Page 25 of Only the Hunter

“Dinner plans? Something exciting?”

“Please,” I say with a roll of my eyes, pushing through the lobby turnstile to exit our building. A security officer stands to the side, but he doesn’t make eye contact.

“I have plans.”

“Great.” I step outside, glancing up and down the street. With no cab in sight, I thumb the rideshare app.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s the concern in Shonda’s tone that has me replaying our conversation. She has a date. I didn’t bite.

“Sorry. I just need to get home. Who’s your date with?”

“I didn’t say date.” Her hand falls to my wrist, forcing me to look up from the driver options listed on the app. “What’s wrong?”

I scan the area behind us. Streetlights bathe the sidewalk in a late evening glow and a mix of headlights and brake lights blanket the street. It’s not quiet outside, but the evening sounds are softer.

There’s nothing unnerving, yet I’m rattled—on edge.

Shonda isn’t on the Safe Passage case, but she understands procedure. I guide her to the side, near a park bench, out of the way of pedestrians.

“What is it?”

I pause, reading Shonda’s questioning expression, her dark brown eyes framed with impeccable eyeliner. She’s concerned. And trustworthy.

“Evidence is missing. Witness records. Removed from the system.”

“That’s not possible.” She shakes her head. Adamant and certain—because she believes in the system.

“I’m telling you. I’ve been working⁠—”

“The case is closed.”

“I’ve been working on closing it out,” I say with an edge. If I’m sharing this, she needs to listen.

“What work?”

“Going through my files. Ensuring they’re in order for easy review when the case is reopened.”

Her lips purse and she crosses an arm over her middle.

“What? It’s going to be reopened. Maybe in the next administration, but eventually. Files I possess are no longer on the drive.”

“Maybe they got misfiled. Happens all the time.”

“Does it? Really?” Is that what she’s going with?

“Evie, you’ve been instructed to drop it. And I know this because everyone knows this. Everyone heard Rebecca tell you. And, for that matter, everyone heard your unprofessional response. Everyone is talking about this. Michael Harridan is pissed. What the hell are you doing?”

“Shonda, are you listening to me at all?”

She stops walking. “I heard you. Files are missing. Your brakes failed.” She says it back flatly, like she’s reading from a report. “And you think it’s connected.”

“Don’t you think that’s worth⁠—”

“I think you’ve had a brutal few months and you’re not ready to let go of this case.” She exhales. “And I think that’s completely understandable. But Evie—you’re going to get a reputation. And not the kind you want.”

A car speeds by on the street, hitting a pothole. We both turn at the noise.