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“What have you found?” Marco demanded, hastily returning to his side.
“That address we checked out for you yesterday—the private detective Maxwell Steadman—look what she emailed him.”
Staring at the screen, Marco’s heart jumped.
“Fuck,” Marco grunted, staring at a photograph. “What else does she have?”
“That’s it so far, but what about Steadman?” Benny remarked. “What else does he have?”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Do you want us to pick him up?”
“Not yet,” Marco replied thoughtfully, “but get over to his office tonight while I’m at the club. Take his computer and check out his paper files. If he’s not home, do a run through his apartment as well, but don’t make a mess. Be quick and clean.”
“Will do, but I may be able to access his computer through hers.”
“How the hell do you do that?” Marco muttered, watching Benny’s fingers fly across the keyboard.
“It’s a gift. Like what you do, and Joe with his cooking. I’ll do a profile on Steadman. The works.”
“Thanks, Benny. I’m taking Steph back to my bedroom, but I’ll allow her access to the kitchen. I’m pretty sure she’ll stay put, but secure all the rooms just in case, and make sure you and Joe don’t run into her.”
In spite of its isolated location, the lodge was equipped with a state of the art security system. The house was monitored, and the rooms could be locked manually, or with a push of a button.
Striding from the room with her belongings, he turned down the hall and headed to his den. Leaving her purse and keys on his desk, he carried her laptop back to the kitchen.
The photograph was probably why she’d chosen to remain silent.
Dark thoughts burned through his brain.
Besides Steadman, who else had she involved in her snooping?
It appeared she was a dangerous nuisance, but approaching the kitchen he brightened his expression.
“Surprise!” he declared, walking briskly across to the table and placing her computer in front of her.
“Really?” she exclaimed, staring up at him with wide eyes. “They found my locker? And the key? But that’s—”
“Don’t say impossible, because obviously it’s not,” he retorted, cutting her off. “Steph, hiding things from professionals is a waste of time. You’re better off leaving them out in the open. They’ll be found anyway, and your place won’t get ransacked.”
“I can’t believe it,” she muttered, staring at her computer.
“Obviously you won’t be able to go online.”
She nodded, then let out a breath.
“Thanks, Marco.”
Resting his palms on the table, he leaned over her.
“You can thank me by giving me the password,” he said solemnly, wanting her to volunteer the information and believe her machine hadn’t been compromised.
He saw a flicker of fear cross her eyes.
“I know whatever you’re holding back is in there. I can have it hacked, but that will take a while, and it might mess up your hard drive.” Then taking a dramatic breath, he added, “You don’t have to tell me outright. You can write it out. It might be easier for you.”
“I, uh…”
