Without waiting for a reply, she heads for the door and the detectives reconvene.
Over the next forty minutes, Wynter’s mom hands the cops their asses. Rachel, you see, came armed with the results of a coordinated assault by Maxim and the O’Donnellys—I can identify Uncle Conor’s sticky fingers like he smudged the evidence in jam.
The perks of having a hacker on your side?
Multiple time-stamped images of me at the gala on Friday night. Medancing with Maxim. Maxim and I laughing at some of the auction lots. Maxim and I eating. Drinking.
Maxim.
Maxim.
Maxim.
Leaving this to Rachel, I scrutinize the possessive hold he has on me, the way his body angles mine so that I’m always being sheltered by him.A hand on my hip or cupping my elbow. His arm banded around my stomach, drawing me closer.
Always closer.
Inches between us are too much for Maxim.
The way he looks at me—he could devour me whole.
The want in his expression sinks bone-deep. His devotion to me so utterly transparent, it bleeds into his every move.
The pictures and Rachel’s skills almost make this shitshow I’ve endured worth it.
In the face of her competence and Maxim’s feelings for me, the cops stutter and stammer like the mindless enforcers they are.
Bordeau’s expression turns to stone when Rachel tells him all the ways under the sun she’s about to have him strung up, and how Wallowicz, as a co-conspirator to an American citizen being tortured by a police department, will swing at his side.
I’d enjoy the matinee if I weren’t so exhausted.
When Wallowicz guides me outside, stiff and formal, Rachel stays with me long enough to take me to the front entrance before remaining behind to file complaints.
Niven’s hovering there, waiting for me.
I shoot him a kind smile. “I appreciate your help so much, officer.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze drifts over my head and back to the station. “Rachel Laker’s your attorney?”
“Yes.” Perplexed, I ask, “Didn’t you wait for her in the foyer?”
He dismisses that. “Her reputation’s well known. She’s an attorney for criminals.”
“And? That’s what lawyers are for.”
“She helps bad people get off.”
Perplexed by his take on the situation, I blink bleary eyes and hold up a hand to stall him from doling out any more words of so-called wisdom that’ll just piss me off. “Today, she helped a good person. I’m tired, Officer Niven. I want to go home.”
His mouth tightens, his censure clear. It’s strange how he looks at me. As if by acquiring Rachel’s services, I’ve let him down.
Me, letting a total stranger down.
WTAF?
Pushing the notion aside, I give him a wave that he ignores in favor of dipping his chin at me and I descend the few steps to the sidewalk.
There, I see an SUV waiting about five hundred yards away from the station. Engine running. Lights on.
