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Whatever. Zy studied the new guy. Around six foot and built broad with an obvious hard-on for bodybuilding, he had piercing dark eyes, a black mustache, and a watchful mien.

“You met Kane Preston?” Hunter offered.

“Briefly.” While all the shit had been going down with the creepy cult, the deputy had been cleaning up the absent sheriff’s mess.

“Josiah highly recommended him, said he’d done an excellent job the last couple of years in Comfort.”

Kane stuck out his hand. “But I was looking to make a change. Some folks call me Scout. But as long as you don’t call me motherfucker, I’ll probably answer.”

Zy clapped his hand in the other guy’s. “I’m Chase Garrett. Most people around here just call me Zyron.”

“Good to see you.”

“Got everything you need now?” Joaquin asked the former deputy.

“I do,” Kane replied. “I’ll go make myself useful.”

“Perfect,” Logan said to the guy’s wide, retreating back. The minute he’d gone, his boss turned an annoyed gaze his way. “Shut the door. We need to talk.”

Sighing, Zy did, then took his seat in the nearest chair, across the table from Logan. “What’s up?”

“We need to get to the bottom of some shit. Up until now, the only people who knew the location of Valeria Montilla’s new safe house were the three of us and One-Mile. At least until last night.”

Zy froze. Valeria and her sister, Laila, had been through hell. Valeria’s husband, Emilo, was finally dead, but his thugs and that criminal bunch from his splinter offshoot of the cartel had wreaked absolute destruction on those women’s lives.

“What happened?”

“Someone broke into their new digs in Orlando. Valeria was at a concert, thankfully. But Laila stayed behind to babysit her nephew. She and Baby Jorge barely escaped with their lives. We have to relocate them now.”

“You need me to go?” He hated to pack another fucking suitcase, but to save them from being snuffed and slaughtered, he gladly would—no questions asked.

“No. We’re sending Kane and Trees today to bring them back here.”

Hunter jumped in. “A couple months ago, we started working on a plan to relocate Valeria and her family nearby, then shit happened…”

Over the last few months? Yeah, had it ever.

“And you’ve got everything in place now?” Zy asked.

He nodded. “We’ll be watching their new safe house ourselves. But we worry it’s for nothing until you figure out who our fucking mole is. If it’s not Trees, we need you to prove it now.”

He tried to keep a leash on his temper. “I know you all have a boner to blame him, but he isn’t guilty.”

Hunter sent him a cutting glare. “Forgive me if we’re not willing to just take your word about your bestie.”

“I’ve spent two fucking months digging. I’ve seen zero evidence he’s leaked even a drop of urine out of this place, much less critical secrets. Seriously, I took him with me to Comfort so we could isolate him, just like you insisted. We slept in the same bunkhouse. I dug through his phone. Unless he was shitting or showering, I watched him. He’s done nothing, and I don’t know what you want as proof that he’s innocent.”

The trio fell silent and exchanged glances.

Hunter raised a brow. “Here’s what we know. It’s not the three of us. It’s not One-Mile. It’s not you, Cutter, or Josiah. That leaves Trees.”

“Or…” Logan cut in before Zy could push back, “Tessa.”

It was all he could do not to punch the asshole. “No. Fuck no. She’s the goddamn receptionist. She doesn’t have access to those secrets.”

“We didn’t think so either. But now we’re rethinking.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Shut up and listen,” Joaquin growled. “We’ve eliminated every other possibility. It’s either your bestie or your girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” he objected automatically.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. We all know you’re one bad decision away from breaking your contract…unless you already have and there’s something you want to tell us?”

“I haven’t touched her.”

The three of them exchanged another glance, then seemed to come to some silent conclusion he wasn’t privy to.

“Then here’s the deal: You’ve got two weeks to figure out which one of them is guilty or we’re letting them both go.”

“What?”

Hunter picked up where his brother left off. “We made it easier for you by sending Trees out of town for a week. Invent a reason you need to stay at his place while he’s gone. Search it from top to bottom. If he’s got dirt, you need to hand it the fuck over.”

“He doesn’t.” Zy knew he kept repeating that, but Trees wouldn’t stab him—or anyone else—in the back like that.

“Now you get to find out for sure…at the same time you investigate Tessa.”

Were they insane? “How? You sending her out of town, too?”

“Nope.” Logan reached behind him and plucked a file folder off his credenza, then whipped out a small pile of papers held together by a staple. He flipped a few pages, drew a giant X on one, then jotted something in the margin. He passed it to his brothers next. Each of them also scribbled on the side. Finally, Logan shoved the document back in the folder and slid it down the table to him. “You’re welcome.”

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