SEAL the Deal(85)

Reaching to her, Mick squeezed her hand. “You did the right thing. Three break-ins and nothing stolen? There has to be a link. The police would agree.”

“Well, maybe we should just call them rather than go through all this ourselves.”

Maeve raised her eyebrows. “And tell your client that you handed over her personal papers to the police on a hunch?”

Bess’s nose was buried in a stack of manila envelopes. “Honestly, Lacey, I don’t know if there’s really a right thing to do in this case.”

The boxes were filled with exactly what Lacey expected: bills, legal documents, expired passports, photographs, even some of her children’s report cards. From the look of it, Lacey didn’t think Carolyn had touched the boxes in years.

“What’s this?” Jack leaned back into the sofa looking at some black and white photographs he had pulled from a large white envelope. He cringed. “Oh. This doesn’t look good.”

Maeve settled into the couch beside him. “Holy hell. Who is this guy?”

Mick reached for the photos. “Is this Carolyn’s husband?” he asked, handing Lacey the pile.

The first two were photos of a construction site in the middle of a city block. She could see two figures standing on the steps of a brownstone across the street.

The next two photos closed in on the figures, revealing them in an embrace. The next three were similar, though obviously taken later from the progress on the construction. The man was the same, but each one was with a different woman. Several more photos were taken from a distance through a window, revealing just enough to be able to guess what was going on behind closed doors.

Lacey shook her head. “It looks nothing like him from the photos she had on her wall.”

“Well, whoever he is, he’s a hell of a player.”

Maeve moved to sit next to Lacey. “He looks familiar, though. Doesn’t he? I just don’t know where from.”

Lacey massaged the knotted up muscles in her neck. “Okay, so let’s just talk hypothetically here. These photos obviously might be incriminating to this guy—whoever he is. If he’s married.”

“You said Carolyn’s husband was a contractor, right?” Mick pointed out. “That would explain why the photos were taken at a construction site. So let’s say—again, just hypothetical—that Carolyn’s husband happens to discover that this guy is screwing around on his wife with multiple women and decides to blackmail him?”

“Then Carolyn’s husband dies, and this player guy decides he wants to get the photos back.” There was a gleam of intrigue in Bess’s eyes.

Maeve frowned. “But how would this guy know to look here or in Lacey’s car?”

“Wait a second.” Standing up, Lacey began pacing the floor. “Maeve, remember when I had Carolyn’s open house and I had thought someone had been in the house?”

“But you found out that it was her son, right?”

“Right. So what if, now that dear daddy is dead, the son decides he wants to be cashing in on the blackmail deal. So he tries to find the photos.”

Maeve snapped her fingers. “And his mom happens to mention that you are storing some of her stuff, so he decides to try here. Then in Lacey’s car.”

A brief silence fell over the room.

“Well,” Lacey concluded, “I guess it’s time to call the police.”

Maeve practically purred. “I hope they send that cute detective again. The one with the green eyes. Mmm…”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN




Lacey didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Sitting in her car, the motor humming, she stared at the unpleasant stripes of yellow police tape that now blocked the entries to her first waterfront listing. Her masterpiece. A house that sparkled under her exacting eye, perfectly staged for sale. She had transformed it from a dated eyesore into a jewel with the barest minimum of seller budgets.

Now it was considered a possible crime scene, unable to be sold until the case was closed.

The past days had been tedious. The interviews with the police investigators. The removal of her client files. Curious looks from her co-workers. And the worst part of it—the difficult conversation with Carolyn after the police commenced the investigation.

But Lacey had made the right move, the detectives assured her. The man in the photograph turned out to be more than just your average Joe cheating on his wife. He was a Congressman, now retired, who had allegedly used federal funds to purchase, renovate, and maintain the brownstone in the photos solely for his personal use as a meeting place for several affairs, at least one of which was with a paid escort.