Page 88 of The Murder Club

Thorpe shrugged. “He’s a distant cousin. I knew he was living overseas and that he’d done his best to avoid sharing any personal information that might be found on the web. He’s obsessive about maintaining his privacy.”

Dom twisted his lips in a humorless smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t outed him and plastered his face across every magazine in the world. Anything for a profit, right?”

Another shrug. “He pays me to keep his identity a secret.”

Dom rolled his eyes, glancing toward the photos in his hands. There were more images of Kaden and Lia, but these all had sticky notes attached. On each note was the name of a magazine or newspaper or online site, along with a row of numbers. Kaden assumed it was the buyer for each picture and what they’d paid. It added up to an astronomical sum.

Christ, it was no wonder Thorpe had been willing to skulk around, pretending to be someone else. On the point of returning the photos to Bailey, Dom caught sight of a familiar image. Anger blasted through him and he clenched the picture until it threatened to rip.

“How did you sneak into Kaden’s house?”

Thorpe’s smug expression faded as he gazed at Dom with a sudden wariness. “I didn’t.”

Dom held up the picture of the guest bedroom that Bailey had been using. “Then what’s this?”

Bailey reached up to snatch the picture from his hand, her face pale as she glared at Thorpe with a sick expression.

“That’s the picture that was sent to me by the stalker.”

“I’ve told you. I’m not a stalker,” Thorpe protested.

“We have all the proof we need.”

“You have nothing.”

“Let’s ask Zac what he thinks,” Dom drawled, reaching into his pocket to wrap his fingers around his phone. “I’m pretty sure he takes a dim view of people who lie about their name, sneak into peoples’ homes, and spy on women in his town.”

“All right. I’ll admit that I came to town to take pictures of Kaden to sell. It’s my job,” Thorpe ground out. “But I didn’t trespass on his property.”

Dom pointed toward the picture of the bedroom. “And this?”

“I have no idea . . .” The man’s words trailed away as Dom pulled out his phone. “Wait,” he snapped. “Most of the photos are mine, but I couldn’t get into the wedding, so I bought a few pictures, including the ones inside the house.”

“Bought them from who?”

Thorpe’s expression hardened, but he forced himself to reveal his source. No doubt he sensed that Dom was ready and willing to call the sheriff.

“Kevin Hartford.”

Dom and Bailey shared a shocked glance. It felt as if they were caught in a tangled web. Every time they pulled on a new strand they ended up back where they started.

Bailey dropped the photo as if it was tainted. And maybe it was. So far two men connected with the texts had ended up dead.

“How did you know Kevin?”

“I didn’t.” Thorpe held up his hands as Dom parted his lips. “I was hanging around the front gates trying to get pictures of the wedding guests when he arrived in the photographer’s van and happened to notice me.”

Dom wasn’t convinced. “There were lots of paparazzi at the front gate. Why would he notice you in particular?”

“I’d watched the van go in and out of the property for a couple of days, so I made sure I was at the front of the crowd on the day of the wedding. When the dude in the passenger seat glanced out the window I flashed a wad of cash. He nodded, and I knew he understood what I wanted. I hung around after the reception ended and the crowd thinned. At last he came to find me. We made a deal that he’d get me copies of whatever photos his wife took and I’d pay him for them. It’s an arrangement I’ve made a thousand times before.”

Dom wasn’t shocked by Thorpe’s confession. He’d spent enough time with Kaden to know that the paparazzi were ruthless when they scented a story. Like flies buzzing around a carcass. And that they’d use anyone to get some sort of exclusive scoop. He wasn’t even shocked that Kevin would agree to sell his wife’s pictures and put her livelihood at risk for a wad of cash. Drug addicts would sink to any level to get their next high.

And the explanation answered a few of their questions. Like why Thorpe had lied about his identity and how someone had a photo of the guest room Bailey was using. And even who might have been spying on him and Kaden the night before his wedding.

But there were still hundreds more questions churning through his mind.

Starting with who had been texting the picture of the guest room to Bailey.

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