Page 38 of Reaper & the Lioness
Matt let out a tight laugh. “Come on. That isn’t funny.”
“Matt, I’m serious. We’re getting close to exposing Hale. Benjamin put a bounty on my head. A million dollars. I’d be dead if it weren’t for … one of my clients.”
His eyebrows shot up, interest piqued. “Who?”
I shook my head, a flicker of unease settling in my stomach. “Matt, you know I can’t disclose client information. You shouldn’t even be asking.”
His expression hardened. “Don’t you think at least one person should know where you are in case something happens?”
“A friend knows because of her … association with the client. They saved my life. Twice in one night. I trust them.”
Hawk let out two excited barks and a small howl as if on cue. Reaper stepped inside, scooping up the pup before he could latch onto his clothing.
Matt let out a deep sigh. “I don’t like this. We need to meet up when I’m in Houston. I have more leads to share. I found two women who might be willing to talk—on the record, this time.”
I hesitated but pushed on. Reaper already knew about our investigation into Hale’s abuse. It wouldn’t hurt for him to listen in on this part of the conversation.
“Who are they? What do you know?”
Matt rustled some papers at his desk. “Ruth Wass worked for Hale as an intern a few years ago. She filed a police report after he allegedly assaulted her but dropped the charges a day later.”
He paused as he sorted through the disorganized pile of paper. Given the chaotic state of his desk, I struggled to understand how this man ever filed a story on time.
“And then Paige Villa. She’d worked as a contractor at a gala, raising money for one of their charities. She was attacked after the event. But it was dark, so Hale wasn’t named. But the description of the attacker fits, and he attended the event. We need to meet with both of them.”
I glanced at Reaper, who shook his head at Matt’s insistent request.
“Email me the information. I can’t go anywhere right now.”
Matt’s jaw clenched, frustration evident. “I promised my editor this story. We are so close.”
I bristled at his tone and jumped as Reaper slammed a cupboard harder than necessary. I glared at him before returning to my screen.
“Who’s there with you?” Matt asked, his curiosity invasive.
“My personal chef,” I quipped, forcing a smirk. “And we agreed not to involve your editor until the story was locked down. So that sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Email me what you’ve found, and we’ll go from there. I’ll check if the information aligns with what my sources are sharing.”
His eyes hardened. “Fine, I’ll send the info. But these women won’t leave a paper trail. They’ll only meet in person. I’ll find a spot to meet. And maybe you could consider giving me the names of your latest sources, too. Just to make sure we aren’t duplicating work.”
I rolled my eyes. It drove him crazy that I refused to reveal all of my sources. I trusted Matt, but Amy had only been willing to share her story as long as I kept her name a secret—even from the journalist who would publish the story.
“Bye,” I said, ending the call and pushing the laptop away.
Reaper glanced at me as he methodically chopped a carrot into perfect bite-sized pieces. “You’re not going to meet anyone right now.”
I figured as much. I wouldn’t press him on it … yet.
“Who is Matt?”
“A friend from college. He’s an investigative journalist. He promised to write the story if I can get enough women to speak out against Hale and how Abell Enterprises has covered up his violent tendencies.”
My phone pinged, an email with attachments coming through from Matt. “We’re so close. These new leads could help us break the story.”
Chapter Sixteen
The scent of sizzling vegetables filled the cabin, mingling with the earthy aroma of the log walls. Eva perched on a stool at the counter. I found myself asking about her school days, hobbies, and career—genuinely curious about the woman behind the sharp wit and seeking to understand how she kept a dark side hidden beneath the professional facade.
Hawk circled our feet. His nails clicked against the hardwood floor as he hoped for a morsel to drop. I shooed him away with my foot, earning a disappointed whine.
