“No, but I’m betting my anger can beat his any day.”

Eric glanced back and forth between them. “I’m guessing Mark checked out?”

“Yeah,” Layla responded. “He’s got a shiny new tat on his chest—really nice, detailed work, by the way, I might have to see him for my next piece—but no stab wound. He’s clear.”

“I’ve got someone you might want to check out,” Eric announced, tension evident in his body. “Because I was able to track down the person who really sent that email to Grady. Sure, the fellow tapped into Piper’s email address, but he didn’t do it from anywhere near here. In fact, the guy was located in Savannah, and I believe it was—”

“Dante Fallon?” Piper supplied.

Eric frowned at her.

Layla patted his shoulder. “You’re a little late to the party. Come in my office, and we’ll bring you up to speed.”

***

“I remember him.” Eric’s fingers tightened on the neck of the beer bottle in his hand. They were back at his house—finally back, after one hell of a day. The cops in Savannah and Atlanta—and all points in between—were searching for Dante Fallon. His face had been flashed to the media, and the public had learned that the guy was a person of interest in a murder investigation.

Layla was confident that he’d be found by dawn.

Eric had his own staff members looking for the guy. He had access to every credit card the fellow possessed. His team was looking for Dante’s digital footprint. If the cops didn’t find him, Wilde would.

He took a swig of the beer. “He was at the gallery the day I came to install your security system there.” He could have sent a junior tech over to do the job, but he’d wanted to go himself. After all, it was Piper. “Nervous guy with long hair that kept falling into his eyes. He wanted to take you to lunch.” Shit, the scene was so clear in his head. “I told him to fuck off because we were working.”

She sat on the couch, clad in a pair of yoga pants and a loose top. Her legs were curled under her. She looked small and delicate and heart-breakingly sexy. “Jessica took him to lunch that day. It was the first time she went out with him.” Piper had a glass of wine in her hand. As he watched, she lifted the wine to her lips. Only Piper didn’t sip the wine. She chugged it, draining that glass and then setting it down, a bit too hard, on the nearby table. “Dammit, that was the day she started talking so much about him. About how different he was.” She hauled the back of her hand over her cheek.