowingly. “Remind me to make one.”
Just then the buzz of conversation cranked up a notch—the Beaumonts had arrived, walking up the path from their cabin, arm in arm. The mass of well-wishers parted for them, pressing close at times, but always separate.
“I talked to Simpson,” Trey