Blue scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his gaze locked on her. Expecting her to balk at the thought of him alone with the girl? Evie hadn’t lied. She trusted him. His honor wasn’t readily apparent at first glance, but it was there.
“All right,” he finally said. “But if she doesn’t attend, I’m going in after the party.”
Where was his earlier confidence that Tiffany wouldn’t miss out on a date with him? “Deal.” And meanwhile Evie would go after Tyson Star with everything she had—charm, drugs, whatever was necessary—and try to get her own invitation. If he was holding John, he would suffer and beg for death before she finally ended him.
By the time this was over, all of the Stars would be dead.
No mercy.
“Remember Tyrese Cooper?” Michael said, switching gears. “I finally got him to detox. He’s married, but he was keeping a mistress on the side. The mistress got pregnant and he served the wife with divorce papers. A few weeks later, the mistress came up missing. Then, a few days ago, pictures were sent to Mr. Cooper. In them, the mistress was in bed with different men. A lot of different men. To the untrained eye, she probably looked like she was enjoying herself, but there were signs she had been drugged and bound.”
Possibly an abduction. Then . . . punishment? For her? Or Mr. Cooper? Or, hell, both?
“That’s unconscionable,” Vika said, her chin trembling.
The symbol of revenge . . . Had Mr. Cooper’s wife arranged for the mistress to be hurt and the husband to bear witness? She was the only one with motive. But if so, she must have paid Star to take care of the revenge for her. That was the only reason Evie could think of for the male’s involvement.
It was possible Star had been paid to take care of every victim. Even Michael.
“What do you know about the wife?” Blue asked.
“Only that I want one of you to chat with her when we finish up here.”
“I’ll do it,” Solo said. “Fear makes people talk, and females tend to fear me.”
“I think it’s safe to say Star is in the revenge-getting business.” Michael drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Considering we were looking at seventeen victims before the explosion, we’re now dealing with seventeen accomplices. Someone the victims knew must have contacted Star and paid him to do their dirty work.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Evie said. Great minds and all that.
Patting yourself on the back again? Ugh.
“All seventeen have managed to keep the dealings a secret,” Solo pointed out. “No one’s bragged. Do you know how rare that is?”
Yes, she mentally grumbled. But a little vanity wasn’t such a terrible thing—when it was deserved.
“Probably out of terror,” Blue replied. “They’ve seen what Star can do and don’t want the same fate to befall them.”
Evie jumped in, saying, “Plus they don’t want to implicate themselves in a crime.”
Blue smiled at her.
She smiled back.
Michael sucked in a breath, and they looked away from each other.
“So, who wanted you dead?” Blue asked her father. “Who would pay big bucks to have you killed?”
Michael didn’t have to think it over. “We know Monica Gains, my former assistant, worked with Star, and I can only guess it’s because she told me one of her kids was mine. I insisted on a DNA test. When she refused, I gave her the option of quitting or being fired. She quit.”
“Wait. How many people have you slept with?” Evie asked. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to barf up my smoothie. If she quit, she no longer had access to your home. How did she set the bomb?”
“She was a familiar face, and I made the mistake of telling no one about her lies. My new assistant would have let her in without thinking twice.”
Everything was beginning to come together. A woman looking for fast cash who’d once had access to the files Michael kept on the criminals he pursued. A woman who would have known just how to tempt a man like Gregory Star. A woman looking to hurt the man who’d rejected her.
“Well,” Evie said. “What’s our next move? Do we try to finesse information out of the Star children as planned?”
“Yes. But we take it to the next level. We inject them both with isotope trackers,” Blue said. “That way we’ll know where they go, when they go. Maybe they’ll lead us straight to John.”
Okay. That was a seriously genius move. Embarrassed I didn’t think of it myself. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” The answer hit her in an instant. It wasn’t standard procedure, and it was highly illegal.
But they weren’t playing by the rules, were they.
“Never mind,” she muttered.
Once in the bloodstream, the isotope would send out a traceable signal for the next six months. All that was needed was a computer and the right code.
Michael wanted to inject Evie when she first came to work for him, but she refused. Criminals could hack into the tracking stream and find her at any time. No, thanks.
“It’ll take me a few hours to get the vials,” Michael said.
“The party starts in a few hours,” Evie reminded him. “Can you do better?”
“You don’t rush quality tracers, princess. Besides, I don’t mind being fashionably late,” Blue said, his gaze once again locked on her, making her shiver. “After all, the party won’t really start until I get there. I’m the belle of the ball.”
I guess that makes me Prince Charming.
Twenty
EVIE STOOD AT THE entrance to the Star Light Hotel roof, greeting guests as they arrived for the party. Behind her, the moon was high and golden, a million stars twinkling from a sea of black velvet. There was no wind, the temperature warm and perfect.
Mother Nature hadn’t wanted to ruin Blue’s big night, she supposed.
Also behind her, past a half wall of mirrors, was a summer oasis. A large swimming pool in the shape of the number eight consumed half the space. Palm trees stretched toward the sky. A buffet table piled high with rare delicacies drew the biggest crowd.
Evie wore a glittery silver sundress with a black bathing suit underneath. Five-inch hooker heels took her from maybe-I’ll-take-a-dip to I’m-already-soaking. Most of the invited guests had already arrived. The team, their families and friends. Season ticket holders.
Blue wasn’t here. Did he have the tracers?
Tyson and Tiffany Star hadn’t arrived, either.