Chapter 17 #2
She was quiet for a moment, processing everything. Then she looked up at me with those clear, steady eyes. “It’s not your fault, Tate. If they were that close and that careful, no one would have seen them.”
I shook my head. “I should have—”
“Stop.” She stood and crossed to me, taking my hands in hers. “You’re doing everything you can. You’ll figure this out.”
I wanted to pull her into my arms. Wanted to hold her and promise that I’d keep her safe, that I’d never let anyone hurt her. But Xavier was still downstairs, as was her mother, and the moment felt fragile, and there was work to be done.
“I need to go through the guest list,” I said instead. “Look for connections we might have missed.”
Stella nodded. “I’ll be in my workroom if you need me.”
We went our separate ways and I spent the rest of the afternoon buried in data.
The guest list for the gala was extensive—over three hundred names, not counting the catering staff, security personnel, and event coordinators.
I cross-referenced each one against the list of people Charles had previously prosecuted over his career, looking for any connection, any overlap.
It was tedious, painstaking work. Names blurred together.
My eyes burned from staring at the laptop screen.
By evening, I’d identified five people who might have professional grudges against Charles—fellow attorneys who’d lost cases to him or been humiliated by him in court.
It wasn’t much, but it was a starting point.
Still, something nagged at me. These were lawyers, professionals who understood that you won some and lost some.
Would any of them really go this far over courtroom losses?
The photographs, the threats, the careful stalking—it all spoke of deep, personal hatred.
Something that had been festering for years.
A lost case didn’t breed that kind of obsession. This was something else.
Then it hit me—the party photographer. Every event like this hired a professional photographer to document the evening, capturing images that would later appear on websites and social media.
If I could get access to those photos, along with any amateur shots taken by guests, I could reconstruct the entire night and see what I’d missed in real-time.
Maybe catch a glimpse of whoever had gotten close enough to Stella to take those disturbing pictures.
I pulled up Stella’s social media. Sure enough, the event organizers had posted a gallery of photos, with Stella tagged in several.
The photographer was credited—a professional service based in Henderson.
I started compiling every photo I could find from the evening.
The official ones and the ones guests had posted to their own accounts.
It would take forever to sort through them all but I knew somewhere in that digital haystack was the needle I was looking for.
* * *
The next morning, I met with Sutton at the Noble and Associates offices after Xavier once again stood in as security for me at the Hayward’s.
“I need help,” I admitted, spreading my materials across the conference table. “Someone to go through all the photos from that night and reconstruct the evening minute by minute. I’d do it myself, but I can’t focus on analyzing all this in-depth data and protect Stella at the same time.”
Sutton studied my work, his expression thoughtful. “Kane could do it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Kane?”
Kane was solid—a former detective with Las Vegas PD, with sharp instincts and an excellent eye for detail.
But he also had a significant chip on his shoulder when it came to law enforcement.
He’d been framed during his time on the force, and the experience had left him deeply suspicious of prosecutors and the justice system in general.
Asking him to help protect an attorney’s family might not go over well.
“He’ll do it,” Sutton said firmly, reading my hesitation. “Whatever his feelings about the system, this is an innocent woman in danger. Kane won’t say no to that.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Sutton’s smile was small but confident. “Kane has a strong sense of justice, even if he doesn’t always trust the people who are supposed to enforce it.”
I found Kane in his office a few minutes later and outlined the situation. He listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable.
“Sounds like grunt work,” he said when I finished.
“Unfortunately,” I agreed. “But it’s not something I can trust to a computer program. I need human eyes on this, someone who can spot things an algorithm would miss.”
“An old-fashioned approach.” Kane’s mouth quirked. “Finally something we agree on.”
I walked him through what I needed—every photo from the event compiled and organized chronologically, with special attention to anyone in Stella’s vicinity.
The photographer had to have gotten close to her multiple times, which meant they appeared in other people’s shots.
If we could identify a pattern, catch someone showing up again and again. ..
Kane nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Anything else?”
“Just... anything that stands out to you.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Trust your instincts.”
“Will do.”
I drove back to the Hayward estate and Xavier met me at the door, reporting that everything had been quiet in my absence.
I found Stella in her workroom, bent over her sewing machine, a cascade of deep emerald fabric spilling across her worktable. She looked up when I entered, and her smile hit me like a punch to the chest.
“You’re back.” She set aside the fabric she’d been working with. “Did you find anything?”
“We’re working on it.” I gave her a brief summary of the plan—Kane analyzing the photos and the search for connections. Her brow furrowed as she listened, but she didn’t interrupt.
“So, we wait,” she said when I finished.
I nodded. “For now.”
I wanted to tell her more. Wanted to promise that I’d fix this and keep her safe, but words felt inadequate against the weight of what I was feeling.
Because it wasn’t just about protecting a client anymore.
It was about protecting her—this woman who’d gotten under my skin and into my heart without me even realizing it was happening.
This woman who made me want things I’d never let myself want before.
As long as this threat hung over her, we were bodyguard and client. I couldn’t look at what was growing between us properly, couldn’t give it the attention it deserved while someone out there was plotting to hurt her.
I had to find the person who was doing this, to end the threat so we could finally be free to really discover what we were to each other.
I just had to figure out who the hell this bastard was.