The Match (Wilde, #2)(92)

Big Bobbo jumped back up off the floor in an almost comical fashion. “What the hell, bro? That was a cheap shot.”

“What do you want?” Jenn asked.

“Yeah,” Big Bobbo repeated. “What do you want? Wait, who is this guy?”

“He’s a relative of Peter’s.”

Big Bobbo gave Wilde a sympathetic look. “Ah, bro, for real? Sorry, man. I liked the dude.”

“It’s none of your business who I spend my time with,” Jenn said.

“That’s true,” Wilde said.

“I’m allowed a life.”

“Also true.”

“So get out,” she said.

Big Bobbo stuck out his chest. “Hey, bro, you heard the lady.”

Wilde ignored Bobbo and kept his gaze on Jenn. “I don’t care who you date or about reality TV or your likes or your followers or any of that. But I need to know the truth.”

“What truth?” Jenn asked. “Peter and I are over. I’m with Bob now.”

“Yeah,” Bob said. “We’re in love.”

“Wait,” Jenn said, “how did you find me?”

Wilde wasn’t about to tell her that when they were in her apartment earlier that day, he dropped one of Rola’s tracking devices into her purse. It was that simple. Wilde had suspected this; something about Jenn’s whole demeanor, about the whole story with her sister and the podcast and the photographs, had not felt right to him.

“Look, bro,” Big Bobbo said, “I don’t want any trouble, okay? Jenn and I, we’re in love. We’ve been in love for a long time—”

“Bob.”

“No, hon, let me just get this out, okay?” He turned to Wilde. “You care about Petey Boy. Cool, I get that. But he went too far.”

“Went too far how?”

Jenn said, “Bob.”

“You heard the podcast,” Big Bobbo continued. “You saw the photos.”

Wilde couldn’t believe it. He shook his head and looked at Jenn. “Big Bobbo doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t know what?” Bobbo said. “Oh, about Marnie lying? I heard about that today, and it sucks. Totally get that. But Petey Boy still did a lot wrong—those pics of him getting all nasty with other chicks and whatnot.”

“Bob,” Wilde said, still reeling from the fact that he didn’t get it, “she made it all up.”

“I know. Marnie—”

“Not Marnie,” Wilde said. He turned and faced Jenn.

Big Bobbo looked confused. “What?”

“He’s lying,” Jenn said.

There was no reason to interrogate Jenn or ask pointed questions or try to trap her. There was no reason to let her continue to lie or watch her shed tears or whatever tactic she was going to use. Wilde just plowed full steam ahead. “Your popularity was plummeting. Yours and Peter’s. You two had a great run. You were a lovable couple, and that was fun for a while, but really, you two had milked that for all you could. Bobbo, how long has she been stepping out on Peter with you?”

Big Bobbo glanced at Jenn.

“From the beginning?” Wilde asked. “Let’s not pretend you only started up recently. But that doesn’t matter.” He turned back to her. “You and Peter tried to keep the viewers’ attention. A baby might have helped, but you guys had trouble conceiving. Your social media engagements went way down. You got demoted down from the big penthouse to the smaller apartment—and you’d be kicked out of that soon. So at some point, you realized that staying with Peter would mean the death of your career.”

“If that’s all true,” Jenn said, putting her hands on her hips, “why wouldn’t I just break up with him?”

Wilde sighed. “Are we really going to play it that way? Okay, fine. If you broke up with Peter, the perceived nicest man in the world, you’d be the bad guy. You couldn’t have that. But once you were the one wronged—pretty much the minute your sister went on the podcast—the fans flocked to social media to defend you and villainize Peter. Suddenly your social media engagements soared. You were bigger than ever. You set it all up, Jenn. You hired Henry McAndrews. You, of course, took the compromising photographs of Peter. Who else? It couldn’t have been hard. You just hid a camera. You cut yourself out of the photographs. You were even smart enough to not do it in your own bedroom—someone might notice the background. But here you messed up a little. The EXIF data showed two of the photos were taken in Scottsdale. It wasn’t hard to check. You and Peter were in Scottsdale on those dates. I’ll be able to get someone to match up the background with your hotel room that night. There will be more proof. You paid Henry McAndrews via a law firm, but now he’s been murdered, the cops will demand to know who his clients were.”

Big Bobbo looked at her. “Babe?”

“Shut up, Bob,” Jenn said. “This is all nonsense.”

“We both know it’s not. We both know it is all going to fall apart. I’m a little surprised though. I figured you”—Wilde turned to Big Bobbo—“were in on it. But of course, she couldn’t trust you. Or anyone. Not even Marnie.” He looked back at Jenn. “You knew Marnie would do anything for fame—she’s just like you that way. So you set up Marnie’s ambush with that producer. The woman who told Marnie the story about Peter roofying her—was she a producer too? Doesn’t matter. But I do wonder why you didn’t just ask Marnie to cooperate in your scheme. That part surprised me. But maybe even Marnie wouldn’t have gone that far. Maybe you worried that if Marnie knew the truth, you were more vulnerable. I don’t know. But tell me: When Peter swore up and down to you that he was innocent, what did you really say?”