Professional boundaries exist for a reason. I have been doing this work long enough to know that. And right now, what Rhea needs is someone who will look at the evidence without bias.
I sit and type a short response to the RidgeLine contact.
Still reviewing. No conclusions yet.
It is not a lie. It is also not the whole truth.
I gather the file and lock the office. The drive out of town is peaceful. Pine Hollow thins fast, buildings giving way to trees and elevation. My cabin sits where the road narrows, far enough out to discourage casual visitors. I prefer it that way. The work I do requires space, distance, and the freedom to think without interruption.
I set the file on my kitchen table and open my laptop. Cross-referencing takes time, but patterns do not hide forever. I find it within twenty minutes.
A temporary permissions change logged after business hours. Changed just long enough to reroute transactions without triggering automated alerts. The timestamp places it outside Rhea's normal work schedule.
I close the laptop and lean back in my chair, looking out the window at the mountains rising dark beyond the trees.
So, my gut was right. She didn’t do it.
I picture her sitting across from me, her cheeks red with defiance.Fierce and beautiful.
My phone buzzes again. And this time, it is a text from Rhea.
Let me know what else you need from me.I’ll help however I can.
I mull this over. She could be extremely useful. I’m not entirely sure who to trust at RidgeLine now. Have they given me all the information I need? She has access to additional information and files. But I also don’t want to get her into trouble. And this will only work if no one in the company catches on that she’s working with me.
I type back.
We’ll have to be careful. No one at RidgeLine can know we’re workingtogether. I think we should meet somewhere private. My house, if that works for you?
She responds almost immediately.
Send the address.
So, I do.
I set the phone down and stare out at the mountains again. This was a simple case of embezzlement, but it feels more personal now. The stakes are higher. Because someone’s messing with Rhea. Trying to set her up as the fall-guy.
And that pisses me the fuck off.
Though I’ve just met her, I know enough about her already to know she doesn’t deserve that. Not at all.
As far as I’m concerned,she’smy client now. I’ll find who did this… forher.
Chapter Three
Rhea
Gideon'scabinsitsfartherup the mountain than I expected.
The paved road ended a mile back. What follows is gravel and switchbacks and a stretch of trees dense enough to block out most of the sky. One wrong turn and I would end up stuck or worse.
As I white-knuckle my way up the mountain, it occurs to me for the thousandth time that this is probably a really bad idea. Under normal circumstances, I’d never meet a man I barely know at his remote cabin in the woods. I’ve seen too many movies and read enough books to know it’s foolish.Especiallywhen the man is a detective who probably knows a dozen good ways to dispose of my body.
And speaking of my body…there’s also the fact that I spent all night tossing and turning as I dreamed of his body on top of mine.
The man is entirely too attractive.
And then there’s the fact that if the actual embezzler finds out that I’m working with Gideon to track them down, my life could very well be in danger.
