Page 7 of Lesson In Forgiveness

After that, Tabitha was in the wind; both she and the SUV disappeared into thin air despite an intense combing of the area with multiple CCTV cameras.

“How bored are you right now?”

Grit slid his eyes toward the fancy British accent, lifting his eyebrow. “Actually, I find all this quite fascinating. A month ago, I didn’t know what the hell half of these things were supposed to be; now, they’re actual buildings. Habitable buildings,” he added, gesturing to the cluster of completed cabins across the site. “Well ahead of schedule now, aren’t you?”

Blue eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hard hat, Elias smiled. He was a tall man, although his husband was taller still, and he wore dominance like a comfortable jacket. “We’re progressing faster than anticipated, yes. The crews are pulling out all the stops.”

It was much like Atticus’s team, Grit supposed. Pay them well, take care of them, and in return, the loyalty and commitment was given back tenfold. In this case, building a centerpiece for Evander Ledston’s multimillion-dollar enterprise.

Casting his gaze over the site as though amazed by the work going on, Grit assessed each and every worker in the vicinity. While Ledston’s crews were mainly comprised of men, there were at least three women Grit had seen, hauling timber, hammering and sawing with their counterparts.

“How many women do you employ for this kind of work?”

Elias’s expression turned thoughtful. “Throughout the company or just amongst these crews here?”

“Here.”

“Five.”

“Any new hires recently?”

“No. We had one transfer in from Dallas a few weeks ago, though.”

Suspicion reared its ugly head. “How many weeks ago, exactly?”

“She arrived a couple of days after you. She’s been with the Dallas crew for…” Elias tapped away on his ever-present iPad, bringing up the employee files. “Six months. No complaints from the site supervisor there, and none from our guys here. Arrives on time, works hard, has a drink with the crew after work. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“She bunking with anyone?”

“I wouldn’t know. Crew housing is for the crew, Grit. We don’t interfere unless there’s a problem. We hire adults, not children.”

“Stay away from her until I do some verification. I mean it, Elias,” Grit said darkly, pulling out his phone. “Tabitha hasn’t even sniffed in your direction that we can find; why sniff when she can have eyes on you all day, every day, with us none the wiser?”

“Hell. All right, I’ll stay away.”

“In fact,” Grit decided as his gut started to quiver in the way it did when it was right, “stay right here next to me.” He called Archie, mowing over her cheery hello without preamble. “I need a background check on one,” he reached out and tilted the iPad in Eli’s hand toward him, scanning the file, “Roberta Ingles.”

“Coming right up,” Anarchy sang. “Roberta Ingles… Let’s see now. Thirty-six year old female, single, home address listed in Dallas, Texas. Employee of Ledston Construction as of November last year, again based in Dallas. Looks like she’s a bricklayer by trade.”

Grit stared at Elias. “Is she laying bricks, Elias?”

Awareness flashed in his eyes, hot and wildly blue. “Carpentry.”

“I need a physical description, Archie.”

“I’ll do one better,” she hummed. “I’m sending the photo from her employee file to your phone now.”

Switching the call to speakerphone, Grit pulled up the photo as soon as it arrived, comparing it to the one on Elias’s file. A slow, predatory grin curved his mouth. “Got you, sneaky little witch.”

“Tabitha’s there in Denver?” Relief filled Anarchy’s voice.

“Tabitha’s here on the construction site,” Grit corrected, studying the two pictures.

The real Roberta was full-faced, with pale green eyes and short-cut dark hair. A tattoo of some kind of tree or flower ran up her neck, jawline, and disappeared into her hairline.

Fake Roberta was almost pixie-like. Big, lavender-blue eyes that had to be contact lenses. Curly auburn hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder, a few wisps of those curls dangling over her forehead. Not a drop of ink on pale skin.

If he mentally replaced red hair with blonde, those lavender eyes with Jasper’s icy blue, Grit was certain he’d found their assassin hiding in plain sight.

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