Page 38 of Stalker

“I’m confused. Why?” I asked, barely able to get my eyes off the scene.

Cash laughed. “There are whispers Drew was tied up with the evidence lying in plain sight.”

“What?” Who the hell did that?

“Maybe another Good Samaritan.”

“This day will be long.”

“I just thought you’d want to know before walking into the office,” Cash told me.

“You’re absolutely right. I owe you one.”

“We’re now up to about one thousand that you owe me.”

I snarled on purpose. “I need coffee before I bite your head off.”

“Later, girl. Wear your red suit. I think you’re going to need it.”

The phone was cool as I held it against my forehead. My logical brain was already trying to pick apart the fact someone had taken the time to set a scene, implicating Drew. Why not just kill him? I couldn’t believe I was even picturing my version of the scene.

I’d been around killers for far too many years.

It was time to get my mind off criminal cases.

I grabbed the stack of mail I hadn’t bothered to open the night before. Other than the usual junk and a couple of bills, a single piece caught my eye.

A black envelope.

With my name on the outside and no return address.

There was no reason for my heart to suddenly jump from palpitations. Scammers and advertisers went to great lengths to obtain new customers or find idiots who would fall for their tricks. I almost tossed it along with the ads for new cellphone service when a nagging feeling drifted into my mind.

What if…

It had been days since Cash had helped me upload my answers to the questionnaire.

Hmmm…

I’d tried not to think about how impetuous I’d been in filling it out and hitting send. After telling Mr. Wells I accepted the new ‘case,’ he’d presented a file of additional information he’d put together over several years while also making a single chilling statement.

“As I said to you before, do whatever is necessary to enter their worlds. You have my full support no matter what you’re required to do. This entire office will stand by your choices and decisions.”

I hadn’t really thought about what the statement could mean. If I read into it, I’d say he was suggesting I break the law to find dirt on the company. I wasn’t entirely certain I could do that and still look myself in the mirror. I’d prided myself on always being on the right side of the law, following every rule since I was a kid.

Something was off.

What I’d found strange about the information was that Mr. Wells was known to be very organized, anal even. While some of the papers and articles had been labeled, categorized by date order, others appeared as if tossed together and dumped inside. I’d yet to go through everything. One of the first things I’d been taught was to start from the beginning.

The most successful attorneys, especially prosecutors, carefully went through every scrap of evidence, forcing themselves to be completely objective no matter how much they believed the person they were prosecuting to be guilty.

I glared at the file sitting on my kitchen table.

There was so much to go through, I’d opened and flipped through a few of the papers, including some contracts that had obviously been slipped to Mr. Wells in breach of confidence. That had annoyed me to the point I’d stopped. That’s why I’d shifted to my werewolf novel.

Ha.

See what good that had done me.

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