As soon as they were gone, Lachlan studied the message.
“Cameras?” he asked, referring to the security cameras placed outside the studio. “Eredine had classes this morning, so this had to have happened between noon and three.”
Jock scowled. “Cameras are wiped.”
“This is bloody ridiculous. I take it the cameras into the security room have been wiped too?”
“Aye, sir.”
“From now on, only you, Pete, and Kyle, and whoever you absolutely trust, have access to the security booth. If that means paying overtime, I’ll do it. Understood?”
He nodded grimly. “Understood.”
Exasperated, he gestured to the mess. “Just … call the police.”
A murmur sounded from Jock’s earpiece. He turned to his boss. “Mac’s daughter is here. And apparently Mac just called from the hospital to say we’re to allow Ms. Penhaligon access to his office and his laptop.”
Understanding dawned. Mac kept copies of all the evidence and his notes on his laptop. He wanted her in on this investigation.
Christ Almighty.
The mere thought of Robyn poking her nose into his life and estate exhausted him.
But he wouldn’t defy Mac’s wishes.
“Hold off on calling the police.” He gestured to the message. “Not until Ms. Penhaligon has had a look. Get one of your boys to escort her here.”
Not ten minutes later, Robyn walked into the room. She had a large camera draped around her neck that looked like something a professional reporter used. How did that get past security?
Mac, he realized.
To Lachlan’s increasing irritation, he couldn’t tear his eyes off Mac’s daughter. He would have felt her presence even if he hadn’t been watching the door.
She had an undefinable energy. Robyn wasn’t a typical beauty, but something Lachlan couldn’t quite put his finger on made a person look at her. In Hollywood, an actor didn’t have to be physically perfect to be successful. They just needed to have that thing. Charisma. It couldn’t be taught. Years ago, his agent had tried to talk Mac into auditioning for work as an actor. Because he had it.
His daughter had inherited it.
Robyn’s gaze moved through Lachlan, washing over the wrecked studio. Her booted steps echoed off the damaged wooden floors as she strode across the space to stop at his side. A musky, floral scent surrounded her. She stared at the message:
I’ll make you see me.
And I’ll be the last thing you ever see.
xoxo
Robyn read the message out loud. She glanced up at him. The sunlight streamed in through the shattered glass doors and made her changeable irises seem a grayish green. “Well, that makes me feel better.”
Lachlan frowned. “What does?”
“Knowing I’m not the only one you piss off.”
8
Robyn
Lachlan’s expression turned so cold, I almost shivered.
“Do you think this is funny?” He motioned to the threat spray-painted on the studio mirrors. “Do you think finding my staff member trembling in a corner, terrified out of her mind, is funny?”
Remorse slapped the sarcasm out of me. “No. I apologize. Sometimes I open my mouth without thinking.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he glared at the mirrors.
“Is she okay? Your staff member?”
His gaze returned to me. Guarded. Wary. “Eredine.” He pronounced it Ery-deen. “Yoga instructor, among other things. Finished classes this morning and returned for her afternoon sessions to find the place like this.”
“And is this definitely about you, not her?”
“No. I’m certain it’s another attack on me. The other messages were also found in random areas of the estate, except for one.”
“Have you called the police?”
“I’m just about to.”
“Can you hold off?” I raised my camera, which hung heavily around my neck on its strap. “Do you mind?”
Lachlan took the last step that separated us, so I had to tilt my head to meet his cool gaze. “Mac sent you?”
I could tell by his tone that he wasn’t happy with the prospect of me taking over for Mac.
“Yeah. He wants to continue investigating. I made a deal with him. He rests up, and I do all the legwork. We figure out the case together.”
Adair bit out a curse. “The man should be convalescing.”
“Would you?” I raised an eyebrow. “If some asshole, most probably one you know, stabbed you and threatened the people you cared about, could you just sit back and do nothing?”
Releasing a heavy exhale, Adair retreated and waved to the room. “Have at it. But be quick. I need to let the detectives see this so we can make repairs as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want your club members to miss out on their yoga.” I snapped pictures of the vandalized room.
“I don’t want Eredine to be afraid of this space. It’s her space. I want it returned to that immediately.”
I looked up from my camera. Adair was furious about this. But more so for this mysterious Eredine. I wondered if they were in a relationship. “Can I talk to her? I’d like to piece together what happened here.”
“No.”
That was emphatic. “Adair, I’m investigating a crime scene. I need to speak to the witness.”
He narrowed his eyes, practically shooting hate fire at me. “Only if Eredine agrees.”
“Well, yeah.” I wouldn’t bully anyone into talking to me, for Christ’s sake.
The man grunted and strode out of the studio while I continued to take photographs of the space. I had to admit, I could see the appeal in coming to work out in a place like this. The sliding windows, when they weren’t cracked, looked out over the tranquil loch. I could imagine this was the perfect place to meditate, when it wasn’t wrecked to shit with red spray paint and a creepy message.
Jock and the security guy accompanying him moved out of my way as I catalogued every piece of damage I could find. Then I zoomed in on the spray paint to take photographs of the message. I wanted to match them up with the other messages, see if the graffiti was by the same person.
Adair’s voice startled me. “Eredine will speak to you.”
I lowered the camera to find him scowling again. “Great. Lead the way.”
“Before I do … if she starts to get upset, you back off.”
I was sympathetic to his yoga instructor and what she’d been through, but he needed to be sensible. “You do know the police will want to talk to her when they get here?”
He didn’t reply. Just stalked out of the studio.
It was hard not to roll my eyes as I followed him. There should be a picture of him next to the word brooding in the dictionary.
Broody was never my thing. I liked a guy with a sense of humor. Which was one of the many reasons me and Mark did not survive past the six-month point.
“Lose the camera,” Adair threw over his shoulder.
Lose it where? My camera was expensive and precious.
Sighing, I noted that although Jock was on the phone to the police, he watched us, so I whipped off the camera and handed it to him. “Be careful with that,” I mouthed.