Page 6 of Insidious Threats
“Yes. Naya told her she could use the space as long as she needs to. Why?”
He shrugged. “No real reason. Just don’t you think it’s odd that the police haven’t asked to go through that stuff? There might be something in there that shows who was calling the shots.”
“There might be, but I think the authorities are pursuing other avenues right now. They have a political nightmare on their hands with a cop who murdered a prisoner in custody.”
“I guess so,” he allowed. “What about Maisy and Jordana? Are they still trying to run it down for their podcast?”
“I think they’re focusing on the financial angle right now.”
Connelly nodded. “That makes sense. Presumably, whoever transferred a hundred million dollars to Landon’s account the day he died knows something.”
“Ya think?”
He laughed. “Yeah, probably.” Then his expression grew thoughtful. “Do you think Maisy and Jordana would want some help going through the documents?”
She gave him a close, questioning look. “Are you volunteering?”
“Maybe. Hank and I are between assignments. If nothing else, it’s an excuse to hang around your office.”
“Mmm. You have a crush on one of the lawyers?”
He brushed a kiss over her lips. “I might.”
She leaned in and pressed her mouth harder against his. He pulled her close, holding her hips against his thighs.
“I’ll talk to Maisy,” she breathed. Then she reluctantly took a step back and smoothed down her bunched-up dress. “I should get going before you distract me. I need to prepare for Ms. Teale-James, and Finn and Fiona are probably going to burst in here any second, demanding sustenance.”
“Watch out for Ms. Teale-Jones. I hear those lawyers with the double-barreled names are crafty.”
She smiled. “I’ve heard that, too. Don’t forget, Naya and I are taking Maisy out to dinner after the meeting.”
“To celebrate?”
“Or commiserate. Time will tell.”
“To celebrate,” he said firmly. “Don’t walk home. Call a ride share.”
“Connelly, it’s four blocks. And I’m the deadliest five-foot-tall woman you know.”
“Please?”
She rolled her eyes and gave him one more quick kiss. “Only because you said please.” She glanced at the time and groaned. “I really do have to go.”
“Go get her, Ms. McCandless-Connelly.”
“Oh, I will. After all, I’m one of those crafty hyphenated lawyers.”
His laughter trailed behind her as she left the office.
5
Stasia stood in front of the etched glass front door and waited for someone to answer the chimes that echoed through the Steptoes’ massive marble entryway. She passed the time studying the visible portions of the mansion through the door and betting with herself whether a butler or a maid would answer.
As it turned out, it was neither. Bella Steptoe, dressed in a workout outfit—colorful leggings and a long, fitted tank top—opened the door herself. Her expression turned from one of welcome to one of confusion when her eyes landed on Stasia.
“Oh, you’re not Laura.”
The statement didn’t seem to require an answer, so Stasia stood quietly and waited.
