By the time they hit the light by the Shell station at Dorn Avenue, two cars had come between them. Tiphanii took a left and headed up the four-laner … and then stayed on it across Broadsboro Lane to Hilltop, the Halloween road, where the houses went all out during October. Over the railroad tracks and a right on Franklin, which was home to all kinds of little shops and cafés that were locally owned.

When Tiphanii parallel-parked four blocks up, Lizzie went by her, the three of them staring out the front windshield like absolutely nothing was doing—with their hats down low.

A trio of bobbleheads without the bobbling.

At the next light, she pitched an abrupt left through an orange signal and hurried down the alley behind the restaurants and shops. When she thought she’d gone far enough, she punched the brakes and lucked out by finding a spot right there.

“Let’s do this,” she clipped as she canned the engine and popped her door. “And get ready to say hi to the dogs.”

“What?” Jeff asked as he got out. “Dogs?”

Lane gave her a salute when he was free of the cab. “Whatever she says, we’re gonna do.”

Lizzie led the way through an alley that was barely bigger than her shoulders. Just before she got to the end, she stopped short. “Oh, my God, there she is.”

Across Franklin Ave., Tiphanii got out of her beater and jogged through the traffic. In the shadows, Lizzie leaned forward a little so she could see where the woman was heading.

“Knew it. She’s going into Blue Dog. Come on.”

Lizzie jumped out into the pedestrians who were chilling their way down the sidewalk, and a mere fifteen feet later, she bent over an English bulldog who, she learned by the collar’s tag, was named Bicks. Meanwhile, Tiphanii was just inside the café, right in front of its plate-glass window.

She was shaking hands with a tall African-American woman.

“That’s the reporter I met with,” Lane said as he and Jeff clustered around Bicks. All three of them waved back at Bicks’s apparent owner, who was smiling and nodding at them from inside the consignment shop next door. “And yup, she’s giving her something. Some papers.”

Jeff nodded. “Bingo.”

“What’s the paperwork?” Lizzie asked.

Jeff spoke in hushed tones as he shifted over to pet a mutt named Jolene. “It’s a false report I left out for her last night. There’s a copier down the hall in the second-story study. All she had to do was sneak out, make the xeroxes, and put the document back where she found it. Work of two minutes.”

“She spent the night?” Lizzie said. “With you?”

“Ah …”

Lizzie laughed. “I’m asking as part of our assignment here, not because I’m judging.”

As the guy blushed, she was reminded of how much she liked him.

“Okay, yes, she did,” he said, pushing up his glasses. “That was the plan. And we need that information to hit the airways, thank you very much.”

Lane leaned in and kissed her. “Good work getting us here, and now if you’ll excuse me for a minute.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to go say hi to that reporter. LaKeesha and I are old friends after she grilled me for two hours. And listen, she hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not her fault that a source has come to her with information they found somewhere—and what better way to further develop our relationship than to tell her about all the shake-ups and our promotions. Jeff, I’m going to set up a meeting between the two of you for seven o’clock tonight. I don’t want her first impression of you to be when you look like a hobo. You need a shave and a fresh suit before you represent my company to the press. Oh, and it’s time to fire Tiphanii with two i’s at the end. Just not in front of my good buddy the reporter.”

“Let me take care of that,” Lizzie said.

“That would be a huge help.”

After he kissed her again, he straightened to his full height and walked into the café.

Through the big glass window, Lizzie watched the two women turn to him and Tiphanii stumble back. But Lane was all smiles, shaking hands, talking. The reporter looked at him intently—and then Lane turned to the young woman.

He was totally in control of himself, and she could just imagine his level voice, excusing the maid, leaving her on the hot seat.

He’s doing it, Lizzie thought with pride.

Her future husband was … becoming a leader. A family head. A man, instead of a playboy.

A moment later, Tiphanii came out, but she didn’t get far as Jeff stepped in her path. Lizzie thought she might better give them privacy, but as Bicks the bulldog and Jolene stared at the drama, she figured what the heck, so would she.

“Ah …” The maid was as red as a tomato. “Jeff. So, um, this is not what it looks like—”

“Oh, come on.” The guy shook his head. “Stop. I’ll have more respect for you if you don’t try to pretend.”

“And I’m sorry, Tiphanii,” Lizzie said, “but your services are no longer required at Easterly. I’m terminating you effective immediately, and if you’re smart, you’ll just walk away.”

The woman’s face changed, growing ugly. “I know things. And not just about the finances. I know a lot of things about what goes on in that house. I’m not the kind of enemy that family needs right now.”

“There’s a nondisclosure clause in your contract,” Lizzie snapped. “I’m aware of this because there’s one in mine, too.”

“You think I care about that.” Tiphanii moved a very expensive bag up onto her shoulder. “You haven’t heard the last from me.”

As she strode off into traffic, Lizzie shook her head. “That went well.”

“Maybe she’ll get run over as she crosses—nope, made it. Pity.” When Lizzie shot him a look, the guy put up a palm. “I’m from New York. What do you want from me.”

FORTY

Half an hour later, Lane was feeling pretty damn good about things as he and Lizzie and Jeff headed back to Easterly in her truck. LaKeesha was dying to meet the new CEO, and the fact that Lizzie had handled Tiphanii? Fantastic.

The bliss didn’t last, though. As they crested the rise to the mansion’s front door, there was an unmarked police car and a CMP SUV parked in the courtyard.