Page 28 of Remington’s Mate

And just like that, she got the disturbing feeling that there was way, way more to Remy McCall than showed on the surface.

That feeling grew as they talked about the mission. Once he got serious, Remy was knowledgeable and professional.

She learned that Ethan Sutcliffe had been working for Stuyvesant Investments for five years in his current position, and that there were over a dozen major projects he’d been directly responsible for. “So any of these could be structurally flawed?” The very thought made her sick to her stomach.

They were office buildings, malls, pedestrian walkways, apartment buildings—the number of people who could be hurt or killed if one of them failed was horrible.

“Or all of them,” Remy said. “That’s why today’s meeting was only the first step. If it were just this one project, it would be easy to get enough on him to open an investigation. But we need more. We need records from everything he’s worked on.”

“Do you think he’s kept that kind of evidence around? Why wouldn’t he destroy it?”

Remy sighed. “There’s always the chance of that, but we’re thinking it’s unlikely. Suppliers would have their own records of what materials were sent, as opposed to Stuyvesant’s records of what was received. Even the falsified records would help, but we’re banking on Sutcliffe keeping his own records to hold over the heads of any project managers or contractors who were in on it, so they’d keep their mouths shut. If we’re lucky, he’ll even have records of who they were and how much they got paid.”

Jaeda nodded. “So the paper trail we follow on this project is important,” she said. “What Sutcliffe wants me to do with your contract and the other files, who takes care of your—Colt’s—payments and where the records are kept—that kind of stuff.”

“Exactly,” Remy said. “Also, if we could bug his office…”

“That wouldn’t be hard.” She could probably do it herself.

“Except that if he has his own security team, they probably do periodic sweeps. I’ll have to do some serious thinking to figure out a way around that.”

He must have read the surprise on her face, because he said, “That’s what I do. Colt’s the engineer. I’m the tech guy. Hacking, surveillance—all the sneaky stuff.”

Well. You could have knocked her over with an owl feather. “I didn’t know you could do all that.”

The cocky grin returned to his face. “So much you don’t know about me, sweetheart.”

“So much I don’t want to know,” she said, checking the things they’d talked about off her list. Actually, that wasn’t true. She found herself wanting to know a lot more about him. Which was the real Remy—the goofy, flirt-with-anyone smartass? The hacker? The smart investigator—who cared about people getting hurt?

How did he really feel about his brother having a mate when he didn’t? Was his skin as thick as it seemed, or was he hiding doubts and fears and pain under the surface, like her?

What did you do when the person who’d always been there for you created a bond with someone else?

“One more thing for your list,” he said, as she wrote a final note. “Can you find out if there’s any information about the woman who had the job before you? Email or mailing address, emergency contact, bank account? I want to track her down.”

“Good idea. She might know something.” Jaeda made a note.

“If she’s still alive,” Remy said quietly.

Her hand stilled. She hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think she had an ‘accident’ too? Like Martin?”

Remy said, “Smith implied she might have. I’d feel better if I could find her and make sure she’s okay.”

Jaeda nodded. People mattered to him. She liked that. “I’ll see what I can find.”

Chapter 12

Since they’d gone through every point on her list, Jaeda figured it was time to leave. She was starting to like Remy McCall a little too much, which was probably one of the top three signs of insanity for a shifter woman.

Or a human one.

As she gathered her stuff, Remy said, “Hold up. Let me see if Smith and Jones are still in the lobby. I don’t like the idea of them following you home.” He reached for his laptop and hit a couple of buttons.

The screen split into at least a dozen rectangles, each showing a video feed of a different part of the hotel.

“Holy shit, did you hack into the security system?”

“Of course.” He was studying the different screens. “Oh, look, they brought a friend.” He turned the laptop and pointed out the two lobby cams that showed Smith and Jones, and then another that showed a third man in an identical suit. “You know that guy?”