on a daily basis for any media hits, good or bad, on their clients. And they had us all set up Google Alerts, as well. I just don’t generally pay attention to mine.”
He looked over at her. Didn’t like that she was still frowning. Kacey’s smile lit up the world. Not his world specifically—but whatever space she occupied. He’d been around her enough to be ample witness to that fact. It didn’t matter who she was with, from women with damaged spirits to her five-year-old step-nephew—people gravitated to her. Responded to her...
“I didn’t know talent agencies did that,” he said, scrolling slowly down to see whatever had Kacey concerned.
“Maybe most don’t.” She shrugged. “I’m just glad mine does.”
The photo wasn’t sexy in nature, which was what he’d feared. It was more of a head shot. She looked...questionable. Her eyes were shadowed, half-shut. Her mouth was hanging open.
“When was this taken?” He wasn’t relaxed anymore.
“I’m not even sure,” she said. “It doesn’t show what I’m wearing. Could have been anywhere. But I know it was after Christmas.”
He looked at the photo again. “You’re wearing the earrings Lacey got you.” They were a set of three diamond studs for her three ear piercings. Her identical twin shared the same physical traits with Kacey, but Lacey didn’t effervesce like her sister did. Kacey had been feeling guilty about the fact that her sister had suffered for being in her shadow. Lacey wanted her to know that shining was her gift.
“Yeah,” Kacey said now, watching him. He didn’t see the long golden curls. Or the kissable, full lips that the world associated with her. He saw the almost hunted look in her big blue eyes.
He read the caption. “‘America’s daytime sweetheart knows how to tie one on at night.’”
Studying Kacey kept his emotions in check. Focus came naturally to him. He’d spent years training himself not to react to stimulus in front of him. “Have you been drunk, or otherwise under the influence, at any time since Christmas?”
The unmistakably hurt look in her eyes nicked his barriers. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”
He was her...sponsor...albeit secretly, unofficially and probably unnecessarily, too. But she’d wanted someone she’d have to be accountable to if she ever felt like slipping back into her old ways. Someone without undue investment in the outcome.
“So, no?” He forced himself to remain completely noncommittal. She needed help, not judgment. He had to know whatever she could give him before he started building his investigation.
“No.”
“Okay, good.”
“Why is that good?” she asked him. “Beyond the obvious of me not being drunk.”
“I now know this was Photoshopped,” he said. It wasn’t much, but it was somewhere to begin. “I’m assuming you want to know who took the picture.”
“I want to know who posted it,” she said. “And why.”
“It says right here, posted by K&Ltoget...” It was just a screen name.
“K&Ltoget didn’t post that,” she said. “It’s on some rag fan site...”
He saw that now. Recognized the name of a public blog where pretty much anyone could post anything they considered newsworthy. Didn’t have to be true. Or really even news...
She’d said K&Ltoget didn’t post it. As if she knew...
“Who’s K&Ltoget?” he asked, in spite of a strong suspicion he’d figured it out. His fingers itched for his keyboard.
“Kacey and Lacey together forever,” she said. “We never used it as a screen name, but what are the chances of someone coming up with the same exact configuration? It was our first email address. K&Ltoget. At the time, that’s as long as the address could be.”
Her chin was firm, like she was holding emotions in check. He wanted her smiling. Always.
“Do either of you still use the address?”
“There’s no way Lacey would post something like this...”
“I’m not saying she did. I’m not even thinking she could have. I want to know if either of you still use it.”
“Only when we’re writing to each other.”
“When was the last time either of you sent something from that account?”
She motioned her head toward the phone he still held. “Look at my email,” she told him. “You’ll see.”
He hit the back button. Scrolled through her inbox, careful to ignore anything that didn’t pertain to the business at hand.
But he noticed that she’d saved his last several emails to her. She’d saved others, too.
That was Kacey. All inclusive. One of the things he liked about her...
“Last Wednesday,” he said, finding what he was looking for. “You sent each other a string of messages last Wednesday.”
She nodded. “Sounds right.”
“That’s five days ago.”
She nodded and he asked, “Mind if I send this to myself?”
“Of course not...”
He did so. Quickly. Efficiently. Handed her back her phone. He needed to get back to the office.
“Michael? That was our private email when we were kids. We never used it for business. No one ever knew it.”
He nodded, tapped his finger on the table. Then patted a soft rhythm on his thigh.
“You think someone hacked into our computers or phones?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure what’s going on.” Which was why he had to get going. “If your email was hacked, you would probably know it. You aren’t getting any new influx of spam, are you? Anything unusual coming through?”
She shook her head but didn’t seem ready to take off, like she needed to sit with a friend she could trust for a second.
Part of him wanted to give her that. So he stayed. This wasn’t the first time someone had posted something derogatory about her. That came with the territory. They weren’t dealing with life and death.
So why did it feel like they were?
“WE MAKE QUITE a pair...”
Walking beside Michael toward their cars in the run-down parking lot, Kacey wished they had just a little more time together. He was so easy to be with.
