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I motion her forward and she hurries toward me, looking pretty in a pink suit dress, her skin glowing.

“When can we talk about Josh?” she asks, perching on the arm of one of my visitor chairs.

“If you love him, after this case,” I say. “If he broke your heart, I’ll go beat him up while I’m in war mode.”

“I’m worried about you,” Grace says. “I know it’s not likely, but what if Waters comes after you?”

“I’m worried about my witnesses. Law enforcement thinks the killer is one of Waters’ top men, but they don’t know. They’re operating on speculation.”

“I’m worried about you,” she repeats.

“I’m fine. You know they’d just replace me if I died. Waters won’t come after me and he’s isolated right now. He can’t communicate with anyone.”

“Maybe his attorney is dirty. And if you die, the case will be delayed and who knows what would happen. It would get crazier than it already is now. What about Ed?” she asks, softening her voice. “Is he worried?”

“He’s worried about everything to do with this case. He’s a beast right now.”

“I mean about himself. I mean, yes, you can be replaced, but if he was suddenly out of the picture, the case would stall. I wonder if a new DA would even have the courage to go forward with it at all.”

“Let’s not put that into the universe,” I say, and yet, she’s right, I think. Lord help me, the collective hell, might just motivate Ed to make a deal.

“It’s not about the universe,” she snips. “You need to take the threats seriously. Waters has proven to be the devil he calls himself. I don’t know how you ended up on this case. Okay, I do,” she quickly amends. “You learned how these monsters think when you were with your father. Listen to your gut and listen.”

I learned with my father.

And there it is. My reputation for defending monsters. It’s a part of me, but damn it, maybe winning this case will make people forget. Maybe it will make me forget.

Agent Pitt appears in my doorway. “Got a minute?” he asks.

Grace glances over her shoulder at him and then back at me. “I can wait.” She pushes to her feet. “Can you do lunch?”

“Not until this is over for every reason you just gave me to set that timeline.”

“Drinks it is,” she says. “I’ll call you later.”

She backs out of the doorway and Agent Pitt walks into my office. No. He doesn’t just walk in, he shuts the door with him inside, a puff of cranky energy hitched on his back for the ride. “I heard Waters is trying to make a deal.”

My brows knit together. “Heard from who?”

“Why haven’t you told me?”

“Heard from who?” I repeat, my voice a hard push this time.

He waves that off. “His attorney is buzzing it around to anyone who’ll listen.”

“Of course,” I say dryly, really not that surprised by this realization as I add, “He wants the DA to be pressured to take the deal.”

“What did he offer?”

“A guy named Jason Whitaker. He’s an attorney long suspected of helping some very powerful people launder money or just plain hide it.”

“I know him. What’s your play?”

I have no idea why I hold back my intentions to stay my course, but I do without hesitation. “I’ll let you know when I know.”

“What does that mean?” he grumbles.

“It means,” I gather up the Walker references on my desk and stand, “that I need to see the DA before I make any decisions. I am, after all, an Assistant District Attorney, not the District Attorney.” I round my desk and he doesn’t move. Pitt’s a big man, broad and fit, his hair and eyes as dark as his mood, and yes, now I notice that he is rather good looking. And yet, even standing close to him, there is no buzz to my skin or heat in my belly. We don’t vibe romantically at all. Right now, he’s just a wall blocking my path.

“What is it you want from me, Agent Pitt?” I snap.

“A lot of people worked really hard to take down Waters,” he bites out.

Rafael’s words come back to me: too many people gave up their lives to get him where he is now for you to set him free. Which in hindsight was a big statement. My decision is made. No deal, not if I can stop it from happening. I won’t set Waters free.

“Pri,” Pitt snaps, the use of my first name, not under objection, as it’s my preference, but his impatient tone is another story.

I blink him back into view. “I know many people worked and sacrificed to arrest Waters, Agent Pitt. I get it. You know I do.”

“You sure about that?” he presses. “Bodies are dropping. Maybe you don’t have the stomach for it.”

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