Page 28 of The Verdict

I didn’t doubt he’d dug into Merritt. It was how we’d approach any other case, but still, it didn’t sit right that they knew more about herthan I did.

“Born in the US. Father was a police officer in San Francisco, killed on duty in a drug bust. Mother was from Spain and moved back there with their daughter after his death. Not much after that until her mom passed away when she was nineteen. From there, a few jobs as a nanny until five years ago when she returned to California and took a teaching position.”

She’d lost both her parents. I rocked back on my heels, trying not to let any emotion slip through.

“So, no sordid criminal past,” I said pointedly. “Maybe now we can drop the idea that she killed Wheaton.”

“You saved her that night…” Dare said slowly, and when I looked at him, it was like I could see that tiny thread weaving a larger image in his head.Shit.“Did you sleep with her?” His question slithered out softly like a snake presenting everyone else with the fruit of knowledge, and the room went completely silent. “Tell me you slept with a murder suspect.”

My gaze locked with Harm. I wouldn’t answer Dare, but if my commanding officer—my boss—the president of the Vigilantes—demanded the answer, then I’d tell him the truth.

I’d fucked her once in the city—and every night after in my dreams.

“Are you involved with her now?” Harm navigated the information with deft respect.

“No.”

“Fucking hell?—”

“Enough, Dare. We need answers?—”

“And you’re going to trust Rhys to fuck them out of her?”

Before I knew what was happening, I launched toward him. The table skidded, and a chair crashed like collateral to the floor. And then I hit a wall—Harm—as he stepped between me and his brother.

“I’m going to trust Rhys because she obviously trusts him,” Harm said low, his gaze never breaking mine as he spoke. “You saved her life. You earned her trust. And now, you’re responsible for getting the truth out of her.”

“She didn’t?—”

“Just because she didn’t kill Wheaton doesn’t mean she doesn’t know something.” Harm’s voice of reason commandeered the conversation. “Rob said Wheaton kept a file—a flash drive of all his criminal clients. Before and after photos. Identities. Addresses. Including Ivans.”

How…I shook my head. I didn’t want to know how the hell Rob found the information she did.

“We need to find that flash drive.”

“Yeah, us and every criminal on it,” Dare uttered.

I widened my stance. “Should we check his office?”

“Rob already did. Nothing there.” Harm shook his head.

“I asked Talon to go back through the house and make sure the police didn’t miss anything.” The police only cared about the murder of a prominent plastic surgeon—not the trove of new faces he’d given the world’s most wanted criminals. “I’ll have him check the police files, too, and make sure they didn’t come across it.”

“Doubt he’d keep it in the same place his kid lives. Too dangerous,” Ty said with a low voice, and there was a collective grunt of agreement. “I’ll continue to look for other holdings in Wheaton’s name or any business aliases he might have.”

Harm turned to me. “Merritt’s been around Wheaton for months. Overheard names. Places. Discussions. Saw faces thatshe doesn’t recognize, but we do. Hell, maybe even the son said something to her. She could know more than she realizes about the flash drive and where it’s located.”

It was possible. More plausible than her being a murderer.

“You saved Merritt’s life—saved her from the police,” Harm said and lowered his voice. “You have more of her trust than the rest of us, so use it to get answers. Anything she knows could be valuable.”

I met his eyes for a long moment before conceding with a jerk of my chin. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then went over to talk to Ty. When I looked back, Dare was coming toward me. He paused when we stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Careful,” he said low. “You look like you care about her.”

“I care because she’s in trouble. Because she’s being falsely accused of murder. We should all care.” That was the whole point of the Vigilantes—not only to bring down those who’d escaped justice, but to champion those whom justice had failed.

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