Jilly picked up the cameras while checking in with the Mendez family Sunday afternoon. They were boxed and waiting for her, and Rosie just knew that it had been Devlin who’d gone over there, taken the cameras down, and placed them on the porch.

Liz and Jilly were going to review the tapes, and Rosie was planning to have the audio cleared by tonight, Monday by the latest, and that meant her ears needed to be glued to her headphones, but that wasn’t what she was doing.

Instead, she was still in bed, lying on her side, and internet stalking Devlin de Vincent.

Not exactly one of her proudest moments.

But here she was, for the last . . . Lord, how many hours had she been at this? Too many hours, but there was a lot of stuff out there on the internet about Devlin, from when he was child up until the more recent weeks, where news of his broken engagement with the missing Harrington heiress was discussed.

There were articles about their mother and some of them seemed to revel in how her life had come to a jarring end, going into grotesque detail about how she’d jumped from the roof of their home. All these old, archived articles mentioned something that Rosie had forgotten.

The sister had gone missing the same night their mother had committed suicide.

Madeline de Vincent.

No one ever talked about her now, did they? In the news, at least. She wasn’t sure if the brothers did. If they wondered what happened to their sister. She imagined it must’ve been the hardest for Lucian since he and Madeline were fraternal twins.

There were several pieces on their father’s death, and it made Rosie think about how he never called the man Father or Dad. It was always Lawrence. And that was . . . odd.

And she’d found a plethora of pictures of Devlin and his ex-fiancée. Rosie had a vague memory of what the woman looked like, having briefly seen her pictures in the papers over the years, but she had forgotten how beautiful she was.

There was a picture of them that she found herself staring at for a creepy amount of time, but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away from it. They stood side by side, both dressed as if they were at some kind of gala. Devlin looked . . . goodness, he looked like a god dressed in a black tux, and Sabrina looked like a goodness. Her blond hair was pulled up in a chic, elegant twist and her pale skin as flawless as her bright red smile. She wore a gorgeous black strapless dress that was tight down to her knees and then billowed out.

If Rosie wore a dress like that, she would look five inches shorter and about fifty pounds heavier, but someone as tall and thin as Sabrina was, she looked like a Parisian model.

They were utterly beautiful together.

And there wasn’t an ounce of warmth between them in the photo.

In any of the photos of them.

But it was so evident in this one, it was painful to even look at. Their posture and stance were stiff as a board. Sabrina’s smile was perfect, but the slight narrowing of her eyes showed annoyance. Devlin, on the other hand, looked cold and aloof standing beside her. What little she did know about their relationship was evident in the pictures of them.

These two people didn’t love one another. Rosie wasn’t sure if they even liked each other. Why would combining two fortunes be worth being stuck, even if it was only by name, to someone you couldn’t stand? There had to be more than that.

At least Rosie hoped so, because what did that say about Devlin to have gone along with his father’s wishes for so long?

Closing the laptop, she rolled onto her back. There were things mentioned in the most scandalous of articles, stories about how many deaths and mysterious illnesses plagued the de Vincent family over the many decades. The curse was brought up. They were stories that Rosie had already known, because they fed the whole mythology of the de Vincent curse.

But these deaths and disappearances were very real. These were once living and breathing people. Family. Not myths and entertaining stories to be gossiped about. If this was her family, she’d probably feel the same way Devlin did when it came to protecting his family. There really was no wonder he was so . . . paranoid.

A kernel of guilt blossomed in her stomach when she thought about how she’d researched the curse and the haunting. She had done so without really ever considering the fact that these were real people. She was so detached from it all until now.

She dragged her teeth over her lower lip as her thoughts wandered their way back to the one thing she had noticed; the one thing she couldn’t unsee.

Not that what it said about Devlin should matter to her, but there wasn’t a single picture of him smiling and these photos she found on the internet spanned years . He wasn’t smiling in the ones taken with his brothers or his father. Not even older ones when he was a teenager and with his mother, who was as blonde and fair as Lucian. He was always so incredibly . . . still in the pictures. If his eyes were closed, he would appear to be standing asleep or . . . dead.

God, that’s how he appeared, as if he were dead.

Rosie didn’t know a lot about near-death experiences beyond a few cases she’d read on the internet or the psychological and biological explanations of what people experienced when death was seconds away. But she had read about those experiences changing someone.

She wondered if Sarah had any insight on that that went beyond the science of it all, because Googling it would be a rabbit hole she really didn’t need to fall down.

What was Devlin like before his accident? He’d been young, so even if he was a happy and carefree child, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d be the same as an adult. The personality was nowhere near set in stone at that age, but what if . . . what if the death had changed him?

“Too far,” Rosie murmured as she tucked a curl behind her ear. “I’m going too far.”

She didn’t know Devlin well enough to even begin to hazard a guess if his near-death experience had any impact on him.

And it didn’t matter if it did.

If there wasn’t anything to find at Lucian’s house, there wouldn’t be any reason to be in contact with him again. And if they did find something? Rosie knew what she needed to do.

She would remove herself from the case.

That was the only smart option. She and Devlin might’ve actually gotten along for several hours and she might’ve seen a different side of him, one that included smiles and laughter, but the man was complicated.

Too complicated.

And despite all that, he’d sparked an interest in her that needed to be squashed. She may not know everything about Devlin, but she knew enough that her interest would only grow, especially if the Devlin from last night was the real one, and that interest mixed with the attraction she felt even when she was mad at him . . . She was certain that meant only one thing.

It would not end well for her.

Rosie finally dragged her butt out of bed and reviewed the EVP recordings. Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She reviewed the EVP recordings while lying in bed. Once she was finished, when it close to seven in the evening, she headed over to Liz and Jilly’s house.

“Hey.” Liz led her into the living room, where Jilly was watching the film from Lucian’s house. “So how was last night?”

“It was actually good. We didn’t kill each other.”

Hitting pause on the laptop, Jilly pulled off her headphones. “I heard that. Good news.”

Rosie grinned as she sat in the moon chair they had under one of those hanging spider plants. “Yeah, so that’s kind of why I’m here.”

“I thought you just missed us.” Liz pouted as she sat by Jilly.

“I did. I swear.”

Jilly smirked. “No, you didn’t. So anything on the EVP?”

“Work. Work.” Liz leaned in, kissing Jilly’s cheek. “Good thing I love you.”

“Good thing you’re interested in the same things,” Rosie pointed out. “So, I’ve finished the EVP recordings. The crash and footstep sound I texted about when I got home this morning? It was picked up on the recorder. It’s pretty muted sounding but it can be enhanced.”

“Awesome.” Jilly placed the headsets on the coffee table.

“And there were a couple of things I’ve flagged for Lance,” Rosie continued, sliding down in the thick, cushioned chair. “There were a couple of other things that the recorder picked up. I swore one of them sounded like a name, when we were upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but I can’t make it out.”

Interest sparked in Liz’s eyes.

“I’m not sure what or if we’ve caught anything that will be conclusive, but I think we’re going to need to bring Sarah in, just in case. Have her do a walk-through.”

“Agreed.” Jilly let her arms rest on her knees. “You can do the walk—”

“So, back to the other reason why I’m here.” Rosie drew in a deep breath. After internet stalking Devlin and realizing that the more time she spent with him, the more she got wrapped up in him, she knew what she needed to do. “I’m going to remove myself from this—”

“Narrative?” Liz supplied helpfully.

Rosie laughed. “Kind of. I’m going to step away from this investigation.”

Jilly stared at her. “Come again? You can’t be for real. You’ve been obsessed with the whole de Vincent curse and haunting since I’ve known you. I know this isn’t the de Vincent manor, but this is one of their homes. I know you don’t seem to get along with Devlin, but I cannot believe you do not want to be involved in this.”

“Did things not go well last night?” Concern filled Liz’s gaze.

“No, things were actually pretty cool. I mean, he was a bit distracting during the EVP recording.” She paused, smiling. “Actually, he was kind of funny, but with my friend being involved with Gabriel, it just feels weird.”

Both of them stared at her.

“And even though I didn’t kill him last night, we haven’t really gotten along . . .” She trailed off, thinking of just how well they had gotten along Friday night before she told him about the reading. “Anyway, I just think it’s best for you guys to take this one over.”

“Wow,” Jilly murmured, still staring at her.

Liz leaned forward. “Did something happen between you two?”

“What?” Her stomach dipped. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because I’ve never known you to not want to work on a case,” Jilly replied, glancing at Liz before refocusing on Rosie. “And you pretty much squeaked out ‘what?’”

“I did not.” Her brows lowered.

Liz grinned. “You did.”

“So, I’m going to say something happened between you guys.”

Sliding even farther down in the moon chair, she sighed heavily. “I . . . okay, something did happen between us, and I’m not trying to hide it or anything like that, but it just feels weird to be a part of this investigation now. So, yeah.”

Jilly closed her laptop. “We’re going to need a little more detail than that.”

Rosie lifted her hands. “We kind of made out Friday night at the Masquerade. It’s not a big deal—”

“Um. That is kind of a big deal,” Liz said. “Isn’t he engaged?”

“They broke up,” she explained. “We made out and it was great. The man can kiss and . . . stuff, and we got along last night, but we really don’t like each other.”

“I always make out with people I don’t like,” Liz said blandly. “That’s why I’m with Jilly.”

Jilly snorted. “I feel like there is so much more you’re not telling us.”

All Rosie did was lift her brows and her hands again.

There was. There was a lot she wasn’t telling them and she wasn’t going to, because she figured enough people, including her, had whispered and gossiped about the de Vincents. And even if it wasn’t a de Vincent, Rosie wasn’t the ‘kiss and discuss with the girls’ type. She had no problem listening to other people talk about their love life, but for her, it was something private. She kept her business in her business.

Both girls knew this.

Liz groaned. “Okay. Fine. I will try to forget that my friend was all up close and personal with the Devil, but kudos to you for that. You basically made out with a celebrity.”

She grinned, but really didn’t want to think about the fact that she did make out with him, because it made her want to do it again, and she also knew that inevitably he’d tick her off again. “I’m going to text him your numbers, since I am sure he’ll freak if I gave his away. So, just a heads-up if you get a random call or text from an unknown number.”

“Cool.” Jilly leaned into Liz. “We’ll take it from here. I’m sure Devlin will be thrilled to work with us.”

A slow smile pulled at Rosie’s lips as a little bit of disappointment flickered in her chest. “Yeah, I’m sure he will be.”