Baddest Bad Boys by Shannon McKenna, Cate Noble, E. C. Sheedy Page A

“Aside from that.”
     
    He glanced out the window. “It’s a beautiful day,” he said. “Let’s go out and play in the woods.”
     
    Her grin grew dazzling. “That sounds great to me.”
     
    “I’ll call Molly every couple of hours or so,” he said. “If anything else weird happens, I’ll have Mendez send someone to check it out.”
     
    He was talking out loud, trying to justify a purely selfish, egoistic decision, but God, just look at that woman. Buck naked and smiling at him like that. She fucking glowed. How was a man expected to resist?
     
     
     
    The business suite was equipped with Internet access, and Julia made excellent use of it. Crowne Royale Group’s corporate website was sleek and professional. As was the flattering photo of Danny MacNamara, CFO. Julia read his bio, dismissed him, and moved on.
     
    She typed “Robin MacNamara” into the engine. After a half hour, she hit the Ace Entertainment Agency site, and got a photo and bio of Wiggles the Clown. Wiggles offered general clowning, face painting, juggling, balloon twisting, humorous magic, stories, games and puppetry. Wiggles claimed to meet all clowning needs, be they birthday parties, corporate events, holiday parties, charity bashes, children’s hospitals, daycares, and so on. Wiggles had purportedly been entertaining in the Greater Seattle area and bringing smiles to faces of children and adults for the past six years.
     
    Another paragraph revealed that the clown’s alter ego was Robin MacNamara. Julia stared at the big dark eyes and wide smile of the garishly painted creature who sported an enormous green wig and protruding red nose. Wiggles was Robin. Strange, but true.
     
    Entertaining for six years? Either she was older than she looked, or she’d been clowning since she was no more than a child.
     
    She found a contact number. “Ace Entertainment,” said a woman.
     
    “Hi. My name’s Melinda Sykes, and Robin MacNamara did a birthday party for my nephew a few weeks ago at my house. I just found her handbag,” Julia said. “Could you give me her home number? I could just drop it by for her on my way to work.”
     
    The woman hesitated. “Um, I could pass your number on to her.”
     
    Julia sighed. Sometimes people were stupid and credulous. Sometimes not. She gave the woman a fake number, and hit End.
     
    There was always the passwords William had obtained from the DMV. She entered the Washington system, with “Robin MacNamara,” scrolled, she found the girl’s face. Wide brown eyes. Born twenty-five years ago. A bit old, but when she closed her eyes, William gave her an assenting nod.
     
    She cross-referenced the address with a reverse directory, found an R. MacNamara on Etruria, and dialed the number.
     
    “Hi, is this Robin?” Julia asked, when a woman responded.
     
    “No, this is Esther. I’m her roommate. Can I take a message?”
     
    “I’m throwing a birthday party for my son, and the clown canceled on me. I’m scrambling for a replacement.” Julia feigned the harried tone of a busy mom. “Do you know if she’d be available tonight at six?”
     
    “I’m sorry, but I really doubt it,” Esther said regretfully. “She’s not even in town. She went up to the mountains for a few days.”
     
    The mountains? A shuddering thrill went up Julia’s spine.
     
    Of course, Robin might not have gone to the same place…but if she had? Oh, wow. It would be so incredibly perfect.
     
    “Very well,” she said. “Thanks for your help.”
     
    Lake. Cabin. Mountains. Everything pointed to it—the clipping, Molly, Esther, her prickling skin. Amendola and Robin were up there, having a secret rendezvous. A scumbag like Amendola was more than capable of betraying his friend by defiling his innocent little sister. The man’s disregard for anything but his own pleasure sickened her.
     
    But where? She pulled the photographs out of her purse. She had no way to be sure this was the same place, but Molly