Oh, shit.
I disconnected the laptop from the power cord and carried it to Rule’s office.
“What’s up?” He didn’t bother to look up from his computer.
I walked in and set the computer in front of him, spinning it so he could see the screen. He glanced at it briefly, then looked up at me.
“What am I looking at?”
I pointed to the box.
“What is it?”
I waited for him to read it. When he did, his eyebrows slowly rose toward his hairline.
He leaned back in his chair. “Monica’s getting married.”
I nodded. That wasn’t the problem.
I pointed at the screen again. It was who she was marrying that was the issue. But I figured it would only take a moment for Rule’s ridiculously impressive brain to skim all those notes it had photographed over the years until he came up with—
“Devon Ledger.” Rule looked at me. “He’s a family law attorney.”
I nodded. One of the best in the business.
I turned the computer around and typed a few words into the search engine before turning it back to Rule so he could read the article.
Devon Ledger was responsible for getting that pop star deemed unfit to care for herself after she was photographed at a party that was later reported to have alcohol. The woman had gone to rehab in her twenties, and there were no reports of her relapsing—not before then or at that party. However, with Devon Ledger’s help, the woman’s estranged father had used that information against her. The judge awarded the woman’s father conservatorship over her fortune as well as her person. At thirty-seven, her right to decide for herself had practically been terminated.
After he finished reading, Rule looked up at me. “She wouldn’t.”
I canted my head because we both knew she would. In a heartbeat.
“Fuck.” Rule leaned back in his chair. “What do you think we should do?”
I turned the computer around and opened a blank document. It was easier than texting.
SHENEEDSTOKNOWTHETRUTH.
I spun the computer back around.
“The truth? About what?”
ALLOFIT.
I could tell by his expression that he didn’t want to go that route. I didn’t blame him. In the past couple of months, we’d built a good thing with Laikyn. Although Rule had never said anything, he was as in love with her as I was. Telling her the truth would rip the rug right out from under us. But if we didn’t, there was a good chance Monica Quinn was going to do something drastic. I wouldn’t put it past the woman. And I wouldn’t put it past her to be doing this as a preemptive strike, waiting for the ninety days to be up before she went in for the kill. At that point, she would get her hands on the small fortune Laikyn’s father had left for her, and there would be nothing Laikyn could do about it.
I typed another message and turned the computer around.
IFSHEWANTSTOAMBUSHHER,AMENTALHEALTHFUNDRAISERISTHEPERFECTPLACETODOIT.
Rule shook his head. “I can’t tell her. Not yet.”
I nodded. Ultimately, it was his decision. Not mine.
“Get Rhyan in here,” Rule instructed.
I left my computer on his desk and went to Rhyan’s office. I knocked on the doorjamb to get her attention. When she looked up, I canted my head toward Rule’s office.
