“You can stop blocking me,” he said.
“I can do a lot of things.”
“You’re going to run out of room.”
“Then you should back up.”
“I’m between you and the door for a reason.”
“Yes. You’re bossy.”
“No.” Dex glanced at the cuffs, then back at me. “I’m angry.”
My hands tightened around the chair back. The wood dug into my palms.
Crystal froze behind me.
I lifted my chin. “You seemed angry outside too.”
“I was furious outside. Right now, I’m angry and listening. Don’t waste that.”
“You want me grateful?”
“I want you honest.”
My palms pressed harder into the chair back.
I’d given him my body before my name. I’d given him heat, lies, and a stolen truck key from the pocket of jeans he’d left on the floor because he’d trusted sleep for one stupid hour.
Crystal leaned forward. “His name is Frank Dugan.”
My head turned. “Crystal.”
“No.” Her voice shook, but she kept her eyes on Dex. “He asked who made you desperate. Frank did.”
Dex’s attention moved to her. He didn’t step around me. He didn’t reach for the cuffs. He treated my sister like she was a woman sitting in a chair instead of a warrant with a pulse.
“Who’s Frank Dugan?” he asked.
“My boss,” Crystal said. “Owner of West Bench Property Services.”
Dex’s focus flicked back to me. “Your sister’s employer.”
“Look at you, reading context clues.”
Dex said my name in a voice that cut through the snark before I could sharpen it.
Crystal rubbed her palms over her bare knees. The garden tattoo around her lower left leg shifted with the movement, the same flowers I carried on mine. “West Bench manages rentals and vacant properties. Cabins, duplexes, a few small commercial spaces. I handled bookkeeping. Vendor payments, owner payouts, deposits, repairs, cleaning bills, lock changes, hauling.”
“Those records don’t usually get people framed for theft,” Dex said.
“They do when they don’t add up.”
The cabin creaked around us. Outside, wind moved through the pines, soft and dry. Somewhere under the sink, an old pipe ticked.
Crystal swallowed. “I found invoices from Pendleton Cleanout and Hauling that didn’t match the work orders. Some were doubled. Some were emergency cleanouts at properties that hadn’t turned over. Lock changes were paired with tenant deposits that were still sitting in the wrong account. Owner payouts were short by the exact amount of repairs nobody could prove happened.”
Dex’s face stayed hard, but his focus sharpened.
