Trust Me

way he got Tate’s other communications. Via email.”
    Desdemona widened her eyes as she realized what that implied. “That means that the blackmail note we found was a phony left by the client after the murder in order to make Tony look guilty,” Desdemona concluded. “To provide a fake motive for him.”
    “I said it’s a possibility.” Stark shot Tony an irritated look. “A remote one.”
    “Yeah. Real remote,” Tony agreed sarcastically. “If we rewrite the script so that you’re the bad guy, the logic works even better.”
    “Neither of you is the bad guy,” Desdemona said forcefully. “Now, let’s continue. We have a real bad guy in this play. Someone we have not yet identified. We have to find him.”
    “We?” Stark’s brow rose. “That’s what the cops are paid to do.”
    Desdemona grimaced. “Don’t be an idiot, Stark. We can’t go to the cops at this juncture. They might jump to the wrong conclusions.”
    “You mean they might decide that Tony was guilty?” Stark nodded solemnly. “True. They might. I hadn’t thought of that.”
    “The hell you hadn’t,” Tony said.
    “As I was saying,” Desdemona continued determinedly, “no one is going to the cops just yet. First we’ve got to try to find Vernon’s real client.” She looked expectantly at Stark.
    He gazed steadily back at her.
    “Well?” Desdemona prompted.
    “Well, what?” Stark asked.
    “How do you plan to go about finding Vernon’s real client?” Desdemona asked patiently. “The person who killed him?”
    “Why are you looking at me?” Stark asked.
    “Because you’re the security expert,” Desdemona said patiently.
    “Damn,” Stark said.
    Desdemona smiled with relief. “I knew you’d agree to help.”

    He was the security expert, all right. Stark was still berating himself for being an idiot as he followed Desdemona into the parking garage beneath her apartment building.
    How the hell had he allowed Desdemona to manipulate him into helping that screwup brother of hers? he wondered for what must have been the thousandth time.
    She had caused him to break his most cherished rule. He had stopped thinking and acting with the rational side of his brain. Instead, he had been sucked down into the chaos of emotion. Here in the sorcerer’s cauldron, nothing was fixed in logic. Every move was treacherous and unpredictable.
    His blood ran cold as he recalled Tony’s attempt to persuade Desdemona that her lover was the real criminal mastermind behind a complex conspiracy.
    It hadn’t even struck Stark until now that, if one chose to shine a certain light on the subject, he could conceivably be made to look as guilty as Tony Wainwright.
    Perhaps more so.
    After all, Stark thought, chagrined, a disinterested observer could claim that he was the one who knew the major players involved in the world of illegal international technology deals.
    He was also far more intimately acquainted with computers than Tony Wainwright was. Tony was good, but he was an amateur compared to Stark.
    And there was another bit of damning evidence on hand, Stark reminded himself. He was the one who had hired Desdemona as a caterer and then seduced her, thereby setting the whole damned game in motion.
    He was forced to acknowledge that Wainwright had a point. It was an inescapable fact that the attempted theft of ARCANE and the killing of Vernon Tate had taken place after Stark and Desdemona had formed a relationship. Viewed from that perspective, Stark thought, he was an excellent candidate for the role of the bad guy.
    Jealousy was considered one of the classic motives for violence. Stark told himself that he wasn’t the jealous type, but he wasn’t certain anyone would believe it.
    Thank God Desdemona had been no more interested in that scenario than she had been in the one that portrayed Tony as the villain.
    Stark pulled into a slot, parked his car, and switched off the engine. He sat behind the wheel for a moment, watching Desdemona climb out of her Toyota. She waved at him over the roof of her car.
    An eerie sensation washed over him as he gazed at her. His whole body tensed as though to do battle with some unseen threat.
    Damn. He was perfectly capable of feeling jealousy.
    The knowledge left him shaken. He finally opened the car door and got out.
    “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” Desdemona asked as he walked toward her through the silent garage.
    Stark glanced at his watch. “I think so. Macbeth is with Kyle