Complete Me (Stark Trilogy, #3)(89)

I don’t ask him how he knows all of this if he doesn’t have access to the account. I do not doubt that Damien Stark has access to pretty much any information that he’s willing to pay for. “Why would your father send Sofia that much money?”

“Payment for her testimony,” he says. “He wanted her to testify about the abuse—same reason you wanted me to testify. But he didn’t know about the photos. She must have found them in Richter’s things. She took those, sent them to the court, waited around just long enough to make sure it worked, and then used the money to skip out of Europe.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“After I learned about the skimmed money, I had another talk with dear old dad. He told me.”

“And you believe him?”

“I do.”

I nod slowly, trying to process all of this. “Does he know where she is now?”

“He says no, and before you ask, I believe him about that, too. Sofia was never fond of my father. I can see her taking his money. I can’t see her staying in touch.”

“All right,” I say slowly. “I understand that you’re still worried about her, but this means that you can stop worrying that the pictures will turn up in the tabloids. Sofia won’t release them, right?”

“No,” he says with more intensity than I would expect. “I’m certain that she won’t ever let anyone get their hands on those images.”

“So this is good news,” I say. “You’ll find her eventually—doesn’t she always show up?”

“She does, and I may have a lead on her already. I tracked down David and his band. They just arrived in Chicago from Shanghai. I spoke to David on the phone. He tells me he hasn’t seen Sofia, but I don’t believe him. I think a face-to-face conference might help jog his memory.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he says.

He has stopped pacing, and I go to him, then take his hands in mine. “How long will you be gone?”

“If I’m lucky? I’ll be back by dinner.”

“And if you’re not lucky?”

“Let’s hope I am.”





Chapter Twenty-One

Since Jamie wants to grab some things from our condo, she rides in with Edward and me. The plan is to drop me by my office, then swing Jamie by the condo. Then Edward will take her back to Malibu before returning to Sherman Oaks to wait for me. While he’s gone, I promise to stay inside my office, safe behind the protection of the building’s efficient receptionist.

Cumbersome, yes, but since we still don’t know who has been sending the stalker-like messages, Damien insisted I keep the security guys, and I agreed. Still, I’m so ready for this to be over that I think if Damien suggested we go live in Antarctica for a year, I would jump all over that plan.

We pop into Starbucks on the way, mostly to get coffee, but also because I want to introduce Jamie to Monica. She’s not there, however, and so we take our lattes and head to my office. I give Jamie the grand tour, which takes about twelve seconds, and then soak up her effusive hugs and cries of “I’m so proud of you!”

“If Damien’s not back from Chicago by tonight, do you want to rent a movie?” I ask as she’s about to head out.

“Sure,” she says. “And if he is back?”

I grin wickedly. “In that case, I have other plans.”

I settle behind my desk as Jamie rolls her eyes and leaves. It takes me about ten minutes to go through my emails and handle a bunch of administrative crap. I finish tweaking the code on one of my entertainment apps, then push the update through. Then I pull out the web-based app that I’ve been working on. A cross-platform, multi-user note-taking system that Damien has already told me he’ll license for Stark International once I’m out of beta testing.

First, I have to finish coding the damn thing and actually get it into beta testing.

I’m so lost in concentration that I jump when the intercom beeps. “Yes?” I snap.

“There’s a Monica Karts here to see you.”

“Oh.” I’m actually a bit irritated by the interruption. I’ve never seen Monica outside of the coffee shop, and it seems a little odd that she’s come unannounced. At the same time, I don’t know that many people here yet, and I do like her. And since Damien is out of town, I can always work late and make up for lost time. “Tell her to come on back.”

“I love it!” she says as she bursts through the door. “Your own office. That’s so cool.”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, man. I don’t mean to just barge in like you’ve got nothing better to do. Honest. But I got these head shots and I didn’t see you at Starbucks this morning, and I really wanted to show you today. Is that okay?”

I can’t help my smile. Her enthusiasm is effusive. “Of course.”

She plunks herself in the chair opposite my desk, then passes me the envelope. “Go ahead. Take a peek.”

I frown, because her voice sounds different. What I’d thought was a Northeastern prep school lilt now has much more of a British quality to it.

My thoughts about her voice, however, disappear entirely when I pull out the first photo. It is not a head shot, and as I hold it between two fingers, my body turns to ice and I have to stifle the urge to throw up.