I finger the paperwork in my pocket but remain silent. It’s good to hear the man Rhett spared will talk. I know Worldwide Decurion is behind the trafficking—the stuff I gathered from the dispatch center says enough—but I can’t hand over illegally gained evidence. Well, I’m sure Miles can find a loophole, but for now, I keep the information close, just in case it’s needed in the future.
“Did you save the people?” Miles asks. “The ones inside?”
“As far as I know, there were seven dead bodies found once the fires were taken care of. We’re still identifying them, but everyone else we found was taken to the hospital and is expected to make a full recovery.”
Miles breathes easier.
“How was your sister?” Rhett asks. “And the other little girl?”
“They seemed okay once they got away from the building. I intend to pick them up from the hospital on the way home.”
“Do you think they’ll keep at it?” I ask, my voice a grate to the ears.
Rhett lifts an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The traffickers. Their whole operation.”
“Without the cops? And with us hot on Worldwide Decurion’s trail? No. I doubt they’ll even have the option.”
Miles scoots to the edge of his chair. “What about the Vice family?”
“They were co-owners of the property,” Rhett replies. “So they’re under investigation.”
“But you didn’t arrest any of them? Jeremy was there in the retirement home.”
“None of the men we arrested admit to seeing him, and he wasn’t picked up by any of my officers.”
Miles curses under his breath, but I offer a weak laugh. That’s my luck. Of course he would get away. He’s made of slime, after all. He’ll slip through any crack available. It makes my life ten times worse knowing he’s out there, though. Especially now that he knows I’m back from the grave.
“Why are we still here, then?” Miles asks, his fingers gripping my pants tighter. “We gave you our statements.”
“I’m charging you both with trespassing,” Rhett drawls. He picks up a few pieces of paper and tosses them over. Miles takes them and skims over a few lines before returning his gaze to Rhett’s.
“Really?”
“You were trespassing.”
“But—”
“And this way you’ll both be in our system with fingerprints and mug shots.” Rhett looks away from Miles and gives me his full attention. “Which means your fingerprints won’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. They’ll be on file as Percy Adams and Miles Devonport. No one else’s.”
Miles goes quiet, and I shift in my seat.
“I thought—” I begin, but stop to gather my thoughts. “Didn’t you have someone in custody claiming that I hired them for a hit on Shelby?” Why help me by getting my new identity solidified in the system?
“It turns out Donny McCoy is a pathological liar,” Rhett says with a sigh. “We’ve caught him in a few inconsistencies, and he’s flat-out admitted to stretching the truth. It seems he isn’t a reliable source of information. Plus, officers have a bit of discretion. After everything I’ve come to know of you, I doubt you’d hire someone to kill Shelby.”
“I definitely didn’t,” I state.
“Yeah, well, maybe Nicholas Pierce would have. But he’s dead, so says the paperwork. Just like the paperwork says Percy Adams once trespassed into gun-infested territory to save a couple of kidnapped girls. If I had to go on record for a crime, I wouldn’t mind having that one.”
For a moment, we regard each other.
Damn. Rhett’s not such an insufferable asshole after all. Almost makes me want to apologize for fucking with him in the boathouse.
Almost.
Miles lets out a long exhale. “Is there anything else?”
“There is one thing.”
Rhett shuffles through the mountain of paperwork and snatches up a bundle of time receipts. He hands them over, and I stare at them for a few seconds to allow for my busted eye to focus. They’re handwritten time cards, basically. All in Shelby’s handwriting. All three years signed off as though I had worked for him for some time.
“I found that in the stack of evidence you gave me,” Rhett says. “I figured you’d want it back.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
A woman in a tight blouse enters Rhett’s office. It’s the secretary—what’s her name?—Monica. She walks over to Rhett and hands him a mug of coffee. “Anything else I can do for you?” she asks with a smile.
“I’m swamped, Monica,” Rhett says. “I appreciate the drink, but—”
“If you need anything else, I’d be more than willing to help!”
“Yes, I understand.”
She places a hand on his arm, and I almost feel for the guy. Too polite to tell her no, too stressed to deal with it properly. And Monica drools like a puppy. Her fingers are gonna be so wet I’ll be afraid to shake hands with her the next time we meet.
“I think we need to go,” I say.
Miles stands and offers me a hand up. I take it, despite feeling like a useless pile of jelly, and I lean on him in order to walk.
“All of us,” I say to Monica. “Rhett needs to do some paperwork.”
She gives me an odd look, almost like she’s saying who the hell are you? but Miles backs me up.
“Yeah, isn’t that right, Rhett? You were just telling us how you needed some peace and quiet.”
Rhett nods. “Yes. I have enough work for thirty people on my plate.”
Monica forces a tight smile. “All right. Call me if you need me.” She walks out with me and Miles, never regarding us in the least, and heads off toward her desk at the first possible moment.
“You sure you want to be carrying me like this?” I ask with a half smile as Miles and I continue our way through the police department. “These all might be your future coworkers, and I’m some random sad sack getting blood on your clothes.”
“I’d rather have them know where my priorities are,” he replies, holding me closer. “I’ve got your back, Pierce.”
I love you too.
The words hang in my mind
