Michael
I couldn't sit still. Betty was wherever she was with Dominic’s threat still dangling over her like a sword, and I sat trying not to jump every time the pageboy huffed his exasperated sigh. It was driving me insane.
A few hours I would ring up Marcus Reid, the private detective. It took him another three days, after the café incident, to have something at last.
"I've got him," Marcus said when I arrived at his office. “Or at least, signs of him having been around here awhile.”
He called up security footage on his computer. "This is from two weeks ago. Airport customs."
That chap that might easily pass for the Duke in spite of being quite another, walked through customs to my right. Same height, same build, same coloring. But there was something strange about his movements. Mor
