Page 83 of Deadly Designs

“Probably to sell or something.”

“He was wearing an expensive tuxedo! He didn’t looklike he needed to pawn items to make rent.”

“Never judge a book by its cover.”

“You’re right, of course,” she grumbled. “But I don’tenjoy being without a phone.”

In front of them was a grand staircase. Christianwaited until they climbed to the top before pulling Aja Blue asidefrom the traffic flow. “Let’s see if he tried to open it.”

“You can tell?”

He smiled down at her. “Yeah. The head of our techdepartment is a legit genius. He created a program that records thethief, snaps their picture, and captures their fingerprints.”

“Wow. That’s incredible.”

He accessed Tyler’s app and was excited to realizehe’d activated it in time. He played the video of the person tryingto break in, holding it so Aja Blue could watch.

The man wore sunglasses and a black fedora. Hispicture briefly flashed before he slammed the phone down, probablyafter reading the message that he was busted.

“Christian, go back.” He did as asked, and shegrabbed his arm. “Oh, my God, it’s Johnny Cash. Look at thehat.”

She was right—it was the same cap, meaning this wasthe man following her. A shiver of unease snaked down Christian’sspine. How had he known she was going to be on the yacht? And if hehad the phone, that meant he was close.

“Aja Blue, darling, there you are. I’ve been lookingeverywhere for you.”

Christian turned to see a woman dripping with jewelsapproach them. Expertly coifed silver hair framed her face, and herroyal-blue gown probably cost more than the GNP of many smallnations. She air-kissed each of Aja Blue’s cheeks.

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Sinclair. Thank you forinviting us to the gala and for establishing the scholarship inJay’s name. I can’t tell you what it means to me.”

“You’re more than welcome, dear. Happy to help.”

“Mrs. Sinclair, this is my date, ChristianZamora.”

Christian shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”When she didn’t release his hand, he gently removed it. He did notlike the predatory way she looked at him, nor the saucy wink.

A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes stoppedbeside them, and Mrs. Sinclair took one, handing it to Aja Blue.Christian declined her offer. He needed to be alert, especially nowthat it looked as if there might be a threat nearby.

“I need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking ofsomething I want to add to the pool house.”

As Aja Blue and Mrs. Sinclair talked about theirproject, a thought struck Christian. Johnny Cash assumed he wasgetting her old phone. There must have been something on there hewas looking for. Before he could call Kayne or Presley, Tyler’sface popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Tyler.”

“Z, I got an alert about the phone we issued AjaBlue.”

“Yeah, someone bumped into her and stole it. Can yourun the prints? It’s the guy who’s been following her. Also, theythought they were getting her old phone. Can you check it foranything that might be worth stealing?”

“On it. I’ll hit you back.”

He disconnected and called Kayne.

“Hey, everything okay?”

Christian explained about the incident outside theboat. “I need you guys to stand by.”

“On it. We’ll await your call.”

Aja Blue was still talking to Mrs. Sinclair—orlistening. She took a drink and nodded along while the older womanprattled on. The air of money and privilege emanated from Mrs.Sinclair. He didn’t know her, but he could tell she thought she wasbetter than everyone else because of the size of her bankaccount.

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