bigger cases—rapes and murders and bank robberies—that they aren’t going to search his house, confiscate every computer connected to him and bring in a forensics team to take a look at the hard drive. That would cost taxpayers a fortune, and, from their perspective, it would come with very little reward, even if they nailed him. The crime is called ‘harassment by means of an electronic device,’ and it’s only a misdemeanor. So nothing will likely happen from a criminal standpoint. My attorney said the worst Ethan would get on the criminal side would be six months in jail, a fine of up to a thousand dollars or both.”

Dallas rummaged around in his console until he found a pack of gum and, after offering Emery a stick, which she accepted, he put a piece in his own mouth. “Six months in jail would be serious for a pretty boy like Ethan. I can’t imagine he’d fare well with the type of men he’d meet in there. It would also publicly embarrass him the way he embarrassed you, and he’d lose his job for real this time.”

“We’d still have to prove intent—that he didn’t accidentally post that video when he meant to post something else, that it was him and not Tommy using his computer or whatever. Mr. Costa—”

“Mr. Costa’s your attorney?”

“Yes. He said if Ethan hired anyone who was any good to defend him—and I know he would get the best because his mother would step up to pay for it even if she had to sell everything she owns—he’d be unlikely to serve time. That means it would come down to a fine, which, even at a thousand bucks, would be nothing for what Ethan did to me, especially since he retained his job and I didn’t. That’s why we’re suing him in civil court. We can get a lot more than a thousand dollars if we win. And if my lawyer and I can create a strong enough case, the police might go after him, too.”

“They’re not now?”

“They claim they’re looking into it, but from what I understand, if we do their work for them, make it easy, we’ll have a better shot.”

“I remember hearing about the civil case that Nicole Simpson’s family filed against O.J.”

“It provided their only justice,” she said sadly. “Taking the civil path might prove to be my best recourse, too.”

Dallas spotted a car coming down the street. “That’s a white Audi, isn’t it?”

Emery sat up, then ducked down. “Damn. It is. That’s Ethan.”

They watched as he parked, gathered his shopping bags and went into the house. He didn’t seem to notice them. “Are you okay if we stay here to see if Tommy comes?”

“Yeah,” she said, but after two hours of waiting they began to despair that he would ever show up. They were also getting hungry; it was dinnertime.

“I’m going to the door,” Dallas announced.

Once again, Emery sat up straighter. “What?”

“Why not? It’d be smarter than hanging out around here indefinitely. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know we know each other, either, so he has no reason to suspect we might be in contact. I could ask for Tommy, see what he says. Maybe if Tommy’s not there, he’ll tell me where I can find him. At a minimum, he might clarify whether Tommy has really moved—and if he has, we can safely assume we’re wasting our time sitting here.”

She puffed out her cheeks as she mulled it over, but agreed in the end. “That makes sense.”

“Okay. Be sure to stay down.”

“Will do.”

As Dallas got out, he was hoping Ethan would do something to give him an excuse to throw just one good punch. As far as he was concerned, a broken jaw might not be everything he deserved, but it would be the quickest form of justice.

Emery curved her nails into her palms as she watched Dallas cross the street, walk down a couple of houses and cut across the lawn under the sycamore tree. It wasn’t until he was almost to the door that she got the idea to text Ethan. If she distracted him, if she made him believe the fight was elsewhere—somewhere far removed from his front door—he might be less suspicious of his visitor.

He would certainly never guess she was behind what was going on.

I thought you wanted to talk. But then you curse at me and hang up?

The symbol indicating he was looking at her text appeared on her screen the moment Dallas reached the stoop.

When Dallas knocked, the ellipsis disappeared.

She waited to see what Ethan would do first—answer her or answer the door.

After a minute, he came out.

His encounter with Dallas lasted much longer than she’d expected. Ethan flashed his best smile, shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorjamb as they talked—like some kind of GQ model.

Dallas stood back a few feet, and although she couldn’t see his face, he seemed every bit as affable. Eventually, they both pulled out their phones and Dallas typed something into his while looking at Ethan’s—a great sign as far as Emery was concerned. Then they talked and laughed a while longer.

Finally, Ethan watched Dallas walk away.

She ducked down as Dallas approached, didn’t dare put her head above the dashboard, especially because Dallas murmured, “He’s still there,” as he climbed in.

“Did you get anything?” she asked.

He didn’t answer; he didn’t even look at her. He started the engine, drove past Ethan’s house and waved. For Ethan to still be outside, he either really liked Dallas, or he was suspicious of him.

It wasn’t until after they’d turned the corner that Dallas pulled over and she was able to get back into her seat and put on her seat belt. “What happened?”

His teeth flashed as he grinned. “Tommy has moved in with Thiago, but Ethan gave me his phone number.”

“No way!”

“It’s true.” He handed her his phone with the contact information on the screen.

She smiled when she saw it, then settled back as he pulled

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