Page 106 of Mile High Ruin

That surprises him. “She told you?”

“Yes.”

“Voluntarily?”

I stare at him. “What exactly do you think happened in that car?”

Anton clears his throat. “She did tell him.”

I slowly turn toward him. Anton remains focused on the laptop. I say nothing, and after a few seconds, he realizes the silence has become dangerous and looks up.

Our eyes meet.

He knows immediately.

Sloane was right in the car. The partition was open. Anton was in the front passenger seat while she told me about her brother, which means he was also sitting there for everything that happened before the conversation about her family.

His expression doesn’t change much, but his eyebrows lift slightly in a restrained, almost apologetic gesture.

I scowl at him. “You heard us.”

Anton’s eyebrows rise a fraction higher. It’s apparently his version of an apology.

Marek looks between us. “He heard what?”

“Nothing.”

Anton answers at exactly the same time. “Nothing.”

Marek’s face brightens. “Oh.”

“There is no ‘oh,’” I say.

“There is absolutely an ‘oh.’”

“Continue with the report.”

Marek is still smiling as he taps the folder. “Her brother’s name is Ethan Mercer. Twenty-nine. He has lymphoma.”

The humor leaves the room.

I look down at the page. The medical information is limited, which is how it should be, but there is enough. Multiple rounds of treatment. Periods when he was unable to work. Insurance disputes. Outstanding bills connected to several facilities. Their mother has taken out loans. Sloane has sent money home regularly for years.

“How much debt?”

“Hard to know exactly,” Marek says. “Enough that money matters.”

Anton looks toward me. “That supports motive if someone wanted to recruit her.”

“It also explains why she took a last-minute job twenty-four hours after being fired,” Marek says. He folds his arms. “We should have made more enquiries the moment you started showing interest in her.”

“There was nothing suspicious about her,” I say.

Did I make a mistake? Was I so blind that I didn’t read through her devious intentions? Was all of it fake?

“Until now. You can’t ignore the truth in front of you,” Marek says, pointing at the documents.

I keep reading. There are old addresses, employment records, school history.