Dinner and Suspicion
That evening, Jenny stood in the kitchen in a sleek black dress—too formal for a quiet dinner at home.
“You look stunning,” Marco said, kissing her cheek. Her skin was cold, and she shifted slightly away.
“Thank you. How was your day?” Her tone was airy, almost rehearsed.
“Productive,” Marco answered, watching her closely. “Wesley mentioned something about the Henderson contract. Do you know that client?”
For a moment, panic flickered in her eyes, then she masked it. “No. Should I?”
Casey bounded in, blond hair bouncing. “Dad! Can I stay at Melissa Connor’s this weekend?”
Marco filed the name away instantly. Melissa. Daughter of a police officer. New in school.
“We’ll see,” he said warmly, brushing his daughter’s hair.
At dinner, he kept his gaze on Jenny. She checked her phone three times, each look secretive. When she excused herself, she carried her purse—and her phone—with her.
