“We can work through that list, but I don’t want to be foolish and discount the possibility that it could be someone in your professional life.”
“Okay,” she quickly agrees, but makes no movement to climb off my lap.
“I do my best in all areas of my life,” she says, and her tears renew, dampening my shirt further. “I just want families to be stronger, and I want children living in safe homes.”
“I understand completely, but more often than not someone is on the losing end of a family law case. They feel like they’re owed something, and if they can’t have the children who may have been taken away, revenge on you is the next best thing.”
I hate those words had to come out of my mouth, but I don’t want her exerting all of her efforts on her personal past and neglecting to consider someone from work.
Chapter 26
Faith
“We’re wasting time,” Ethan grumbles as I type on my computer.
“It’s necessary,” Lana says as she looks out my office window.
She offered to help when Ethan was speaking with Kincaid about our plans for this afternoon. She has experience working in a law office because she interned at one when she was in school working on her paralegal degree.
“This person is trying to ruin my reputation, and I can’t leave anything open for argument when we finally catch them,” I tell him as my fingers continue to work over the keys. “See? I’m done. Now I just need signatures, and both of you will have to witness the other forms.”
I pull the papers from the printer beside my desk and hand each of them the ones with their information on it.
They sign the documents, making them both official employees of my law office, giving them legal access to my files as well as ensuring they know the level of confidentiality required to look through them.
I don’t know if this is going to protect me when we hand over our list to Max, but I’ll have to worry about that later. Something I’ll be incapable of doing if whoever wants to hurt me is successful.
“I’ll have to pay you out of petty cash, but once all of this is over, I’ll have an I-9 for each of you.”
Lana scoffs, telling me she isn’t expecting to get paid.
The look in Ethan’s eyes is also very clear. He’s not interested in cash payments, but he’s more than willing to work it out in trade many other ways.
I shake my head at him, a small smile playing on my lips. I’m thrilled that he can still want me that way with as much trouble as I’ve caused for him.
“Are we ready to get started?” Lana asks, breaking into the trance Ethan’s holding me under.
We get to work, chatting easily as we go through files. I’m reading names, pulling details from memory, and they’re listing off names and a few details about the case. When the “suspect” pile stays empty, Ethan seems to grow a little irritated.
“I think we need to consider that some of these people could be capable of doing this,” he says, motioning to the growing discard pile.
I nod, knowing he’s right and that I need to get rid of this idea that the people I’ve worked with won’t come after me.
“Lana, you’re new to Cerberus?” I ask when we take a break. I’d heard her talking earlier about getting settled into her new place.
“My husband, Harley, just joined a few weeks ago,” she says.
“We got six new members,” Ethan explains. “Harley arrived the same day Slick did.”
Ethan’s explanation narrows the timeline for me. Slick got to Farmington right around the same time I was drugged. What seems like a lifetime ago has only actually been a few weeks.
“And you’re enjoying it?” I ask Lana.
“Loving it,” she says with a quick, happy grin. “I never thought growing up in foster care that I’d find a family, and now I have two—Harley’s parents and now the club. I’ve been welcomed with open arms. They love our little girl Aria. It’s been the best.”
I look to Ethan to try and determine if she’s bringing up her own history in the foster care system because he told her something about me, but he shakes his head, letting me know he didn’t say a word. Maybe her upbringing wasn’t as laced with as much turmoil as mine was.
I feel an instant kinship to the woman. There’s just something about sharing similar histories that makes you form quick bonds with people who have experienced the same thing.
“Back to work,” Ethan urges.
Although I’m exhausted, I nod in agreement, sitting back behind my desk and picking up the file at the top of the page.
Slowly, the maybe pile begins to grow, but I base their selection on what I know about criminal history and the ones who had opposing family members with a history of violence, rather than pulling folders of people who gave me the creeps. Surprisingly, there aren’t many people I’ve encountered over the years that have been able to make me feel that way.