Page 31 of Mistletoe and Malice
Probably Caitlyn, which was even worse. “That’s a viable assumption. Caitlyn Mulaney was a social media influencer. See if you can back-check her old account. Maybe this photo was originally posted there.”
“That’s some kind of twisted, if this girl is indeed Miss Mulaney.”
“You might also see if you can find that image of the Hudson exec. See who’s really in that photo.”
“Copy. We’ll keep working it and see if we can get anything on whoever set up this account in her name. We’ll also get it taken down.”
“Good work. Thanks.”
He disconnected and clicked over to Riley’s actual page. Scrolling through, he found images of nature overlaid with Scripture verses, photos of her with her friends on various trips or working at a charity function. In fact, the majority of her posts centered on her charities—their objective, how to get involved, how to give.
Not one thing about any of her cases, although others had posted either congrats for another win or their opposing opinion. If anybody compared the two accounts, they would see the cloned one couldn’t be hers.
Unless she was living a double life, and he knew that wasn’t the case. No way could she fit another life into her already packed schedule.
No, the Riley he’d come to know was the authentic Riley Hudson. He’d bet a year’s salary on it.
Did this attempt to discredit her go back to last week’s attack?
Or were they missing an even bigger picture?
Chapter Fifteen
Riley bounded down the back stairs in gray sweatpants, crimson Harvard sweatshirt, and thick, white socks, her defense against the cold from the storm that still howled outside. She’d slept later than usual, jumping out of bed at a quarter past nine. Leaving her face clean, she’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and called it good. No need to get prettied up to work from home all day.
“Good morning, Hilda.” She kissed the cheek of the cook she’d known since she was nine years old.
“Hi, sweetie.” Hilda scooped pancakes from a griddle onto a plate with eggs, bacon, and hash browns. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Except for the nightmare. The same one she’d had too many times over the past week. That voice. So near her ear. The arm pressed against her neck. Something he said …
She gave herself a mental shake. “Too late, probably.”
“Nonsense. It’s Saturday. Get all the rest you need.”
She took the plate Hilda held out to her. “You’re the best. This looks fantastic.”
“Eat up.”
“I plan to,” she answered with a wink as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“The others are in the dining room, dear. Everybody got a later start today.”
“Thanks.”
She backed through the swinging door, turned, and stopped. “Colton? What are you doing here? You had strict orders to go home and not report back until four.”
He grinned at her. “You think you’re giving the orders, huh?”
“But of course.” She set her plate down. “Good morning, Mom. Daddy.” Before she took her seat, she walked to the end of the long, cherry wood table and hugged her grandfather from behind. “Good morning, Gramps.”
“Good morning, sugar. Glad you could join us.”
Riley took the seat next to Colton, across from her parents, and picked up the syrup to douse her pancakes. “Why are you here so early?”
“I, uh … I never left.”
“Never left?” She cut a three-layer bite and picked it up with her fork, syrup dripping onto her plate and the scent of maple mixed with vanilla making her stomach growl. “Why? Roads bad?”
