Page 17 of The Verdict

Merritt.

The ideas people had about intimacy were a sham. Sure, plenty of people would think I knew her intimately because I’d fucked her. They would be wrong. Intimacy was knowing about a person in a way the rest of the world didn’t. Many times, that was sexual in nature, but not all the time. Not this time.Not for me.

She hadn’t given me her name that night, so knowing it now felt like a taste of forbidden fruit. More knowledge I shouldn’t want.More poison.

“I saw it on the news.” I cleared my throat, noting the unmarked police car parked in front of the house next door to Wheaton’s.

Talon knew I’d used lethal force on Lorenz to save a woman’s life, but I’d told him—and Harm—that I hardly saw the woman before she’d run off.

“Alright, their internal file shows Manning worked as a substitute teacher at the school where Wheaton’s son, Max, is enrolled, and interviews indicate she was also privately tutoring the son.” He rattled off the investigation details while I took a turn into the park across the street, strolling slowly as I continued to assess the perimeter of the house and the best access point to get inside. “Looks like they have security footage from the house the morning of the murder showing Manning entering the home, and then about fifteen minutes later, the feed is corrupted, which is about ten minutes or so before the coroner’s TOD.”

“Shit.” I exhaled through my tight lips, my breath fogging in the cold February air. “They know no one else was in the house?”

He made a low noise while he looked. “Housekeeper said it was only Wheaton inside, and he told her to take the morning off. Time stamp puts her leaving five minutes before Merritt’s arrival.”

“So, the housekeeper leaves. Five minutes later, Merritt arrives. Fifteen minutes later, we lose security footage. And in another ten, Wheaton is dead,” I recapped as my mind cycled through the information. “That’s a pretty fucking tight timeline.”But that wasn’t what bugged me.“Why was she there if the son wasn’t home?”

“Working theory is that it was a lover’s quarrel that went south,” he said instantly. “Sorry, thought I mentioned that earlier. Police believe the two were romantically involved, they fought, she killed him, and then ran.”

No.I froze, something hot exploding in my chest—a bomb made of sharp nails and heavy bolts of jealousy.

“The cake doesn’t belong to him.”

I cleared my throat and dragged in a deep breath, willing the cold air to halt the way I suddenly burned.

She wasn’t mine. I hadn’t even known her name.I only knew the way she’d reached for me. Fucked me.Like neither of us had breathed before that moment.

But she’d been on Wheaton’s arm that night. I saw the way he looked at her—treated her. He was a man trying to impress a woman… and she hadn’t been that impressed.Maybe watching me kill a man had changed her mind.

“Rhys?”

“Thanks for the intel,” I clipped, realizing I’d been silent for too long. “I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

Lovers.

I swallowed, and it was like staples scraping down my throat.Had they become lovers? Had she realized who Wheaton was and what he did? Did he try to hurt her and it had been self-defense?

I shoved my phone into my pocket like it could take my thoughts with it, otherwise, I’d drive myself crazy. She was a woman I’d saved, a woman I’d fucked, and now, either a suspect or a victim—but it wasn’t my gut that made that decision, only the facts.

I turned toward my destination: the house next door. The homes on the street were close together—not even an alley or a fence separated many of them. Most had a similar layout, with a garage directly off the street and then a flight of steps that led from the sidewalk to the front door.

I casually strolled up those stairs belonging to the house next door to Wheaton’s and followed the walkway along the side of the house. The windows of Wheaton’s home were drawn completely shut.Figured.In the back,a fence separatedWheaton’s yard from his neighbors—a fence Iquietly hoisted myself over and onto his property.

Yesterday, it was probably swarming with police and detectives, but by today,the crime scene had been processed, the house as silent as a tomb, and the unmarked car out front the only piece of the investigation that lingered.

The backyard was well-enclosed, but I noted a similar walkway to the one I’d been on next door; it led from the front of the house to the yard, and in theory, another person could’ve gained entrance to the house from it in those few minutes between the footage being tampered with and Wheaton’s time of death.

Because my gut was telling me it wasn’t Merritt.My gut and something else.

I closed my eyes and saw her face—every beautiful dip and swellrendered into pure panic when she’d looked back at Lorenz, gasping for air and watching as I killed him.

A woman who looked like that didn’t murder a doctor. Not like this. Not planned when the maid was out. Not altering the security feeds.Not premeditated.Someone planned to murder Les Wheaton, and I’d bet my life it wasn’t Merritt Manning.

I reached the back door, testing the knob gently and surprised to find it unlocked.Fucking sloppy.No wonder SFPD needed to call in Armorous for backup—they couldn’t even manage to properly secure a crime scene.

The door opened with perfect silence into a small dining area attached to the kitchen—where the murder had occurred. The body was gone, but everything else was still taped up, marking around the blood stains where Wheaton had bled out from his stab wounds.

I walked slowly through the space. The table and chairs were all in their places, suggesting that neither Wheaton nor Merritt had been sitting when the argument occurred.If anargument occurred.No food on the stove or on the counter, so they hadn’t been eating. No coffee in the process of brewing.

---