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her.
    “Coffee?”
    “No,” she said shaking her head. “Mr. Beck—”
    “Just Beck.”
    “You already know who I am so I’ll get to the reason I’m here. I’m looking into the disappearance of Sydney Brooks.”
    “I need some coffee. Be right back.”
    “You don’t have an assistant?”
    “I get my own coffee,” he said and shot her one of those you-should-have-known better-than-to-ask-that-question look.
    She watched Mr.
I-get-my-own-coffee
leave the room and return a few minutes later with a cup that said, “I’m the boss.” There was no doubt in her mind he was the boss. It was probably his way or not at all.
    Beck placed the cup on the coffee table and sat on the sofa across from her. The aroma of coffee filled the air. It seemed he didn’t believe in small talk when he returned to their conversation.
    “As I told you downstairs, I’ve never heard of Sydney Brooks.”
    “She called you.”
    “I can assure you, Ms. Brooks, I never heard of Sydney Brooks until you mentioned her name.”
    “Then you know her as Victoria Kelly.”
    “You’re here because you have something or you think you know something. Get to the point.”
    Markie could always tell when someone was lying, usually by their body language or their response to questions, but not with Dalton Beck. It bothered her that she couldn’t read him. She reached into her purse for the envelope she had found in Sydney’s bathroom vent, removed the pictures and dropped them on the coffee table in front of him. They scattered across the table. Beck’s expression didn’t change but there was a new tone in his voice when he spoke.
    “Where…did you get these?” Beck leaned forward picking up the pictures. He looked at each picture then placed them back on the table and sat back into the sofa. “Let me guess, you want money?”
    “I’m not in the habit of blackmailing people. All I want to know is where my sister is.”
    “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
    He divided his attention between her and the pictures on the coffee table. The stone-like expression settled on his face again.
    Markie watched him closely, but he wasn’t revealing anything he didn’t want her to know. She thought she saw him react to one of the pictures but wasn’t sure which one. Sydney had disappeared because of the pictures. She was sure of it and decided to run with the idea brewing in her mind to see if he would let anything slip.
    “You want to know what I think.”
    “No, but since you’re going to tell me anyway, go ahead. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of the pleasure.”
    “I think you knew about the pictures. Sydney called you about them and that’s why you went to her apartment.” He didn’t even so much as bat an eye as she laid out her conclusion. He just sat there and stared at her as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. Tough. She had a lot more to say. “The thug you sent to trash the place didn’t find them so you went back to see if you could. Is that it?”
    “You have a very active imagination. I’ll tell you again I’ve never met or spoken to Sydney Brooks.”
    “What were you doing at her apartment?” Markie pressed. “And don’t give me that lunch date crap because you’re not her type.”
    That brought his eyebrows up but that was it.
    “I’ve no interest in whatever type or category you’ve decided to slot me into. I’ve a full day. If you’ll excuse me…”
    He stood up. Conversation was over, but she wasn’t finished.
    “I could’ve gone to the police with the pictures,” Markie said deciding to play one more card. The police card. That usually got people talking, but not him.
    Beck looked down at the pictures but didn’t respond right away. Dark eyes with a flicker of curiosity bored into hers. “Why didn’t you?”
    “Because I don’t want them interfering with my investigation. It’s none of my business what you or your company is up to. All I care about is my sister. You know where to