Page 103 of XO Karma

“I have no interest in returning,” I spout, unwilling to call it home. “And I can assure you, every digit in my bank account has been placed there by me, and me alone.”

“So you’re telling me a C-list journalist makes enough to buy one of these?” She gestures to the room full of sparkling skeletons. A beat passes between us, a knowing smile crossing her lips that makes me nervous. “Or perhaps you’ve been more involved in your father’s other business doings than you care to admit?” My heart pounds. How the hell does she know these things?

“Do you interrogate all your interested buyers?”

“Only the ones that make me curious,” she states, catching me by surprise, leaning into my ear. “Maybe we should go somewhere quiet for you to ease that curiosity.”

Is she… hitting on me? Normally I would lean into this. Use this to my advantage. But Lily and I are supposed to be on a date. I can’t flirt with another woman, can I?

Even if it’s for the sake of the mission?

“Have I short-circuited your brain, darling?” she asks, pulling away from my ear with a grin.

“Just caught me by surprise.” I clear my throat. “And what’s with Jude?”

She waves a hand. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

No, but it could hurt me.

“Mrs. Westerford,” someone calls from across the room, and I teeter on impending relief from this conversation.

She holds up a finger to them, leaning near my ear. “Well, if you did care to utilize those talents anytime soon, we could have a position for you.”

“I’m not sure what you think you know.” My fists clench at my sides. “But whatever it is, you’re wrong.”

Isla narrows her eyes, not believing my lies. “Hmm.” She taps my cheek twice. “Such a waste.” She shakes her head, and then she’s gone without another word.

32

LILY

“I wonder how hard it is to get a bloodstain out of a Persian rug.”

The words echo in my mind as I wander the halls of the Westerford estate. Guilt buzzes under my skin for ditching Aster on our first official date, if you can even call it that, but I needed an excuse to investigate the tip from the anonymous caller without him asking too many questions.

Blood on a Persian rug…

The realization slams into me, and I freeze beside a painting likely worth more than my house. I am an absolute idiot. Karolyn Heinzel died on a Persian rug in some kind of study. Possibly Jude’s office?

My only recollection on how to get there is from the service corridors. Where would it be from this side of the house, and how can I get in there without drawing suspicion?

Mentally, I map out the estate. If I was entering the room from the opposite side, that would put me somewhere off the ballroom. The house is filled with guests in gowns and masks, making it easy to blend in as I search the halls. Turning a corner, I freeze, finding Jude in discussions with another man I don’t recognize. Maybe I could get him to bring me there himself.

Heading towards them, I pose a smile on my face. Jude spots me, and a pleased expression crosses his features. “Well, hello, Lillian.”

Wow, mask. Thank you very much for the disguise.

“Jude,” I say, then give a curt nod to the other man.

“We’ll catch up later,” Jude tells him, and the man walks off. “Are you enjoying the party?” Jude asks me.

“Yes, of course. I was just”—I glance around—“looking for the restroom.”

“You can use the private one in my study.” He turns, and I trail after him. Jackpot.

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.”

With a key, he unlocks the door and brings us inside. How the hell can I search the place with him at my back? My eyes dart around the room. The familiar bookcases confirm it’s definitely the one where Karolyn Heinzel was murdered. I glance at the floor. But there’s no longer a carpet. Apparently the answer to my anonymous caller’s question is, “It’s easier to dispose of the rug than try to get the blood out.”