Chapter 32

He knew what Ms. Paulson looked like from her picture in the paper. He also knew, from doing some quick research, that she was forty-six, single, and owned a realty company—his ideal victim. Now, all he hadto do was find her in the mass of attendees. He did, eventually. She was holding court in the amphitheater behind the tropical conservatory.

Mingling at the periphery of the guests surrounding her, he watched and listened and learned. She was very touchy-feely when it came to the men within her sphere, resting her hand on one man’s an arm, leaning in so her shoulder brushed another man’s as they talked, all the while batting her eyelashes like some chick trying to pick up a guy at a bar—or so Blaine thought. Since the majority of the men were with wives or dates, she seemed doomed for failure—if it wasn’t for him. That idea brought a feral smile to his lips, which he instantly wiped away before someone noticed and wondered.