Saving Grace. Patricia Rosemoor
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When he pulled back, he brushed her in the process. She practically jumped away from him. For a second, her gaze went blank, as though she were somewhere else. Declan was hit by a sense of panic that didn’t make any sense. Then Grace quickly gathered herself and went inside the dressing room. She flicked on the light, then slowly turned, her gaze furtively darting around the room.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Slow down. Think about the angle from which the photograph was taken. The camera had to be in front of you. So which way were you facing?”
“The mirror.”
“The camera wasn’t straight on—”
“It was up a little,” she finished for him.
They both looked up, over the mirror.
Declan’s gaze settled on the mirror frame itself—about four inches wide with a shiny black finish. Tall enough to reach over, he ran his fingers along the edge of the mirror.
“Got it,” he muttered, “and it’s Wi-Fi.” He ran his fingers over the front of the frame, then tapped the spot where a small chunk of wood had been drilled out. “The lens such as it is lines up right here.”
“I can’t see anything.”
“The shiny black paint presents you with an optical illusion, but there is a peephole. If you look closely, you can see it.”
Grace moved closer so that she was almost touching him. “There it is. Wireless, huh? It’ll make it easier to pull out.”
“We don’t want to do that. If all else fails, we might be able to trap whoever did this with his own camera.”
“In the meantime, there’s an unwanted set of eyes in the dressing room.”
“So don’t dress in front of the mirror.” What he was really thinking was that she shouldn’t play out her fantasies except in the privacy of her own home, but he didn’t think she would appreciate the advice. She’d already learned the hard way. “Just in case, let me check the room over. And the powder room.”
“All right,” Grace conceded, aiming a resentful glare at the hiding place as she sank into a chair.
Declan felt her eyes on him as he searched every nook and cranny. And her emotions. They were in a whirl. Anger mixed with hurt. He realized she couldn’t conceive of anyone betraying her like this. He wanted to put his arms around her and tell her that he would catch the creep and stop the blackmail and everything would be all right. Only he wasn’t sure it would be that easy. And, from her attitude toward him, she apparently didn’t want him to touch her.
He could only speculate on the reason—her emotions told him what she was feeling, but they didn’t explain why.
“The room seems to be clear other than the camera we found,” Declan said. “How much time do you think we have before Eula comes looking for us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a bit. She’s pretty relaxed. Usually.”
“Then let’s take advantage of every moment and check out Max’s office.”
Leading the way out the door, she asked, “What do you expect to find there?”
“A Wi-Fi camera can send a signal to a compatible printer or computer.”
“I’m not what you would call a techie.”
“Don’t worry, our firm can high tech along with the best of them. My cousin Ian makes sure we keep up with the latest gadgets.”
“You think Max is the one, don’t you?”
“The people here are the most logical suspects. Cameras are Max’s thing, after all, and this is her business.”
“Seems too easy to me,” she said. “She’d know that I would figure it out and press charges.”
“But if she’s getting big bucks from someone for doing this, she could think it’s worth the risk. You have to know that whoever did this is probably counting on the fact that you love your family too much to see their careers destroyed.”
A quick tour of Max’s office did show that both her printer and her desktop computer had a wireless card. But if there was a file with the explicit photos of Grace stored on the system,
Declan couldn’t identify it. He enjoyed checking out the shots he did find—Grace posing for Voodoo ads. She didn’t need to be exposing herself to have him where it hurt. His imagination set in motion once more, he found it difficult to concentrate, so he shut down the computer and continued on a physical search of the office.
When they reached for the same file drawer, their hands touched. Declan froze. He didn’t know how much temptation he could take. Grace got that weird expression again. Then she blinked and came back and Declan was more tempted than ever to kiss her….
“Hey, Miss Grace, where are you?”
They scrambled away from each other as Eula strode into the office. Luckily the computer was down and no drawers were open so the whole thing looked pretty innocent.
“What you doin’ in here?”
“The invitation,” she said breathlessly, pulling something from her trouser pocket and waving it at the guard. “Look, I just found it.”
“Good for you. Bergeron wants to get in here and clean and I told him to wait a minute so he didn’t disturb you.”
“Tell him the place is his,” Grace said. “And thank you so much. Now I won’t have to make my excuses to Mama.”
“She might put you in jail, eh?” Eula said with a laugh as they all left Max Babin’s office.
“Mama might consider it a crime if I didn’t make it to the fund-raiser, but she might have a hard time putting me behind bars simply for being a no-show.”
“You never know who she might decide to prosecute,” Eula said.
When they stepped out of the studio, Declan saw a man in khakis leaning on a cleaning cart. He didn’t look as anxious to get started as the security guard suggested.
“Hey, Bergeron, we’re out of your way,” Grace called cheerfully.
Giving her a sour look, Bergeron merely grunted in return and shoved his cart through the door.
Sensing a wave of something dark, something he couldn’t quite define, Declan murmured, “Friendly, huh?”
“He’s new. He started working here about a month ago. He’s always like that with everyone.” Grace practically flew down the stairs.
Declan had to work to keep up with her.
“Good thinking,” he said. “Bringing the invitation with you.”
“What