Page 2 of Bastard In A Suit, Vol. 3

Undeterred, I jab at the screen. “If you’d shut the MicroTracker down and taken it off line like you said you were going to, Jake wouldn’t have been able to use the device to track Marissa’s movements. She could still be alive right now.”

I expect Duke to fire back at me—my tone is accusatory and harsh, and what I’m saying isn’t the whole story. The MicroTracker may have provided opportunity, but it wasn’t the means—Marissa’s killer would have eventually found her, with or without the device.

Duke’s eyes cloud with a somber seriousness that I haven’t seen before. He rubs his hand over his chin. “We have to call the police, Hailey. This is evidence of a crime.”

I bite my lower lip, and nod. Giving the authorities this information will further mark Jake as a prime suspect, but ignoring it would be much worse. My stomach twists into knots. I fish out my cell and start to dial 9-1-1. Duke grabs the phone.

“Kingston Industries owns the software,” he says. “I should make the call. I’ll just grab my phone.”

I stare at the computer monitor waiting for him to return, willing the damning information to disappear. My body feels numb, hollow. Stretched thin. I go back in time to when I first met Jake—a college freshman with big dreams and a giant crush on a pretty girl he met in the cafeteria, and a plan to make her like him. Did he force Marissa into loving him? No. It doesn’t make sense.

Jake is the kind of guy that grins a lot, jokes too much, can be a little bitter and off-putting at times, and sometimes…gets a little mad.

But shit. Who doesn’t?

I kick the base of the sofa in frustration and tuck my hands behind my head, stare up at the ceiling. Could I have missed this? Somehow not seen a side of Jake that could lead him to murder? Am I that naïve? I begin to pace back and forth in front of the window. Far in the distance, the Ferris Wheel at Navy Pier turns as though to say, Life goes on. But not for Marissa.

A strangled cry trickles from my throat, the sound so foreign, I barely recognize it as my own. What else have I been blind to?

Duke emerges from the bedroom with his cell pressed to his ear. “Yes, officer.” A pause. “Certainly. Meet me at my office in thirty minutes and I will deliver all of the files for the device.” Another pause as Duke’s eyes flicker to me. “Yes, sir, the software belongs to Kingston Industries.”

My stomach clenches.

If it turns out the MicroTracker played a vital role in Marissa’s murder, Jake’s actions will not only turn the attention on himself, but likely everyone involved in the product—Forrest, Duke…me.

As though reading my mind, Duke drapes his arm around my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. I lap it up, grateful whatever anger Duke harbors for me hacking into his computer is shelved—for now. He disconnects the call, sets his phone on the table, and gathers me into his arms.

I melt in his warm, soothing embrace.

“Of course you’re not a spy,” Duke whispers.

My eyes fill with tears. “I guess we both could have handled that better.”

His face buries deeper into my shoulder and he sighs. Not quite an admittance of guilt, but I’ll take it. Because while Duke’s reaction was explosive, it was also justified—breaking into his computer was a profound display of distrust, regardless of the information it revealed.

He kisses my forehead. “I need to get going,” he says. “The police are coming to the office to pick up the software, and I’m afraid I have some important meetings this morning that can’t be put off.” He traces my jaw line with his thumb, and cups my chin between his fingers. “What would you like to do?”

Energy buzzes through me. I know I told Duke I’d never set foot in his office again, but the thought of being away from him needles at my heart. I crave closeness, even if it means simply being in the same building.

“I could maybe put in a few hours at the office,” I say, shyly.

He raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll call Forrest and have him meet me there instead of the police station,” I say. “I don’t think I can handle seeing Jake…not right now. And Forrest deserves to know what we found.”

“Good point.” He kisses the tip of my nose and my belly flutters. “No sense in taking two vehicles then.” He peers over my shoulder at the Chicago horizon and winks. “It’s a beautiful day. How about we take the Lamborghini?”