Page 134 of No Headlines Please

Even so, I could still see the look on his face when I'd chewed him out, saying things that now seemed insane.

Plus, I'd called him an asshole.

But it couldn't have been all my fault. He'd done some genuinely suspicious things.

For starters, there was that photo of me on his phone. Walt had seen it with his own eyes, thanks to Maddox flashing it around and asking questions.

And then there was the business card.

If his name was Maddox McGuiness – which it apparently was – why on Earth was he handing out cards that introduced himself as Cal Smith?

Was he going incognito?

And why?

Even for an eccentric rich guy, this was beyond sketchy.

Here in the cabin, Walt asked, "Are you sure you don't want to rinse off?"

I blinked. "Sorry, what?"

When I looked in his direction, he pointed to my hair. "You've still got suds. You don't want to get a rash or nothin', do ya?"

No. I didn't. I should definitely head back and finish the shower I'd started. And yet, my gaze strayed once again to the TV, where an image of Sloane Hayworth filled the screen.

She was standing beside a podium in a pale blue dress, smiling toward some unseen audience. Honey-blonde hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and she looked impossibly polished, like the sort of woman who never spilled coffee or ran anywhere sudsy.

I gave Walt a weak smile. "Would you believe that Sloane's mom and my mom were sorority sisters?"

He looked surprised. "No kidding? So they're friends, huh?"

I almost laughed. "I wouldn't go that far."

At best, they were frenemies from ages ago. All my life, I'd had to listen while Mom compared Tessa to Sloane, saying that Tessa was ten times prettier, so why was everyone making such a big deal about – in Mom's words – the daughter of that little upstart from Beaverton.

Walt gave the TV another glance. "So, have you ever met her? Sloane, I mean?"

The idea was laughable. "Nah. Our families run in very different circles." I rolled my eyes. "You have no idea." I glanced toward the cabin door. "But you're right. I really should rinse off. Can I come back in a few minutes?"

"Sure." Walt grinned. "I think I'll make popcorn."

"But it's only mid-morning." And more to the point, I wasn't sure I liked the idea of munching on popcorn while the media debated whether Maddox McGuiness was a misunderstood billionaire or a woman's worst nightmare.

"Tell ya what," Walt said. "I'll make enough for two, just in case."

52

No Shovel

Maddox

When I opened my door, Ryder grinned. "So, you finally did her in, huh?"

Officially, Sloane was missing, not dead. But you'd never know it from the news coverage.

I'd spent the last two days hunkered down at the place I called home – a sprawling penthouse overlooking Chicago.

I hadn't been opening the door to anyone – not that anyone had knocked. That was by design, not chance. The building had a doorman and extra security for a reason.