Page 37 of Beautiful Evidence

I slide the burner into my pocket and push open the rear door, stepping into the courtyard. The air is cool, and the quiet finally feels like peace. No one’s watching or listening. I stop at the far end, near the old stone fountain, and rest my hand on the edge while I think. My mind has been scrambled for days and I need the silence to make sense of this mess.

I need a plan. Something that doesn’t involve more blood, something that protects her without tanking the rest of us. I’vegot ideas—half-formed and messy—but I know I’ll need help. This can’t be just me this time.

But the problem isn’t only tactical. It’s personal. Every time I go to her, I lose focus. She gets under my skin, scrambles my judgment, and I end up saying things I shouldn’t, wanting things I can’t afford to want.

My phone buzzes again—but not the burner. It’s my personal cell.

I pull it out just as I reach the car, and the screen's lit up.

Alessia: 3:23 AM: We need to talk. NOW.

I stare at the message for a long second. She’s not wrong. I need to talk to her as soon as possible, but I can’t until I have my head on straight. Not without a plan in place, not when I’m still patching holes in this ship.

I type slowly to make sure I don't make any mistakes.

Vincenzo: 3:29 AM: I can’t. Not tonight. Give me 24 hours. I’ll come to you. It’s time to do the right thing.

I send it and pocket the phone again, resting my hands on the roof of the car. I know what has to be done. And for the first time in weeks, I think I see a way through.

23

ALESSIA

Iwalk into the lab trying to act like everything is normal. I sit at my station and start logging slides, but my nerves are shot. Every time the door opens, I brace myself. It feels like they're coming to get me, and I panic. I keep expecting someone to call my name, to say they're here to arrest me. I force myself to keep working through the morning, reviewing chain-of-custody logs. I go through the motions because I have to, even though my hands aren’t steady.

Rory walked me in this morning and didn’t say a word about why Enzo wasn't around or why suddenly, he was right beside me instead of trailing behind me at a distance. And his silence said more than anything he could warn me about. I got the feeling he wasn't happy about his job of walking me to work, but I didn't ask.

I haven’t heard from Enzo since the message now more than twenty-four hours ago. He told me to wait, so I’m waiting. But I’m barely holding it together.

When the elevator chimes just past noon, I know something’s wrong. There’s a shift in the room—it's subtle, but I feel everyonetense, even Dr. Bernardi. I glance up, already dreading what I’ll see, and Detective Sergeant Elena Greco walks in like she owns the place. Her hair is perfectly done, every strand in place like it was just set by a stylist. She wears a slate-gray suit and carries no trace of a smile. Her badge is clipped high, and she crosses the lab with her eyes focused on me.

She doesn’t greet anyone, and Dr. Bernardi hardly looks up from his computer. Her presence alone does the talking. It clears the space around her like she’s radioactive. If shadows could run away, I'm sure they would.

"Ms. Leone," she says evenly, stopping two feet from my bench. Her eyes scan the room once before settling back on me. She’s already decided no one else in this room is of significance. "A moment." She tilts her head toward the hallway, expecting obedience without needing to raise her voice. That badge tells me I don't have a choice, so I sigh and push my stool back slowly and follow her down the hall without a word.

My pulse is thready, hand perched over the outside of my pocket where I can feel it vibrate if I get a notification. I want to call Enzo, but clearly, now isn't the time. She doesn’t speak until we’re in one of the unused conference rooms, the door clicking softly behind us.

"We’ve reviewed your case notes, every revision we’ve tracked so far." She remains standing, arms loosely crossed. Her stance makes it clear that she thinks this is a formality. That simply by showing up here with her badge on display, I will do whatever she wants.

I hold my neutral expression despite wanting to run away scared. "Then you know there’s nothing conclusive yet."Steadying my voice, I place both hands at my sides to keep them steady, wiggling my fingers so they stop shaking.

She studies me like I’m a puzzle as her eyes rake over my face "There’s plenty—enough to build out a timeline, evidence of foul play, and a link to the Costa operation directly." Her words are clipped and precise. She’s not trying to persuade me at all because she thinks she knows everything. But the only way she'd know the facts is if I reported them, and I haven't. And no one else has touched that body but me.

My arms stay rigid at my sides as I study her face. Her lips flatten at the end of each statement like punctuation, her weight shifting slightly from heel to heel. She stays perfectly measured—the way a good detective should. She’s already decided how this ends, and nothing I say will change it.

"Let me be clear," she continues. "I'm not here to pressure you the way Dr. Bernardi would. I'm here to tell you the facts. If you don’t submit a final report by tomorrow, we’ll proceed with obstruction." She touches her badge lightly like it needs to be straightened. The gesture is intentional, meant to signal authority rather than invite discussion.

My chest feels too tight in my blouse. I shift my weight and fold my arms. The move makes me feel safer, but I know I'm withdrawing.

"I haven’t completed the tox panel rerun." I draw a shallow breath, trying not to show how cornered I feel.

She lifts her brows, unimpressed. "That’s not what your timestamped data shows. You’re stalling. And I know why." Her voice tightens slightly. She sounds like she’s tired of pretending we’re both professionals here.

I meet her gaze without blinking. "Then you should also know that tampering allegations go both ways." I meet her gaze without flinching, spine straight, though my stomach twists with the lie. No one has been tampering except me, and my words are baseless accusations, but I feel trapped.

Elena smiles faintly, but there’s nothing warm behind it. "You think you’re protecting your father. I get it. Loyalty’s a complicated thing. But when the indictments come down, you're not the one they’ll offer a deal to. He is." She speaks slower now, enunciating every word with careful intent, as if she wants me to remember them all. "He has the Costa secrets and you're dispensable. Be smart, Leone. Don't throw away your career for this."

I feel the burn rising under my skin that makes it difficult to swallow. Fire boils in my blood, anger bubbling so deep in my chest and gut, I almost can't stop the screech of rage that demands to leap out of my throat in her direction.

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