Lilah pointed her apple core at me before she threw it in the bin. “See, this is why we’re friends.” She wiped her hands off on a napkin, then leaned forward, clasping her hands together as she lowered her voice. “So, any developments on the Cameron front?”

  It felt like all the air left me at the mere mention of his name. We’d spent the entire day Sunday in my bed. I’d even faked a cold and cancelled dinner at my parents’ house.

  I glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then levelled her with a serious look. “We’re kind of together now, I guess, but we’re keeping it on the down-low at work.”

  “What?!” she whisper-hissed, eyes alight with intrigue. “Tell me everything.”

  Quickly and quietly, I filled her in on what had happened over the weekend.

  “I’m so happy for you, Maisie,” she said, and I felt like she truly meant it. “But you should let him know that I’ll murder him in his sleep if he ever hurts you.”

  I shot her a funny look. “Has anyone ever mentioned you’ve got a bit of a psychopathic streak?”

  She shot me an evil grin. “It comes in handy at a job like this.”

  Later on, I was on my way back from the bathroom when I saw DI Costas leaving Cameron’s office. Curiosity piqued, I waited until he was gone, then went and knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Cameron called, and I stepped inside. He got that warm look in his eyes when he saw me, the one that made me feel like my insides were all lit up with fairy lights.

  I gave a shy smile. “Hey.”

  He lifted a pen to his mouth, gaze travelling down my body, soliciting a zing of awareness. Ever since Sunday, I couldn’t stop thinking about him, the way he made me feel when it was just the two of us. I’d never felt so…seen by a man before, and it was both nerve-inducing and exhilarating.

  “Do you need something?”

  “I saw Detective Costas leaving. Is everything okay?”

  Cameron’s face turned serious now as he motioned behind me. “Shut the door and come sit down.”

  I did as instructed, then rested my hands on my lap, waiting for what he had to say.

  “Theo and I go way back. We went to school together, actually,” he began, and I lifted both eyebrows, wondering why he was telling me this. “Long story short, he can be trusted.”

  “Okay…”

  “I told him that we’ve been looking into Harrington and that we suspect he and Roy Voss are working together somehow.”

  Now I frowned. “Why would you tell him that? We don’t even know if anything illegal is going on yet.” I was still a little insecure about this whole thing, since it was driven by my own curiosity and hunches. What if I was completely wrong about everything? For a second my self-doubt took hold and I worried about involving the police if it turned out this was nothing. How embarrassing would it be if I was proven 100% wrong on all accounts?

  In an effort to calm down, I reminded myself of all we’d discovered so far, and how there had to be something untoward about Harrington. He’d had Christina Crowley beaten up for stealing from his shop, and that wasn’t normal behaviour for someone who was supposed to be an ordinary business owner.

  “I told him because if Harrington is involved in illegal dealings as we suspect he is,” Cameron replied, “then we want the police on our side.”

  I worried my lip. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Anyway,” he continued, “it turns out that the police have been watching both Harrington and Voss for a while now. They think they’re laundering money through their businesses, but they aren’t entirely sure where the money is coming from. Theo wants us to report back to him after we attend the treasure hunt this weekend. We’ll be entering into Harrington’s inner circle, and we might be able to discover more information about his illegal diamond trade.” Cameron paused a moment, rubbing his jaw. “Theo and I were talking, and we suspect the £50,000 worth of diamonds that make up the grand prize might be illegal. While we’re there, we’ll be able to take pictures. Better yet, if we win the hunt, we’ll be able to bring the diamonds back to Theo so he can have an expert determine their origins.”

  I stared at him. “Do you really think we’re smart enough to win?”

  Cameron scoffed. “Of course we are.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “You’re a private investigator now, Maisie. This is your job.”

  I frowned, because he was right. This was my job, well this sort of activity at least. I’d better start getting used to it. I shuddered to think what Georgia would say if she found out about our little side hustle. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became, but then, there was also a part of me that was excited at the prospect of helping the police nab Harrington and Voss. All clues seemed to point to them working together, we just needed to find out exactly what they were up to.

  I met Cameron’s gaze soberly. “Okay, then. I’m in.”

  His look was approving. “Good. I’ll pick you up from your place on Friday evening.”

  When I left his office, I bumped right into Damien. “Sorry! I didn’t see you there,” I said. “I swear I’ve got my head in the clouds.”

  He gave a low chuckle. “No worries. I’m always happy to have a pretty lady bump into me.”

  His compliment made me feel weird. It just seemed like an inappropriate thing to say to a co-worker. Then again, it wasn’t like Cameron hadn’t flirted with me at work, too. I guess it just felt different coming from him because we had history and real feelings for one another. By contrast, Damien’s interest felt hollow, fake somehow. But why would he fake a crush? It didn’t make sense. I laughed awkwardly and moved by him when he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

  “Hey, I saw that detective bloke leaving Cameron’s office a while ago. Is there a new case I don’t know about?” There was something a little too keen about the way he asked the question that gave me pause.

  “They’re old friends. I think they were just catching up,” I said, not entirely sure why I lied. I just had one of those weird feelings, and my weird feelings didn’t normally lead me astray.

  “Ah, right, well, I’ll email you those files you asked for,” he said then dropped his hand from my arm.

  I wondered if maybe I was just being paranoid. Perhaps all this stuff with Harrington and Voss was scrambling my brain.

  “Great, thanks,” I replied, mustering a smile as I continued on to my desk. Sure, I didn’t know him very well yet, but so far Damien seemed like a perfectly normal, hardworking guy. I told myself to get a grip and endeavoured to focus on the work I needed to get done before the end of the day.

  ***

  The week crawled by at an agonisingly slow pace, mainly because I just wanted the weekend to arrive. I was oddly eager to go undercover with Cameron. I couldn’t wait to hobnob with all the couples at the treasure hunt and perhaps even find some evidence that the police could use. And okay, yes, I was also nervous, since I hadn’t done anything like this before. I was used to being the person behind the scenes.

  What if Harrington spotted us and remembered us from when we visited his shop that time? Or what if Voss was there and remembered me from our encounter in the café? Just to be safe, I decided to wear the wig I bought several Halloweens ago when I dressed up as Wonder Woman.

  After work on Friday, I hurried home to get ready, having already packed a bag the night before. Standing in front of the mirror, I fixed the wig in place and studied my appearance. I actually looked pretty good as a brunette.

  I opened up my email while I waited for Cameron to arrive and studied the schedule of events for The Hunt. Tonight, there was to be a gala dinner, followed by breakfast tomorrow morning, after which the treasure hunt would take place. The prize was located somewhere on the grounds of the stately home that had been rented out to host the event.

  I spotted Cameron’s car pulling up outside my house and hurried out. He was still emerging from the car when I reached him.

  “Hey!” I said with an enthusiastic wave.

  “Hello,” he replied, scratching his head. “Uh, I was going to come in and get you.”

  “No need. I’m ready to go.”

  Cameron smiled faintly at my eagerness, then came around to open my door. I thanked him before lowering into the passenger seat, catching a faint whiff of his cologne. It made my head go a little foggy, soliciting memories from last weekend.

  “So, the wig?” he said questioningly, breaking me from my wandering thoughts.

  “Oh, right,” I replied, touching the ends. “What do you think? I thought it would be a good idea since both Harrington and Voss have seen me before. Does it look okay?”

  He shot me a side glance. “It looks…surprisingly natural.”

  “Really? That’s great. I was afraid it might be too obvious it was a wig.”

  “It’s not obvious, though I still prefer your real hair,” he commented.

  “Well,” I said, smiling at the compliment. “Just for this weekend you can pretend I’m someone else. Speaking of which, did you bring the fake IDs?”

  Cameron reached over and opened his glove compartment. “They’re in there.”

  I got another waft of his cologne and tried my best to keep a clear head, focusing on checking we had everything we needed to get into the event. A silence fell, both of us going quiet for a while as he drove. I couldn’t stop wondering how things would play out this weekend. I was also a little preoccupied with my suspicions about Damien, which wouldn’t seem to let up. I tried to convince myself it was nothing, that my imagination was playing tricks on me, but the strange, hollow feeling in my stomach every time I thought about him just wouldn’t go away.

  “You okay?” Cameron asked, clearly noticing my quietness.

  “I’m fine…well no, that’s not entirely true. It’s Damien.”

  He cast me a dark look. “Has he been pushy with you?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s nothing like that. Well, not really.”

  His frown deepened. “What do you mean, not really?”

  “I think he’s pretending to have a crush on me.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  I blew out a breath. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. He was also asking questions about why Detective Costas was in your office, and he seemed a little too keen. Like, it wasn’t just casual chitchat. He really wanted to know. It got me thinking about how we don’t really know much about him. Like, he says we went to college together, but how come I don’t ever remember seeing him, not even once?”

  “We did a thorough background check on him. He definitely did attend your college, Maisie,” Cameron replied.

  “But what if he stole someone else’s identity, and the real Damien Holt is out there, completely oblivious to the fact that there’s a man going around using his name?”

  “Why go to all the trouble?” Cameron asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, wracking my brains.

  Cameron was quiet a moment, his expression thoughtful before he spoke, “Not that your theory doesn’t hold merit. Plus, you know I believe your unique curiosity is what makes you good at this job. And I know I’ve been teaching you to not always accept the simplest explanation, but in this case, I really do think that Damien simply has a crush on you, Maisie. Plus, if he were an identity thief, then we would’ve discovered the real Damien was already employed elsewhere, but we didn’t.”

  I slumped back in my seat. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

  Cameron glanced from me to the road. A moment of quiet passed and I could see he was still considering my theory. “Okay so, let’s reason this out. Say hypothetically, you’re right about him. Why would Damien want a job at James & Peterson?”

  I chewed on my lip. “Well, think of all the people we’ve helped put behind bars over the years. He could be the family member of one of them who’s out for revenge.”

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but that sounds more like the plot to a thriller than real life.”

  I pursed my lips and folded my arms, doubting myself. “God, I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? Sometimes I just can’t get my brain to quit concocting crazy ideas.”

  “Like I said, your unique curiosity makes you an ideal investigator. And your crazy brain is what has us spending the weekend at what may or may not be an adult treasure hunt. If nothing else, it’ll be an adventure,” he said with affection.

  My mouth curved into a wide, happy smile.

  “What are you smiling at me like that for?” Cameron questioned when I didn’t look away.

  “I’ve just realised how much we’ve rubbed off on one another. Here I am, thinking the worst of someone, and there you are, trying to convince me it’s not all bad. You basically just told me to look on the bright side.”

  I watched as he tried to frown and failed, a smile breaking through. “Okay, so maybe I’ve started to see things a little different since you came along,” he admitted.

  I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s a good look for you,” I murmured.

  He inhaled sharply at my unexpected show of affection, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Kiss me again and I’ll pull over to the side of the road.”

  “That’s becoming something of a habit for you, isn’t it?” I teased playfully, thinking of how he’d done exactly that on our road trip to Penzance last weekend.

  Cameron cast me a dark, sexy look, then shook his head and focused back on his driving. When we arrived at our destination, I stared at the beautiful manor up ahead of us. It was like something out of a Jane Austen movie or Downton Abbey. Manicured bushes lined a winding road that led to one of the prettiest buildings I’d ever seen. “It’s beautiful. And wow, look how big it is. How many bedrooms do you think there are? Fifty? A hundred?”

  “There are hidden gems like this dotted all around the country,” Cameron said. He was staring at the house, too, and for a second I thought he was just as awestruck as I was.

  There were several cars ahead of ours, with people emerging and being welcomed inside the house. A valet met us at the entrance. He took Cameron’s keys while another smartly dressed man helped us with our bags. He led us inside where we had to present our ID, and then they requested that we hand over our mobile phones.

  “It’s standard procedure for the event. The organisers want participants to be fully immersed,” said the man.

  I frowned, a protest on the tip of my tongue.

  Cameron pressed his hand firmly to the small of my back, a silent instruction for me to stay quiet. Reluctantly, I handed over my phone, as did Cameron. The phones were placed inside sealed ziplock bags and stored in a locker behind the reception desk. I studied the wall above it, where an antique fencing sword was displayed. The entire place was full of old paintings and valuable antiquities. It was more like a museum than a house.

  Next, we were brought to our room, which was just as lavish as the rest of the house, featuring a four-poster bed and more antique furniture.

  As soon as we were alone, I placed my hands on my hips. “Can you believe this?”

  Cameron eyed me meaningfully and placed a finger to his lips, communicating he needed me to be quiet. I frowned. What was going on?

  “No, I can’t,” he replied in a loud voice. “This room is amazing and look at the view.”

  “Um, yes, the view is pretty,” I agreed, unsure what he was up to.

  I watched as he proceeded to search the room in a skilled and practiced way that made me feel like he’d done this before. It was like we were in a spy movie as Cameron quietly opened up the back of the alarm clock to check inside, ran his hand along the top of the wardrobe, then carefully lifted the mattress. After that, he climbed atop a chair to reach for the fire alarm. He used a tiny screwdriver he appeared to have stowed somewhere on his person to open it.

  Frowning, he pulled out a tiny object. He studied it a moment, his expression perturbed, then put it back inside the alarm and screwed it shut.

  Cameron stepped down off the chair then rummaged in his bag, retrieving a pen and paper.

  They’re listening to us, he wrote, the room is bugged for sound, but there are no cameras.

  My pulse pounded as I picked up the pen and paper. Does that mean they know we aren’t who we say we are?

  Cameron nodded.

  A brick lodged itself in my stomach. I blinked at him, my mind working overtime. Then, a bizarre theory came to mind as I grabbed the pen again.

  What if it was Damien? He was asking questions about Detective Costas, and he’s always around. Harrington could’ve planted him at the firm to keep tabs on us. What if he’s been onto us ever since we went to his store, pretending to shop for rings and asking too many questions.

  It’s possible, Cameron wrote.

  Anxiety bubbling up inside of me, I scribbled down another question, Should we leave?

  He thought on it a moment then wrote down a response. No. I think we should play along for now.

  I nodded and wrote back, Okay, let’s play along then.

  “I’m going to go and get changed for dinner,” I said out loud and headed to the bathroom.

  Cameron gave me a thumbs-up. “Don’t be long,” he replied.

  The gala was held in a giant ballroom, the kind of place you might hold a high society wedding reception. I was on high alert, unable to relax as I studied every face, worrying if we were putting ourselves at risk simply by being here. We were served a three-course meal you’d find in a Michelin star restaurant, but unfortunately I was too anxious to enjoy it. I couldn’t stop wondering what was going to come of all this. I felt like there must be spies everywhere, like we were being constantly watched. A part of me wished I’d never let my curiosity about Harrington get the best of me in the first place.

  Like, what was I even doing here? I wasn’t some suave lady spy in a James Bond movie. I was Maisie Wilkins, the awkward, overly cheerful researcher who enjoyed ASMR videos and binge-watching TV shows.

  I was pulled from my thoughts when a hand gripped my thigh. Cameron’s warm palm stroked soothingly as he bent to whisper in my ear. “Relax. If you chew on your lip any harder, you’ll draw blood.”