Page 35 of Forged in Peril

Sitting on her desk was a still-hot green tea and a bacon and egg breakfast sandwich, as well as an almond croissant. There was another note beside it, this one scrawled on a takeout bag from the Screaming Peach Cafe. It said simply to check her phone, so she did so, just in time for it to ping with a new text message from Cameron.

She looked around the room, wondering if he was somehow watching her, before remembering that only the main legal department area had any security cameras.

Iris assured me that you’d want bacon, not sausage, so hopefully she’s right. I still think it’s weird that you won’t even try coffee (Green tea is more bitter! It makes no sense!) but I suppose I’ll have to pick my battles.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m driving with Reilly to Corpus Christi right now. We have to secure a safehouse for a VIP client, but I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be the one watching your house later - Reilly and Asher need sleep, and everyone else is busy. I hope that’s okay.

Have a good breakfast and a great day!

Despite her annoyance that he wanted to continue surveillance on her house, and the unwanted skipping of her heart at the thought of him being so close while she slept, she couldn’t help but to be touched by the gesture.

She glanced up at the clock. Jaclyn would be here soon, and she would want an update on the tax fraud cases. Bristol took her tea in one hand and unwrapped her breakfast sandwich with the other, determined to get everything eaten before her boss arrived.

Before she’d taken two bites of the steaming meal, however, Grace appeared at her door, giving only a quick knock before bursting in.

“I have good news and bad news,” she said, sounding almost breathless, a gleam of excitement in her blue eyes. “Which one first?”

Bristol chewed the bite of food and swallowed, reluctantly setting the sandwich down on her desk next to the croissant. “Bad news first.”

Grace pressed a freshly manicured nail–glittery purple this time–to her lip. “Actually, they’re kind of the same news.”

“Just tell me, Hinton,” Bristol said, reaching for her tea and taking a sip before she lost her patience entirely.

Grace closed the office door behind her and slid into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk, her expression suddenly serious. Bristol felt her mouth going dry, and she quickly took another swig of tea. Whatever it was, she wanted to know.

“Okay,” she said. “Dillon Warrington couldn’t have been responsible for your car being trashed, or for the potential break-in at your house.”

Bristol waited for her to explain, but already, her thoughts were racing. If he wasn’t responsible, who was? Was it possible that it had been a coordinated effort, and that he was just keeping his own nose clean and letting someone else do the dirty work?

Grace’s next words, however, left no room for that possibility.

“He turned up dead two weeks ago. Suspected suicide. Died of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

Bristol set her tea down hard, the warm liquid sloshing side to side within the walls of the paper cup.

She could think of nothing to say.

All this time, she’d been looking over her shoulder, searching for him in every shadow, and now that he was gone, she didn’t know how she should feel.

She couldn’t quite bring herself to be relieved, and even though she’d hardly shed a tear for the man after what he’d done to her, there was a sadness that she couldn’t shake.

There would be no redemption for Warrington now, no chance to seek forgiveness for the evil he’d done. He’d chosen another path, and there was no way back.

Bristol felt a shiver sliding through her.

Even though she hadn’t been on the best of terms with the Almighty in recent years, she couldn’t help but to be thankful for the faith that she still held within her heart, however weak it had become. Even in the darkest early days of the aftermath, she’d never pushed so far into hating herself that she’d considered taking her own life.

Apparently, for Dillon Warrington, the guilt had been too much to bear, and however much he had deserved to die, she wouldn’t celebrate the fact that he’d taken matters into his own hands.

“Are you okay?” Grace said, reaching over and resting her fingertips along Bristol’s forearm.

“I think so,” she said, reaching out and ripping off a piece of her croissant before stuffing it into her mouth. Chewing was a distraction, and she was hungry.

“I think you need to consider talking to Cam, Bristol,” Grace continued. “I know you aren’t thrilled about the idea, but this is a big lead.”

Bristol shook her head, swallowing the sweetness of the croissant before replying.

“How so? Our main suspect–really, our only suspect–is dead. How will that help us to figure out who’s after me?”

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