Page 23 of The Verdict

“The woman wanted for murder, and you brought her here,” the other man replied low, measuring me just as surely as I assessed him.

Tynan was older than Rhys. It wasn’t the gray peppered in his hair or the creases on his brow that gave it away, but his eyes—a deep green that was murky with wisdom and loss. I recognized the look because it was the same one Mamá had when she looked at me after Papá died. A kind of forlorn responsibility hanging over him like a cloud.

“I didn’t kill Les Wheaton.”

“She was at his place looking for proof of her innocence when I got there,” Rhys said slowly. “Figured we’d have better luck getting to the bottom of this than if I turned her over to the police.”

I felt heat rise in my cheeks.Rhys hadn’t told his friends about me—about our encounter at the holiday party. Did they even know he’d killed someone that night?

Ty dragged his attention back to me, barreling his arms to his chest. “So, if you didn’t kill him, then who did?”

Mercury. But I had no idea who Mercury was. That was the point of the nicknames. Between that and the masks, it was the reason the Cosmos Gang had eluded authorities for so long. All part of Jupiter’s mastermind.

“There was another man at the house that morning. Came in through the back and attacked Wheaton in the kitchen,” Rhys interjected low, quickly ticking through what I’d told him earlier. “And then he went after Merritt.”

“Interesting.” Ty angled his head as he looked to me and then to Rhys, something unspoken passing between them. “You saw him?” he said to me.

I nodded. “Tall. Built. Tan complexion with dark hair and amustache and beard.” I pressed my fingers to my upper lip, dragging them around my mouth to indicate where Mercury’s beard was. “Like Guy Fawkes.”

“And you didn’t recognize him?”

“No.” The word moved easily from my lips.Fake.But I didn’t have time for the twinge of guilt that pierced my chest. My past didn’t matter—not if Les was the one working with them.

That was what I wanted to know—why they believed a well-known and respected surgeon was working with criminals?

“See if you can get security footage from neighboring houses for that day and the days before. Maybe it wasn’t the first time he’d come to the house,” Rhys clipped, pausing before he added, “And pull the hotel security feeds from the night I went to Wheaton’s holiday party. Maybe he was there, too.”

Ty didn’t acknowledge him right away. Instead, his steely gaze remained focused on me, “Do you have any idea why Wheaton was killed?”

My eyes went wide. “No,” I blurted out. “I was his son’s Spanish teacher—tutor. I went to the house once a week to help Max, but that’s it.” I felt the burn of tears in the corner of my eyes. “Oh, god…” I turned my head away. Max was such a good kid. Sweet. Thoughtful. He put so much pressure on himself to do well in school—to please his dad—it was heart-wrenching. I tilted my head in Rhys’s direction and asked, “Where’s Max? Does he know…”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes flicked to Ty and then back to me. “He’s safe with relatives.”

“So, you weren’t involved with Wheaton?” Ty paused and added, “Romantically.”

My fist balled, but I held the burst of irritation at bay. It was a fair question even though it angered me, but I didn’t let it show;Iwas Merritt Manning, substitute Spanish teacher accused of murder.Not Merritt Vilaró, jewel thief who’d fled Barcelona in men’s clothes with an eighteen-carat diamond stowed against my chest.Rhys, on the other hand, tensed beside me, his frustration radiating off him in waves as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the tattoo on his wrist. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“No, I wasn’t.”Real.And then I turned the conversation on the two of them. “Why was Les killed?” I demanded. “You said he worked with criminals. I don’t understand. He was a doctor.”

I played the innocent schoolteacher—like it was unfathomable for doctors to do bad things. As unfathomable as it was for me to be accused of murder.Or to be a thief.

Ty lifted an eyebrow and looked at Rhys.Maybe he hadn’t been supposed to tell me that.

“Wheaton provided criminals with the ultimate escape,” Rhys said as Ty rounded the desk and bent over the computer. “He surgically altered or completely reconstructed the appearances of many of the world’s most elusive criminals. Noses. Brows. Jawlines. He’ll remove scars, add filler—whatever it takes so the patient would never be mistaken for their former self.”

“The ultimate new identity,” Ty muttered, but his voice sounded distant as the truth sank in.

Reconstructed… appearance…

“No…” The oxygen in the room evaporated, my lung struggling to work for a second as it hit me what that meant.

Les altered criminals’ faces. Made them unrecognizable. Mars and Mercury looked the same, but Jupiter… He could’ve altered Jupiter’s face.My chest felt tight. Imprisoned without oxygen.I could’ve seen him that night at the party and never known. Walked right by him.

Panic tightened its grip around my throat.I was being hunted by a man I wouldn’t be able to recognize.

“Jesus, Merritt.” Rhys grabbed my shoulders and steadied me. I didn’t even realize I’d started to tip—the weight of my thoughts too heavy to keep me upright.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked and pressed my hand to my chest, struggling to breathe. “I just… I can’t believe it—can’t believe all of this.”Real.

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