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“We’ll see,” Ainsley replied, not appearing convinced. “Actually, I think it would be better if I just went. We want to try and keep this small, quiet and contained. Since I work with these people, I’m the best candidate. I promise to fill everyone in as soon as I know anything.”

Ace looked like he wanted to argue, but he clearly thought better of it.

“Now shoo.” Ainsley returned her attention to her book. “I’ve got a lot of ground to cover in a short period of time.”

* * *

Fiona and Sierra followed the two men down a long hall, up a flight of stairs and into another part of the house. She couldn’t help but admire the way the decor and furniture worked together and looked both elegant and comfortable.

Her heart ached for this family. They’d been through so much already, and now this. So many people erroneously believed the simple act of being wealthy ensured an easy life. In Fiona’s opinion, great wealth seemed to bring even greater challenges.

Ace paused at a closed door, turning to face the rest of them. “No one is usually allowed in here,” he said. “Dad keeps this room as sort of Tessa’s shrine.”

Jake glanced over his shoulder at Fiona, who shrugged. “Maybe this isn’t the right time,” Jake said, looking as if he wished he were anywhere else but there.

“It’s the perfect time,” Ace responded. “Honestly, I think Dad would want me to show you this. We’ll let Ainsley do her thing, clear our heads and go back to brainstorming in a little while.”

“I thought you and Sierra had plans.” Jake tried again. Fiona wasn’t sure why he appeared to be so hesitant.

“We canceled them.” Ace raised a brow. “Do you not want to learn about Tessa? Sorry, it never occurred to me to ask first.”

Fiona moved to Jake’s side and took his arm, offering her silent support.

“Naturally, I want to learn about my birth mother.” Jake’s tone was wry. “Actually, I ache for it, with every fiber of my being. But my birth father has been arrested, might be charged with murder and has been hauled off to jail after recently awakening from a coma and being released from the hospital.” He shook his head. “Honestly, Ace. After reading up on everything on the internet, I found himself wondering if the Colton family had been cursed.”

Ace’s mouth twisted. “I hear you. If not cursed, we’ve certainly had a rather spectacular run of bad luck.” He eyed Jake. “Say the word. If you don’t want to do this right now, we won’t.”

Fiona found herself holding her breath. She caught Sierra watching Jake, too, a similar look of anticipation on her face.

Jake turned and caught Fiona watching him. “Let’s check it out. I think we could all use a small distraction right now.”

Small distraction? Either way, Fiona breathed a sigh of relief. Personally, she thought Ace was right. If they all sat around wringing their hands and bemoaning Payne’s fate, they’d have trouble thinking up any kind of solution.

Ace turned the knob and opened the door. He flipped the light switch, and they all stepped inside.

It wasn’t a bedroom, as Jake had expected. Instead, the room appeared to be some sort of studio, with photographs rather than paintings.

There were trays of negatives, labeled by date, and a neat row of photo albums stood on one long shelf. Her favorite prints had been blown up and hung on the wall, the subjects ranging from landscapes to people and animals. They were all good, some spectacularly so. One or two made Jake catch his breath.

“She really was talented,” Fiona breathed, catching at Jake’s arm. “I’m surprised she didn’t have a career as a professional photographer.”

“Remember, some of these were taken over thirty-five years ago,” Ace interjected. “Think about how different things were when we were kids. Since there are two entire photo albums filled with baby pictures of me, Ainsley and Grayson, I’d venture a guess that most of these pictures are at least thirty-six years old, many older.”

Jake stood frozen, taking it all in. Still holding his arm, Fiona moved them forward. “Look,” she said, pointing. A couple of vintage cameras sat in a glass-fronted cabinet. She spied a Pentax, a Nikon and even an ancient Polaroid.

“Back when everyone used actual film,” Ace said. “Since photographers often have to take tons of shots to get one good one, I imagine she burned through a lot of film.” He pulled open a drawer. “See. Here’s a bunch she hadn’t developed yet.”

“Interesting.” Jake came closer. “Did she have her own darkroom?”

“Yep. In the closet.” Ace walked across the room and opened the door. “We were all too young to remember, but I’m betting this entire area was off-limits to us kids.”

Fiona hung back, letting Jake set the pace. She could only imagine how he must feel, seeing his real mother’s art—an expression of herself—for the first time.

As Jake picked up one of the albums and began leafing through it, Ace’s phone chimed. “It’s Ainsley,” he said. “She’d like us all back downstairs right now.”

With what could have been a sigh of relief, Jake placed the photo album back on the shelf. They all filed out, Ace carefully closing the door behind them.

Ainsley waited, tapping her foot impatiently, making a drumming sound with the heel of her shoe. “One of my collea

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