My throat tightens as I stare at the list for a moment, taking in the other names above and below mine as I realize it’s other journalists from various outlets.Some are crossed through with a single line, some with two, one with a question mark beside it.
This was Erik’s list of reporters he vetted, deciding who to trust with information that cost him everything.
And he chose me.
I turn more pages slowly.Dates.Names I don’t recognize yet.Dollar amounts.Abbreviations that mean nothing to me right now but might mean everything to Josie.The notebook is dense with information, weeks or months of careful documentation recorded by a man who knew he was building a case and might not survive to see it to its end.
I close the notebook and look up at Marissa, who watches me from the doorway of the shed with her arms still crossed and her face carefully composed.
“Can I take this?”I ask.
She looks at it for a long moment before nodding.“If it helps you finish what he started,” she says quietly, “then yes.”
“Thank you, Marissa.I’ll keep you updated.”
I don’t run back to the car but it’s a very urgent trot.Cole sees me coming before I reach the curb and through the windshield, I see his posture shift—the small forward lean, the way his eyes drop to the notebook in my hand and then come back up to my face, reading the expression there.
I get in and pull the door shut.
“What is that?”he asks.
I set the notebook on the console between us.“Erik hid it in her storage shed about a month before he died.He told her he was decluttering.I only scanned it briefly, but it looks like his original notes when he was building a case file.Dates, names, dollar amounts.There’s enough in here to keep Josie busy.”
Cole picks it up carefully, opens the cover, scans the first page without touching anything he doesn’t need to.
“Your name’s in there,” he says.
“Circled,” I confirm.“He vetted a dozen reporters before he chose me.”
Cole’s expression shifts to one of anger.I know what he’s wondering why that bastard had to choose me.It has led me to danger and Cole can’t abide that.
I don’t point out to him that we wouldn’t have reconnected if it hadn’t been for this.
“He trusted you with his life,” Cole says quietly.
“Yes,” I say.“And I intend to make sure that it wasn’t in vain.”
Cole holds my gaze for one long beat, and in it I see a look I haven’t seen from him before—not worry, not fear, not the old frustration that used to live behind his eyes when my job came up.
Something closer to faith.
He starts the engine.“We’ve got another lead I’m going to chase down.”
“What’s that?”I ask as we pull away from the curb.
“Kynan dug up an old connection we have to SAPG.An agent who worked for a time at the Jameson Vegas office now apparently works there.I’m going to meet him tonight for a beer.”
“Oh, wow.”I look out the window as my mind reels.I turn back to him.“I’ll go too.”
“Yeah… not going to happen,” he says with a droll side-eye.
“But—”
“No buts.You’re not going.”
I suck in air through my nostrils and blow it out slowly.“May I ask why?This is my story after all.”
Cole gives me a long look before turning back to watch the road.“Tessa… there’s a very good chance this SAPG was involved in the arson and an equally good chance they killed Erik and broke into your home.I’m not putting you near them.So just let it go, okay?”
