Page 111 of Monk

I felt bile rise in my throat.

I opened another file. A bank transfer confirmation, dated one week before John’s arrest.

From: James Roberts

To: Ruby Cooper

Amount: $10,000.00

Then another. A text message between Roberts and Marcus Lyle.

Roberts: I need you to do a job for me.

Lyle: What kind of job?

Roberts: The kind that pays five thousand dollars and requires discretion.

Lyle: I’m listening.

Roberts: There’s a woman. I need you to assault her. Make it look real. Bruises. Trauma. Enough to hold up in court.

Lyle: When?

Roberts: Tonight.

I closed my eyes, my hands clenching into fists.

He did this. Roberts orchestrated everything. He paid Ruby to lie. He hired a rapist to assault her. He framed John for a crime he didn’t commit.All to force John back into WITSEC. All to keep using him as a pawn in his war against the Biker Federation.

I opened my eyes and stared at the screen. All the evidence laid out before me like a roadmap. I had everything I needed. Everything to clear John’s name. Everything to expose Roberts. Everything to destroy him.

I picked up my phone and started typing a message to Chief O’Rourke. Then I stopped.

I needed to be smart about this. Strategic. If I went to O’Rourke now, Roberts would know. He would cover his tracks. Destroy evidence. Disappear.

I needed to move carefully. Methodically. I needed to build an airtight case that Roberts couldn’t wriggle out of.

I closed my laptop and sat back in my chair, staring out the kitchen window at the fields beyond as the sun painted the sky in shades of pink and gold, and I thought about John, still asleep upstairs.

About Tatum, at school, safe and happy. About my father, at physical therapy, fighting to get stronger. About the life we were trying to build together.

And I made a promise to myself.I’m going to protect them. All of them. No matter what it takes.

I stood, poured myself another cup of coffee, and opened my laptop again.

I had work to do, and I wasn’t stopping until James Roberts paid for what he had done.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Monk

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the cold.

Not the kind of cold that came from winter air or an open window. The kind that came from absence. My hand reached across the bed instinctively, searching for warmth, for the soft curve of her body, and found nothing.

My eyes snapped open. The bed beside me was empty. The sheets were rumpled, still holding the faint impression of where she’d been lying, but the space was cool to the touch.

Fuck.My heart kicked hard against my ribs.