He left the scenario suspended between them and something clicked. Deven remembered the man with the locs, the one she thought was following them at the mall months prior. Fear, then guilt coursed through her like a bolt of lightning. Was the mystery man Kennedy’s stalker? Oh God, she should’ve said something. She should’ve known.

Benji must have noticed how ashen she became because he touched her hand. “Deven, what is it?”

“The mall,” she whispered. “Kennedy and I went to the Fashion District a few months ago and there was this guy. I didn’t think he was following us, but I saw him a couple times while we were shopping.”

“What did he look like? Can you describe him?”

“Um, he had locs,” she said. “Black guy, kind of tall, I think handsome . . .” Deven closed her eyes, trying to picture that day. But she was met with scraps of memory and a vague image of a man with a face too blurry to pull details from. “Dammit. I don’t remember. What does her ex look like?”

Benji shook his head. “No, it’s not him. I promise you.”

She started to ask how he could be so sure but decided she would rather not know. Nor could she trust he would be 100% honest, especially if he was doing something illegal. She thought for a moment, the next idea causing her to jump to her feet.

“Wait, what if it’s not him, but another somebody,” she said. “Kennedy told me she had started seeing someone. Maybe she’s got some kind of proof of the new guy around here. You think?”

Benji’s eyebrows drew together in consideration. “That’s possible. Did she tell you if she was going out of town with someone, or by herself?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Okay, I’ll keep looking around in here and see if I can find something, maybe even proof of her trip to the Dominican Republic. You check in the bedroom.”

It was probably just her paranoia, but Deven got the feeling he was trying to steer her out of this room. But she was too focused to worry about it right then. The possibility of this being a step in the right direction was way too coincidental to ignore.

She nodded and made a beeline for the bedroom, leaving Benji to look, or hell, not look. She didn’t care at that point. A friend of his or not, Kennedy was her sister. And she would figure out what the hell was going on. Even if she had to do it alone.