Page 61 of Chandelier Enthralled
“What evidence do you have?”
“It’s in a safety deposit box. Anything happens to me, and it will come out.”
I suppressed a laugh at his paranoia.
This guy was unhinged—and I was fricking working in the same building.
My family had been briefed about moments like this, when the press screamed an accusation, and our response was everything. Recorded for a lifetime of ridicule and inspection. Discomfort at questions can look a lot like guilt, I’d been warned.
Still, if I could shed some light on this and calm him down, that would get this guy off my back.
So, I said, “What’s the journalist’s name?”
“Dean Hersey.”
“Show me what you have.”
He dragged out his phone and held the screen up for me to see. “This is Atticus Sinclair, a doctor at Cedars coming out of a club.” He slid the photo along. “And here he is having lunch with your brother at a yacht club.”
In the photo taken from outside a restaurant, Cameron sat at a round table and appeared deep in conversation with a handsome man with a tattoo on his hand. They weren’t alone—sitting with them was that famous football player, Jake Carrington.
My breath caught in my throat as I looked closer—sitting with them was my brothers’ gorgeous friend, the man I’d spoken with in Cam’s kitchen on Thursday—Greyson. That piqued my interest, because he’d been hanging around my brother’s place.
Maybe there was more to this story.
“When was this taken?” I asked nonchalantly.
“No comment.”
“Where?”
“I told you, at a yacht club.” He lowered his phone. “Which happens to be the last known whereabouts of Dean Hersey.”
“Was Dean at that meeting?”
“No.”
“He took that shot with a high angle lens?” I asked. “Spying on members of a club?”
“He was investigating activity on a yacht.”
“Whose yacht?” I held my breath fearing he’d mention my brother’s.
He shrugged. “A few days later, Dean went back to Marina Del Rey to talk with Lance Merrill, the owner of the yacht. Then he turned up dead.”
“Lance Merrill? The oil tycoon?” I asked, my eyes wide. “Didn’t he die from a heart attack? I saw it on the news.”
“Yeah, people turning up dead. The common denominator being your brother and his friends.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“Atticus Sinclair talked with Dean, right before he got in the car with Lance. I was there.”
“Dean got in the car with Lance Merrill?”
“Yes, then he turned up dead.”
I mulled over the facts. “Why are you investigating this?”
