Chapter 60

I knew it. Confirmation of my suspicions sent a wave of clarity washing over me. Sean was indeed the mastermind, with Mary as his willing accomplice.

I needed to get closer to him, to uncover his ultimate objective. An idea crystallized—inappropriate and decidedly reckless, but potentially effective. I smoothed my Chanel dress, artfully mussed my hair, and affected an exaggerated stagger as I moved forward.

"Whoops," I called out, deliberately slurring my speech. "Sorry, I didn't see you there!"

They turned simultaneously, Mary's eyes widening in alarm, Sean's narrowing calculatingly as he assessed the situation with typical precision.

I feigned ignorance, dramatically squinting as if struggling to focus. "Do I know you? You look terribly familiar..."

I took another step forward, then deliberately stumbled, pitching toward them with practiced helplessness. Sean instinctively reached out to steady me, his manicured hands gripping my arms with surprising firmness.

"Thank you," I giggled, perfectly embodying the intoxicated socialite. "Such a gentleman. Could you possibly escort me to the ladies' room? I'm feeling a bit... unsteady."

Sean hesitated momentarily, exchanging glances with Mary, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

"Of course," he replied smoothly. "This way."

I leaned against him, using the proximity to study him more intently. His cologne was expensive but subtle—Clive Christian, perhaps—his suit impeccably tailored to his athletic frame, his entire demeanor exuding cultivated wealth and power. This was a man accustomed to acquiring precisely what he desired.

"You're very handsome," I slurred, reaching up to adjust his silk tie with exaggerated concentration. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

He smiled thinly, the expression never reaching his calculating eyes. "Occasionally."

From my peripheral vision, I spotted Hunter at the end of the corridor, observing us with unmistakable intensity. His expression darkened visibly as he processed the scene. Without uttering a word, he turned and strode away, his broad shoulders rigid with what appeared to be tightly controlled anger.

Perfect. Not only might I extract valuable information from Sean, but Hunter's evident jealousy was an unexpected bonus. Let him believe I'd moved on with such alacrity. Let him imagine I was pursuing Sean. The more confused and distracted Hunter became, the better my chances of proceeding with my investigation unimpeded.

I deliberately stumbled again, compelling Sean to tighten his grip around my waist. "Sorry," I giggled. "These Louboutins are absolutely treacherous."

"Perhaps you should sit down," Sean suggested, guiding me toward a discreet alcove with a velvet-upholstered bench.

"How tremendously thoughtful," I remarked, allowing him to direct me. Once seated, I noticed Mary observing us from the opposite end of the corridor, her expression a fascinating mixture of suspicion and calculation.

"You know," I ventured, shifting closer until our shoulders made contact, "I feel we have unfinished business to discuss. About... building permits, wasn't it?" I deliberately referenced our previous professional encounter, carefully monitoring his reaction.

A flash of surprise briefly crossed his features before he composed himself, transforming his expression into one of polite confusion. "I believe you're confusing me with someone else," he replied with practiced smoothness. "We've never discussed building permits."

"Really?" I blinked with exaggerated confusion. "I must have made a mistake. Everything seems so terribly fuzzy right now." I waved my hand vaguely near my temple.

I moved even closer, placing my hand on his knee with manufactured familiarity. Through my peripheral vision, I observed Mary's expression hardening, her posture becoming increasingly rigid with evident displeasure.

"Maybe we should still discuss it," I continued, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been reconsidering your... proposal. Perhaps we can reach an agreeable arrangement after all."

Sean's eyes sharpened with unmistakable interest, like a predator sensing vulnerability. "Is that so? You seemed quite resistant previously."

"I've reconsidered my position," I said, maintaining a slightly unfocused gaze while my cognitive faculties remained perfectly sharp.

"This is most intriguing," he replied, studying me with renewed attention. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation when you're more... clear-headed."

I giggled again, leaning against his shoulder as if requiring support. "Or perhaps now is precisely the perfect time."

Sean's smile tightened marginally. He was suspicious, certainly, but also undeniably curious. I could leverage that tension advantageously.

"Tell me, Mr. Parker," I continued, deliberately slurring his name, "what would it take to make certain... legal complications disappear? You should know, I'm exceptionally adept at making problems vanish."

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Are you offering your professional services, Ms. James?"

"Perhaps," I answered with an exaggerated wink. "For the appropriate client. For the right compensation."

Mary was now approaching with determined strides, her stilettos clicking sharply against the marble floor. Time was rapidly diminishing. I needed to plant seeds of doubt, create an opening I could exploit subsequently.

"You know," I whispered, leaning so close my lips nearly brushed his ear, "I've always been rather curious about your connection to Lyra Cole. What happened to her was such a devastating tragedy."

I felt him stiffen beside me. Bingo.

"What exactly are you implying?" His voice lost its cultivated smoothness, adopting a harder edge that confirmed I'd struck a significant nerve.

I pulled back, affecting bewilderment. "Implying? Nothing whatsoever! Just making conversation." I giggled again, patting his bespoke-suited chest. "You're being far too serious."

Mary reached us, her smile tight and meticulously controlled. "Sean, we need to depart. Our reservation is in twenty minutes."

I looked up at her, blinking slowly as if struggling to focus. "Mary? Is that you? I didn't even notice you there!"

Mary's expression remained fixed, her eyes glacial. "Jane, you seem... unwell. Should I summon someone for you?"

"Entirely unnecessary," I said, waving dismissively. "I'm perfectly fine. Just enjoying a pleasant conversation with your... friend."

I stood, swaying dramatically for theatrical effect. "Anyway, I should return to my gathering. They'll undoubtedly be wondering about my extended absence."

I took a deliberate step and feigned another stumble. Sean instinctively reached out to stabilize me, and I utilized the opportunity to press closer, my hand slipping deftly into his jacket pocket.

"Thank you again," I beamed at him. "Such a consummate gentleman."

As I walked away, I felt the reassuring weight of a small storage card I'd extracted from his pocket—diminutive enough to remain undetected but potentially containing precisely the evidence I required. It might hold nothing of significance, or it might be the crucial element that would fracture the case wide open. Either scenario justified the calculated risk.

I overheard Mary's urgent whisper behind me: "What did she say to you? What information does she possess?"

I didn't linger to hear Sean's response. My immediate priority was analyzing this storage card, to uncover whatever secrets it might reveal.

When I rejoined the reunion, I observed Hunter watching me from across the elegantly appointed room, his expression dark and inscrutable. Let him formulate whatever conclusions he wished. I had considerably more significant concerns than his jealousy at present.