Page 53 of Fiery Romance

By evening’s end, my head’s a mess.

A buzzing sound grabs my attention. I look down and see my phone screen lighting up.

It’s not Island.

It’s Andre, my head of cyber investigations.

I leave the room before answering. “Did you track the license plate?”

Earlier today, I organized the evidence and went through it with a fine-tooth comb. Although I couldn’t be on the ground, I dedicated every bit of free time in between strategy meetings to the salon. I finally found a clue.

“Caught them on camera unloading at a warehouse near the docks. Like you suspected, the perps moved the property out in pieces through the night. It wasn’t a well-thought out plan. They used a beat-up van that could barely fit the wash basins.” Andre huffs. “Amateurs.”

I rub my chin. “They couldn’t be bothered to rent a truck for transportation. Experienced burglars would know better. I’m guessing this is a personal grudge case. Who did the plates belong to?”

He rattles off a woman’s name.

“Any connection to Island?” I ask.

“No, but there is a connection to Rasheeda Wilson, the salon manager.”

I squint into the distance. Just beyond our house is the lake. I can barely make out the glittering surface as the sun makes its final descent. “Who’s the perp? A disgruntled ex-employee? A sister?”

“Not unless we’re talking sister wives.”

My shoulders tighten. “Which one was having the affair?”

“Ms. Wilson. Guy was married and he didn’t hide it, so I’m assuming Ms. Wilson knew. The wife’s been leaving cryptic messages on social media about love. Things like ‘I’m a true ride or die’ and ‘some women have no boundaries’. She even left a few messages on the salon’s page. Wilson deleted them, but you know I can recover anything.”

I do know.

It’s almost scary.

Andre’s the reason I’ve taped over the cameras on all the tablets, webcams and monitors in this house.

“Did you catch anything on camera?” I ask.

He yawns. “That question is an insult to my intelligence.”

The guy rarely answers a question with a straight yes or no, but he’s a genius and always gets the job done. Because of that, he has free rein to say whatever the hell he wants. I don’t mind his sass as long as he keeps being my ace.

“Tie the footage up in a neat bow and wait for my order. I’ll talk to Island before I send the evidence over to the police.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“And Andre.”

“Yep?”

“Thanks.”

“I like my appreciation in cash.”

I smirk. “Understood.”

I hang up and eagerly scroll to Island’s number. Since I have news to share with her, it’s perfectly professional and right to call.

After ringing her phone a few times and getting no response, I start to get worried. I told the guys to escort her home. What if she headed out again? What if she got in the middle of this messy affair?

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