Page 179 of Hard Pass

The words hit like a slap.

But it makes sense. If you can’t track data, then you can’t find a conclusion.

But that doesn’t help me. And it sure as shit doesn’t help clear Cole’s name.

“Inconclusive?” I repeat, sharper than I mean to.

“I know. I’ve tried to convince them to keep digging, but I don’t have a leg to stand on if I don’t have data to back it up.”

“Goddamn it,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair. “No. Sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I just . . . I need to clear him for his sake. Need to prove that my work wasn’t biased. That I didn’t—”

“I know. You don’t need to explain. You’re doing everything you can.”

It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m failing.

“You know I appreciate you,” I say. “You’ve gone above and beyond for me.”

“I know.”

“Thank you, Manny. Keep me posted if anything changes,” I say.

“You got it.”

I hang up and stare at my phone, not saying the one other thing I want to—that I hope I’ll be working with you on other cases soon.

But that’s not his guilt trip to bear.

But fuck. Inconclusive.

No proof. No closure. No clearing his name. Just a question mark that will follow Cole everywhere during his career.

It’s complete bullshit.

I look at my phone and scroll to Marcus’s name. My thumb hovers over the call button. I could call him to argue and make my case . . . but then think of my call to him last week.

“I’m meeting with the NFL representatives next week. Our contract renewal with them is in jeopardy. They’re questioning our integrity and standard practices and want to meet to see what guardrails I’ve put in place to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Marcus’s words echo in my head. Right now isn’t the time to call. If I push, I’ll risk everything when I’m still holding on to hope that I can get my job back. And if I don’t push, Cole loses.

I set my phone on the counter with a frustrated sigh and shake of my head.

The front door opens. Closes.

I straighten instinctively, wiping the frustration from my face before I even realize I’m doing it.

“Hey,” I say when he walks into the kitchen. My attempt at sounding upbeat falls flat.

He doesn’t even pretend to buy it. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing major,” I say.

He levels me with a dubious look. “Dublin.”

“I just hung up with Manny. He said he thinks the investigation is leaning toward an inconclusive finding.”

I watch as Cole absorbs the words. His features tighten and he gives a small nod. “Of course they are. Nothing like having an asterisk in people’s minds next to your stats the rest of your career and beyond because people thought you were cheating somehow.” He walks to the back door, hands on his hips and stares outside. “My name will be tied to it forever when I didn’t do anything.”

“It might not be that bad—”