Page 117 of Hard Pass

“I’ve had a lot of employees over the years,” he says. “A lot of great ones.” He pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re the last person I ever thought would cross that line.”

Each word he says is another twist of the knife. I deserve every one of them.

“I didn’t plan this,” I say quieter now. “But I know it doesn’t change the facts.”

His eyes narrow. “What facts?”

“Cole is clean.” I say with certainty because it’s the only leg I have left to stand on. “I’ve seen everything. The accounts, the betting patterns, the timing. He didn’t do this. He was unknowingly relaying a ‘tell.’ Someone’s caught it and is using it to their advantage.”

Marcus studies me, lips pursed and eyes unforgiving. “Well, your actions have pretty much ensured that no one will believe that.”

“I can prove it. I’ll show you everything I have. I was in the process of composing the report for you. Once you read it, you’ll see he’s clean—”

“Who’s doing the betting?”

“What?” I startle. “I don’t know yet, but—”

“But you were compiling a report to prove Valor had nothing to do with it before you even finished the investigation and all avenues associated with it.” His lips pulled tight. “We never do that—report findings before all angles are resolved. That’s not our protocol and you know it. The report is the report when all is said and done. And here you are making adjustments to it for the man you were sleeping with, but I’m not supposed to think you’re not giving him favorable treatment or are jaded in your analysis?”

“I didn’t. I wasn’t. Marcus, you have to believe me,” I beg but it falls on deaf ears. “The data. The . . .”

“Dublin.” His voice is calm. Too calm. “The lead investigator sleeping with the subject of the investigation doesn’t get to present a credible conclusion—and especially not when it’s half-assed.”

He walks toward the window, head shaking and disappointment palpable. I feel every single step as he does.

“You compromised the case,” he says and just like that, everything I’ve built . . . fractures. “And now, even if you’re right, it won’t matter because it looks like you were protecting him.”

“I’m not protecting him. I was doing my job just like I always do without bias. I am telling the truth.”

“Well, no one will be able to separate the two.”

Silence crashes down between us. It’s heavy and unforgiving.

Guilt creeps in, slow and insidious.

Because he’s not wrong.

“We have to find out who’s responsible,” I say, pushing for the sake of redemption. “That’s the only way to clear him completely.”

Marcus’s expression remains unchanged. “That’ll look like a fishing expedition to cover your ass and my company’s reputation.”

“It’s not. There’s a pattern. Someone on the inside—most likely someone in the Rebels organization—is using Cole’s tell to profit. It still matters that I close this case. To stop the insider trading. It still—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

It’s like a door slamming.

“It matters to him that his name is cleared,” I say.

“It matters to you,” he says, and the rebuke stings. “And that’s all anyone will see, Dublin. Either he seduced you to skew your opinion—which in that case makes him look even more guilty and more of a slimeball. Or you slept with him and compromised your investigation, which is just as damning to you and your reputation. There is no way to walk this back and save face. For him. For you. For the company.”

The first tear slips over. “Just tell me what I need to do to make this right,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “You can’t.” The finality in his voice makes it hard to breathe. “I’m taking you off the case effective immediately.”

“I’m sorry, Marcus.” The words are practically a plea. “I made a mistake. I put you in jeopardy.”

“I believe every word you’re saying, Dublin. I do because I know the person I thought you were, and while that person clearly made a mistake, I don’t doubt that your work is impeccable. But that still doesn’t give me a choice in how to move forward.”