Page 69 of Home Town Knight

I snorted, pulling out the other chair and taking a seat. Fitting that his name was River. I had no choice but to go with the flow.

“Let’s start here.” He opened up the documents on Stillwater. “Tell me about Cerberus.”

So he did know my source’s hacker name. Dammit. As a self-respecting journalist, I would’ve gone to jail to protect that name. So the fact that River had simply plucked it from my cloud drive? The cloud that I had thought for sure was ultra-encrypted and secure? More than a little unnerving.

“My source works with a group that’s devoted to exposing criminals and corruption,” I said. “I know he has a ton more on Stillwater than he’s shared with me.”

River opened a new window and started typing. At the same time, he said, “I was already familiar with Cerberus by reputation. Mine is Rubicon, by the way. My handle.” His fingers paused on the keyboard, and his eyes slid to the side. “I’d appreciate you not sharing that.”

“Rubicon? Like the river?”

“Yep. Because once you cross me, there’s no going back.”

He had me laughing again, even though I didn’t doubt what he’d said was accurate.

I told him about the gold coin next, showing him the single picture I had from my source, as well as the one that had been taken in Ace Tucker’s hotel room. River made connections I’d never seen before, asking me questions about Stillwater’s records that I didn’t know the answers to.

“Had you heard of Stillwater before?” I asked.

“Not specifically. I’ve run into brokers like them, but mainly operating out of Russia and Eastern Europe. Not surprising though. Seems to be no end to the way some people want to dominate others. And profit from it.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of that in your career.”

“I know you’re fishing, but I don’t mind it. Like you said, I know pretty much all your secrets. Only fair that I share some of mine. I met Trace at Langley. He’s the reason I’m in Hartley. I came here to work on an op with him last year, and I decided I was sick of the games our own government likes to play. At least, factions within our government. I wanted to be part of something pure. Something better.”

“The Protectors.” I wondered if the op he’d mentioned was connected to the human trafficker Dawson Witkins, the cult leader who’d disappeared. But I figured asking for details might be going too far, considering this was a brand new friendship and all.

“Owen told you about us.”

“He did. Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. He wondered before whether to trust you. I see he made his choice, and after getting a glimpse at so much of your life, I approve.”

“Um, thanks, I guess?”

“I’m like that Egyptian god, weighing your heart and judging if it’s worthy.”

“Good thing you don’t have an inflated sense of yourself.If you had a God complex added to your other skills, then I’d be very worried.”

He grinned. “I only use my powers for good. These days, anyway. Can’t speak to the shit I used to do for the Agency. I’m not so sure about the Protectors title. I might’ve picked something less literal. But I like that it’s a reminder touswhy we’re doing this. Not because we’re better than anyone, but because we have the means todobetter.” Then he shrugged. “Or something like that.”

He’d shifted back to his joking tone too quickly. “You don’t fool me, River. I think there’s a sincere, heartfelt guy under your irreverent exterior.”

“Nah, not really.” He glanced at the computer screen. “What about you, now that you’ve quit theDenver Daily? What’s next for the crack reporter?”

“You didn’t see when you were weighing my heart and reading all my secrets?”

“Nope, my powers are limited to the past and present. Not as strong at predicting the future, sadly.”

“Neither am I.”

It had been years since I’d written that story clearing my dad’s name. Since I’d tried to makesomethingof my career despite the damage to my reputation. I didn’t have much to show for it, did I?

“For the longest time, I’ve had this fantasy of writing a major exposé that would catch the attention of a big-name news outlet. Finally get that dream job for a prestigious paper instead of a clickbait factory. No job is really a dream. That’s not how it works in reality. But I can’t let go of it.”

“A big news outlet?” He swiveled in his chair. “I could pass your name along to some people I know. They’re based overseas or on the East Coast, but their employers have offices all over. They might be interested in a journalist withyour talents and integrity. A personal recommendation couldn’t hurt.”

I wasn’t getting my hopes up. “Sure, why not? I wouldn’t takeanything, but it might be close. Especially when my next rent check comes due.”