CHAPTER THREE
BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON, Mars was dead.
Cause not yet ruled, but it looked like suicide. Maybe if he hadn’t been out on bail, he’d still be alive to face justice.
The fucker had taken the easy way out.
The news broke at two, as Jeff was on his way to Steele Security to use the computer. And, okay, yes, to check on Tara.
In the last week, theWashington Posthadrun several stories on Mars and the dozens of women and girls who had come forward with their own accusations, and printed an interview with Tara above the fold in today’s paper.
Reporters congregated outside the high-rise building in Arlington where Steele had its offices, and Jeff wouldn’t be surprised if they harassed her at home too. He was all for a free press—a democracy couldn’t functionwithout it—but being the subject of their unrelenting scrutiny had to suck.
Tara emerged from the doorway to the left of her desk with an empty mug hanging loosely from her red-tipped fingers. Her shiny black hair fell well past her shoulders and she looked both alluring and professional in a black-and-white striped dress that hugged her slender curves.
Curves he had no business noticing,goddammit.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a warm smile as she slid behind the desk and set down her cup. “You’ve had a busy week,” she said, probably referring to the pen test he’d been running for an insurance company in Maryland. Their security had been tight, but not tight enough to keep him out.
He returned the smile before he thought better of it. “Probably not as busy as yours.”
She tiltedher head and elegantly lifted one shoulder. In fact, he couldn’t think of anything she did that wasn’t elegant.
Stop it.
“Things are going smoothly in Brazil,” she said, “and with the office so quiet, I’m getting a lot done.”
“I meant thePostinterview. The press camped outside.”
A scowl marred her sweet face. “Oh. Yeah, that’s been…annoying. I’ve dealt with it before. I’ll survive.”
“The article was really well done, but it couldn’t have been easy for you.”
She bit her lower lip and nodded. “It wasn’t exactly fun, but my story is nothing compared to the others.”
“Hopefully, now that he’s dead, they’ll find something else to talk about and leave you alone.”
She went perfectly still. “Who’s dead?”
Jeff’s raised an eyebrow. Had she not heard? “Mars. Someone found himthis morning.”
Her lips parted on a gasp. “Oh.” She sank into her desk chair and looked up at him. “How?”
“Nothing’s official, but it looks like suicide.”
All the air shuddered out of her and she pressed her palms to her forehead for a moment before meeting his gaze. “I can’t say I’m sorry.” Her dark eyes glistened. “He was…vile. But part of me is disappointed he won’t face his punishment,even though this is probably the safest option for everyone. No worries about him getting off on a technicality or something.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s a form of justice for Emily. And his other victims.”
“And you,” Jeff said, advancing until he could lean his forearms on the counter that fronted her desk.
She snagged a ballpoint pen that lay on the desktop and rolled it between her fingers. “That’sdifferent. I knew what I was getting into.”
“Tara,” he said, waiting until her gaze met his. “Knowing and living are two different things.”
A slight shake of her head dismissed his concern. “I’m fine.” She stared him down. “And you didn’t drive all the way over here to tell me about Mars.”
