Page 51 of Conrad

“Do you remember her name?” Penelope’s voice shook, just a little.

And he got it. Penelope knew very well the name of Edward’s fiancée. Except he’dmether sister, Tia, who had dark hair. And probably didn’t drive a bug, and—Penelope was faking.

Oh. Wow.She was very, very good at the fake. Should probably teach a few of his wings.

“I think he called her Sarah. Anyway, they were so cute together. He’d sometimes cook out on the grill facing the river. Not that I watched them or anything, but oh, they seemed so in love.”

Penelope covered Janet’s hand with hers. “Thank you for telling me. Do you really think you could describe the shooter?”

“Absolutely. Tall, dark hair, big build. Looked like a tough guy, you know?”

A tough guy. Yeah, that described the majority of Conrad’s team.

Penelope got up. “Do you mind if I get your number? You know, just in case I have any questions?”

Janet rattled it off, and Penelope put it into her phone.

Conrad watched as she hugged Janet, gave her a warm smile.

He thanked the woman as they left. He walked out to the car, a clench in his gut.

“We already knew that Sarah knew Edward, right?”

“Right.” She opened the door, her expression unreadable.

Ho-kay.He slid into the driver’s seat and turned to her. “It doesn’t mean he was cheating?—”

She held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe Tia escaped tragedy.” She looked away, her jaw tight.

Oh no.Especially since he didn’t exactly know how to fix it. “Cookie?”

He got a laugh. Not a big one, and maybe it wasn’t even a laugh but an expulsion of breath that also loosened the tension in the car. “No, thank you. But . . . it makes me think about what Harper said to me.” She turned. “Two weeks before Sarah was murdered, someone broke into her apartment and stole her computer.”

“Yes.”

“Tommy saw him—tried to stop him. Lots of reasons, but in the tussle, he tore his pocket and ended up with a box of matches from Turbo.”

“Turbo—wait, the nightclub?”

“Yeah. Tommy and Harper went there to talk to the security, but it was closed. They ended up at the offices of S & W but then got carjacked and . . . Anyway, what if this so-called ‘tough guy’”—she finger quoted the words—“worked for Turbo?”

“Why Turbo?” He’d turned on the car to crank up the heat.

“The building is managed by S & W—so it’s possible the security works for the building, not just the nightclub.”

He put the car into Drive. “They should be open by now.”

“What are we going to do—ask around for a big guy?”

He looked at her. “No, PI Penny. We’re going to take some shots of the security guys, and you’re going to text them to our friend Janet. See if we get a hit. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to eat something.”

She laughed. Put a hand on his arm. Squeezed.

Yeah, this date was so not over.

* * *

Conrad clearly had more power than just a few thousand social-media followers. Apparently, the guy had friends tucked away everywhere, or at least fans everywhere, because although Turbo was closed to the general public, Mr. King Con sat with a plate of wings and a Diet Coke, talking with Rex Dalton, the owner of the nightclub, a man in a pair of dress pants and an untucked fitted dress shirt.

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