Claire inspected her front bumper, Mike trailed around the perimeter of the car. He ran his hand along the driver’s side door, skimming his fingers along the windows. “Claire?”
“Yeah?” Her boots clicked as she walked toward him. “Everything looks okay in the front.”
“Did you have these scratches on your window like this before?”
She bent forward rubbing her fingers over the grooves in the glass. “No.”
“Feel the edge of the door here. Rough, isn’t it?”
Her eyebrows collided over her nose as she bent forward and traced a finger along the seam where the window met the door. “It does feel rough. How would that happen?”
His eyes met hers, wide in her pale face. “Someone was trying to use a slim jim to break into your car.”
She gasped and shot up to her full height. “Do you think the alarm scared them off? Who would do that in broad daylight on the street?”
“Someone who thought he could make it look like he was just opening the door with a key.” His lips formed a thin line and a muscle jumped in his jaw.
“You don’t think...?” She flung out one arm. “How would anyone even know we were here? I don’t have any business in Brooktown.”
He headed toward the trunk, crouched down and poked his head beneath the chassis of her car.
“Mike, what are you doing?”
A few minutes later, his fingers greasy from his exploration, he straightened up and stalked to the front of the car. He dropped to his knees and trailed his fingers along the inside of the wheel well. They tripped over a hard, square object.
“Bingo.”
“Bingo? Bingo what?” The slightly hysterical edge to Claire’s voice told him she knew what was coming.
He yanked the tracking device from her car and held it up. “Someone’s been following you.”
She swayed and braced her hand against the hood of the car. Spencer knew. She’d given herself away somehow. She’d been naive to think a man like Spencer would allow himself to be investigated without turning the tables.
“I—I don’t understand. I’ve been so careful. Why would he have me followed?”
Mike squinted at the tracker and then tossed it in the air. “He doesn’t trust you. He probably never forgot that you suspected him of murdering your mother.”
“That was almost three years ago. Do you mean to tell me he’s been tracking my movements for three years?”
“Maybe. Have you been anywhere, done anything in those three years that would tip him off to anything?”
“Just coming here, where I have no reason to be. I just got the safe deposit box about a year ago.”
“So he knows you have a bank account in Maryland. That’s not much.” He circled to the front of the car and crouched before it, reaching beneath the body.
“What are you doing? You’re not putting it back?”
“If you take it off and throw it in the trash, he’s going to know you found it. You shouldn’t do anything different.” He popped back up and wedged his hip against the hood. “Are you sure it’s Correll? Do you have any other enemies?”
“None that I’m aware of.” She plucked some tissues from her bag and waved them at him. “Wipe your hands on these.”
“No ex-boyfriends stalking you?”
“Are you kidding? I haven’t had any boyfriends since...” She shoved the tissues into his hand.
“Then we’ll assume it’s your stepfather, and all he knows is that you come out to a bank and library in Brooktown a few times a month.”
“If you leave that thing on there, he’s going to know we went to your hotel in DC.”
“So what? I already told him I’d taken a room at the Capitol Plaza and left most of my stuff there.” He’d shredded the tissues wiping his hands and then crumpled them into a ball. “Let me get rid of this and we’ll satisfy Correll’s curiosity by going to my hotel.”
She held up her key as he walked back from the trash can near the steps of the library. “Do you still want to drive?”
“Sure.” He snatched the dangling keys from her fingers and caught her wrist. “Don’t worry. That tracker told him nothing.”
She let out the breath trapped in her lungs and nodded. His touch made her feel secure, but she had to be careful. She’d made him uncomfortable with her previous display of emotion. For all his outer friendliness and charm, he had an aloof quality—except when he’d been kissing her last night. He hadn’t seemed to mind her touch then.
Of course, the drive for sex came from a completely different place than the trigger for empathy. She’d rather have him desire her than pity her, anyway.
His lashes fell over his dark eyes and he pressed a kiss against the inside of her wrist. Then he dropped her hand. “Let’s get going.”
She had no idea what emotions had played across her face for him to do that, but she’d have to try to duplicate them sometime soon.
She slipped into the passenger seat of the car, glancing at the scratches on the driver’s-side window as Mike opened the door.
When he settled behind the wheel, she turned to him. “If Spencer’s lackey had managed to get into my car, then what? What exactly had he been looking for?”
“Your laptop? That video?”
“Spencer couldn’t possibly know about the video. I left it in his trash can after I discovered it.”
He cranked on the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “He’s grasping at straws, just like you. How did you manage to get into Correll’s laptop?”
“I bribed his admin assistant, Fiona.”
“How do you know she didn’t tell him?”
“She wouldn’t. She let me have access to his laptop and gave me his password. If she had told him that, he would’ve gotten get rid of her for sure and changed his password.”
“How do you know that wasn’t his plan all along? Why’d she do it? Money?”
“I’m not going to lie. Money did exchange hands, but I played on the emotions of a woman scorned.”
“Fiona? Scorned?”
She plucked an imaginary piece of fuzz from the arm of her sweater. “Spencer had been having an affair with Fiona. I overheard
