Stewart regarded me, nothing alerting him. I set down my cup and wiped at my eyes. Then I gave an Oscar-worthy performance. I leaned forward, earnest and upset.
“Nothing, Deb. The man doesn’t exist. The police have zilch. Some blurry footage that might be nothing. No clues. I don’t even know if it was Andy or a random act.”
“But you run a security firm.”
I scrubbed my face. “I can protect her if she’s here and someone comes at her. My men are brawny and strong. I don’t hire them for their brains.” I tapped my head. “Some of them are pretty empty up here.”
“I heard that,” Leo muttered in my ear.
I coughed into my hand to cover my smirk. “We protect celebrities, oversee events. I’m not a cop or some kind of detective. I have nothing to go on.”
“Have you thought of the fact that perhaps she went willingly?” Stewart asked, his eyes narrowed. “Perhaps she was tired of your overprotective attitude.”
I was getting to him. I noticed his eyeglasses were wrong. As Stew, he’d worn sleek black frames. Jeff wore rounder ones. He was wearing those. Another small error.
“It crossed my mind. But she would have told me and broken it off.”
“Are you sure? Some women like to play games.”
Deb turned to him. “Raven isn’t like that, and I don’t like your tone.”
He put his arm around her, backtracking. “Sorry, dollface. I was just playing devil’s advocate.”
I waved my hands. “It’s fine. I wondered when we found her purse if she didn’t leave it behind so I couldn’t trace her phone. But I realized how stupid that sounded.”
“Do you have any other trackers on her?”
Another mistake. A finance guy wouldn’t know about shit like that.
“Other trackers?” I asked with a frown. “I’m not a PI. My company protects people from overzealous fans or exes with grudges. We’re not in the spy business.” I huffed out a sorrowful sigh. “I wish I were.”
“Right,” he said, lifting his cup to his lips. But I saw his smirk.
“Out,” Marcus whispered.
“Done,” Julian said. “Thank God. I need a shower.”
Stew frowned, looking at his phone. I cleared my throat twice, pounding my chest. “Sorry, the coffee went down wrong.”
“Sorry. That was me. We should be fine now. I need ten more minutes, Damien. Stall.” Egan’s voice was low.
“Deb, can you think of anything unusual?” I asked.
Stew relaxed, putting away his phone, and I focused on Deb.
“No. Nothing. Everything seemed fine. Then she was gone.”
I nodded. “Vanished.”
“You have to find her,” she whispered. “I feel terrible recommending that site to her. I had met some nice guys through it. It brought her nothing but trouble.”
I patted her hand. “You couldn’t have known. The guy who owned it had no idea he had a nutjob infiltrating his system.”
“He couldn’t help?”
“No, we helped him—well, my guy helped him tighten his security, but he had nothing. This Andy was too smart for us all.” I almost choked saying that, but it worked since the last part came out muffled as if I was holding back tears.
Deb covered her mouth, stifling a sob. Stew gave a great performance of comforting her.