Page 67 of Spock’s Snare

My thoughts race through every conversation I’ve had with Scaro. Every complaint. Every demand. Every time he insisted I justify a delay or explain an expense that wasn’t my fault.

“Maybe he chose me because my bid was better,” I say, although the explanation sounds weak even to me.

“Maybe,” Juliet says gently. “But with everything happening at Riversedge, it would be a mistake to assume that.”

Spock’s hand settles on my shoulder, his thumb moving once against my skin. “We won’t assume anything.”

A knot forms beneath my ribs. I don’t like the idea of the Demon Dawgs confronting one of my clients. I especially don’t like the way Puma’s face has gone blank, all traces of humor vanishing from his eyes. Men like him don’t have polite business conversations. At least, not when they believe someone has threatened a person under the club’s protection.

Yet I can’t ask them to leave Scaro alone.

Not when he might know why someone is sabotaging my site. Not when his connection to Red Rock could explain why Blackwood tore open that wall—or why my father was attacked.

Puma wipes his mouth with his napkin, then turns toward Wildcard.

“You and I might want to have a discussion with Scaro.”

Worry coils tighter inside me as Wildcard gives a slow nod.

Part of me wants to tell them not to do anything reckless, but mostly I need to know exactly what Paul Scaro is up to.

Spock’s hand remains on my shoulder as he turns his attention back to Juliet.

“What did you find on Blackwood?”

The question is delivered in a low, controlled voice, but I feel the tension in his fingers. Whatever doubts he had about my foreman before this conversation have hardened into suspicion.

Juliet glances at me. “Blackwood told you he was an independent contractor before you hired him, right?”

“Yes.” I nod slowly. “He said he’d been working for himself for several years but wanted something more stable. Riversedge is a large project, and I needed someone experienced enough to manage the site when I couldn’t be there.”

It made sense at the time. Blackwood had known what to say during the interview. He’d talked about the difficulties of running his own business and how tired he was of constantly searching for the next contract. He’d claimed he missed being part of a team.

Juliet’s expression tightens. “That’s only partially true. He was an independent contractor, but not for several years. He worked for himself for a few months before you hired him.”

My spine straightens. “How many months?”

“Three that I can confirm. Possibly four, depending on when he actually stopped working for his previous employer.”

Spock’s thumb stills against my shoulder.

“Who was his previous employer?” he asks.

Juliet holds his stare. “Elvis Monroe at Sin City Construction.”

The name has impact.

I glance from Juliet to Spock. His jaw locks, and the dangerous stillness that comes over him makes my heart beat faster. Across from us, Puma and Wildcard exchange a look that doesn’t bode well for my competitor, Elvis Monroe.

“Blackwood worked for Monroe for almost eight years. He started as a general laborer and worked his way up to site supervisor. From everything I found, Monroe trusted him with some significant projects.”

I push my plate away, my appetite completely gone. “He never mentioned working for Elvis.”

Blackwood listed several projects during his interview, but he talked about them as if he’d managed them independently. I assumed they were contracts he’d secured through his own company. He’d been careful with his wording. Careful enough to give me the impression he wanted without making every statement an outright lie.

“He basically created a false work history,” I say.

“Not entirely false,” Juliet replies. “The projects were real, and he did supervise many of them. He simply left out the fact that he completed them while working for Monroe.”