CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I need a break,” I grumbled. My head fell back on the couch, wishing my husband would hurry home with our take-out food. I stared at the ceiling. “They’re all starting to look the same again.”
Jonathan nodded and tapped on his silver bracelet, making the images disappear. “We can wait until tomorrow to continue. It is getting late again.”
I shook my head. “No, we can continue in just a bit. I need to give my eyes a break, though.”
Jonathan stood from the couch and walked to the window. “I have a question for you.”
“Hit me,” I mumbled.
“It’s actually about you hitting me.” He chuckled quietly, grasping his hands behind his back. “Why do you think he did that?”
My lips thinned. “I don’t know.”
“Theron told me your theory. And if you are correct, then that was out of character for Mr. Valentine.”
“Well, unless you know him, and he doesn’t like you.”
He hummed in approval. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Because even when he poisoned you, and I’m sure that was him, it was all geared toward making you and Mr. Wood mate. He showed that you could be killed, and Alaric took action.”
I raised my brows. “But you… Yes, I get what you’re saying. There was no reason for that.”
“Which means all these pictures we keep looking at are useless. If your theory is right, all the men I’m showing you I don’t know.” He shook his head of white hair, his eyes cast out on the pond. “We’re spinning our wheels once again.”
My stomach growled, but I ignored it.
He stood silent for a long second, and then asked, “Can you think of anyone at all who seemed especially thrilled about you and Mr. Wood marrying?”
I thought about it.
But my answer was simple.
“No, not really. No one outside the normal group.”
Jonathan sighed. “We’re missing something.”
My lips thinned into a straight line. “I can’t think of anything. Why don’t we look at more pictures, even if it’s useless? You never know, I might recognize someone.”
He turned to face me, his brows drawn together. “In a moment. I want to focus. This is what I do for a living.”
“All right.” I regarded him, waiting.
“I want to start at the beginning of your relationship. How did you and Mr. Wood meet? You don’t run in the same circles.”
“I went through Marriage Match.”
His head jerked back in surprise. “Mr. Wood was registered at Marriage Match? He was a perpetual bachelor as far as I knew.”
“I guess he was. That’s the only way they’d have his address. The company messed up the match, though. I was sent to the wrong house…” I trailed off, my eyes meeting his as a thought occurred. “That’s a little convenient and absurd, isn’t it? If you’re looking for how I met him, it was an error in their system.”
“Mr. Valentine has been known in the past to be technically savvy.” He cracked his neck. “Did Mr. Wood check this out?”
“I know he paid them the high bid twice over. I don’t know what he said to them exactly, though.”
“You said that you guessed he was in their system. Didn’t you ask him?”
“No. But, like I said, the address came from them.”
“Did Mr. Wood act surprised knowing that they had his address?” He stepped forward, on the prowl to the couch.
“Um… Actually, I think I just said I went to the wrong address. I don’t know if I ever mentioned specifically that Marriage Match had it.”
He sat down. “How did you receive this address?
“The message came from Marriage Match.”
“Dammit.” He sighed heavily and leaned back. “That doesn’t help. Mr. Valentine would have covered his tracks there if it was him.”
I turned my attention to the window and stared outside into the dark night. “I think…”
“What?”
“Well, there is something that’s a little off.”
“Explain.” His gaze darted to me. “All the details.”
“The worker who did my application. You asked if anyone was excited about Alaric and I getting together. He was excited and big like a shifter.” Furrowed brows, I thought for a moment. “That’s random, though. I may be reaching a little too far.”
“What did he look like?”
I snorted. “I actually have a picture of him. He sent it to me.” I shook my head. “Mr. Valentine wouldn’t do that. He’d never willingly show his face.”
“When you see the predator it’s already too late,” he murmured absently, staring off into nothing. His forehead wrinkled, and his gaze found mine again, a new urgency in his tone. “Show me the picture.”
I shrugged and tapped on my bracelet, scrolling through to find it. I mumbled, “I doubt this is him. This guy was nice.”
“Anyone can be nice when they have an agenda.” Jonathan sat up on the couch, coming to attention.
I stopped on the picture. Tapped it, and a hologram appeared before me with my smiling face and his next to mine. “That’s him. He did the application for me.”
Jonathan froze on the couch next to me.
His jaw started to slacken slightly and then snapped closed. His teeth clicked in the quiet of the room. He gargled an odd noise in the back of his throat, a half choke of some sort.
I scanned his profile, my heart rate speeding. “Do you know him?”
One short nod.
“And?” I probed.
Jonathan shook his head. “This can’t be right.”
“In what way?”
We were on the edge of a cliff, dangling over.
He hissed, “That shifter is dead.”