Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“And she chose the job over you,” he surmises.
“She had no choice,” I say quietly. “It’s who she is, and I had to respect it.”
He studies me for a long moment. “And now?”
“Now she’s here because she’s in deep shit,” I answer. “But when this is over, she’ll go back to it. I know she will.”
“And you don’t know if you can do that again.”
“Nothing’s changed, man.” I meet his eyes. “I don’t know if I can survive loving someone I can’t fully protect.”
Reid leans back slightly against the divider. “Want my advice?”
I lift a shoulder. “You’d tell me anyway, so might as well go for it.”
Reid smirks, but then his smile melts into a serious stare. “You don’t make lifetime decisions in the middle of an active threat. Right now, your job is simple and solitary. All you have to do is keep her safe. Your feelings can wait.”
It’s simple, really, but also easier said than done. If it was just that easy to put the feelings aside, I’d have shot near perfect today.
The range door opens again and two other agents step inside, their voices carrying faintly before they secure ear protection and move toward the armory. The moment shifts, practical reality pushing back in.
Reid replaces his ear covers and picks up his weapon. “Don’t decide how it ends before it even has a chance to begin again.”
I nod once, because I don’t have a better response than that.
When I log the Glock back into the armory and head toward the stairs, I know one thing with certainty.
I still have a lot of shit I need to figure out where Tessa’s concerned, but I’m not getting the answer today.
When I leave the range, the transition feels like surfacing from underwater. I trot down the staircase to the lobby, finding Tessa at one of the long tables near the windows, laptop open, surrounded by piles of documents. A legal pad rests beside her, covered in her tight, slanted handwriting. Her coffee mug is half-full and forgotten. A strand of hair has slipped loose near her temple, and she absently tucks it back as she scrolls.
For a moment, I just watch her. Seeing her sitting there, steady and focused… alive… is grounding.
She senses me before I speak and looks up. Her expression shifts immediately from studious intent to warmth. “Hey. How’d you do?”
“Cleared my head,” I reply.
“That sounds like code for didn’t hit the target,” she quips with a grin.
“Smartass.” I pull out the chair across from her and sit. “You find anything?”
Her eyes sharpen instantly, and she turns the laptop toward me. “I did.”
The name Jason Pelham sits at the top of the screen in bold. “Who’s that?”
“Head of SAPG.” Her fingers move quickly across the trackpad. “On paper, he’s clean. Standard top-level executive compensation. Conservative investments. Nothing flashy.” She clicks into a spreadsheet layered with color-coded cells. “But when I ran his name through property acquisition databases and cross-referenced that with corporate filings, I found an odd connection. There are two holding companies tied to properties he purchased over the last three years. They don’t list him directly—but the registered agent for both entities is the same corporate services firm that files paperwork for RainVest subsidiaries.”
“That’s not illegal,” I say.
“No,” she agrees. “But it’s close enough to smoke.” I get a lopsided grin. “No pun intended.”
“Funny girl,” I say dryly.
She scrolls again. “Both properties were later developed by firms with financial ties to RainVest. And both developments were fast-tracked through permitting despite failing initial inspections.”
I feel the familiar tightening in my gut. “Dirty money exchanging hands?”
“That’s my guess.”
“That’s circumstantial but interesting.”
A smile breaks out across her face, eyes dancing in a way that tells me all this stuff isn’t really all that interesting. “It gets better.” She opens another tab. “Pelham keeps his personal life quiet. No active online presence. No obvious family ties listed in corporate bios.” She glances at me briefly, almost pleased. “But social media and city records don’t lie.” She pulls up a scanned marriage certificate. “Pelham’s wife is Gavin DelRey's sister.”
The name lands like a bomb and I lean forward instinctively. “They’re related?”
“Yup. Brothers-in-law.”
“Holy shit,” I breathe.
She nods and zooms in on the document. “Josie nailed it down after I found the connection. County clerk filing. She cross-checked it against voter registration data and property tax records.”
I let out a slow breath. “I think you might have found the smoking gun.”
“Exactly… a direct, personal bridge between RainVest and SAPG. It makes it more believable they would stoop to arson and murder for family.”
“Proximity with motive,” I muse, rubbing at my jaw.
She watches my reaction carefully. “You don’t think I’m stretching,” she says, softer now.
I meet her eyes. “No,” I tell her honestly. “I think you just moved this from suspicion to structure.”
Relief flickers across her face.