Page 91 of Blake

He was almost certain it was him.

“Can you sharpen it?” Draven asked next.

“I can try.” A few taps of the keys later, the image adjusted.

Same jaw. Same nose. Same cold expression Blake remembered.

“There should be a second file in the email.” Jethro’s deep timbre came through the phone’s speaker again. “My contact found a different camera angle from the same footage. That one has a clear shot of Crawford’s face.”

Blake opened the second file, and sure enough⁠—

“That’s him.” Blake was certain of it.

Emmett nodded. “Agreed.”

“When was this recorded?” Draven asked the man on the phone.

“Check the timestamp,” Jethro instructed. “Bottom right corner.”

Blake’s gaze dropped to the tiny writing at the bottom of the recording. His pulse spiked when he saw the date.

“You seeing this?” he asked his teammates.

“Yeah.” Emmett nodded.

“It’s a verified live broadcast,” Jethro added. “My contact checked the original station feed. Factoring in the time difference, Billy Crawford was walking through that festival less than an hour before the break-in at your girl’s place in St. Louis.”

Draven leaned back. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Blake stared at the frozen image. Billy had been thousands of miles away, which meant he couldn’t have been the same man who broke into Devon’s apartment.

Emmett blew out a breath. “That certainly changes things.”

“Hopefully it helps,” Jethro drawled. “Doesn’t tell us who’s after Devon, but at least it eliminates Crawford as a possibility.”

Blake dragged a hand over his face. For months, Devon had lived in fear of Billy’s return. Now they finally had proof he wasn’t the intruder.

“Thanks, Jethro,” Blake offered. “Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

A few seconds of silence passed before the other man spoke again.

“Just because Crawford was in Brazil a few days ago doesn’t mean he’ll stay there.”

Blake’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“And it doesn’t tell us anything about the people behind the fraud,” Draven pointed out.

“No,” Emmett agreed. “But it does lead us in the right direction.” His dark gaze landed on Blake and Draven. “Now we can move forward feeling confident that what’s going on with Devon now is separate from what happened a few months back.”

Meaning their investigation—their focus—was no longer split.

Blake looked at the screen one last time. He wasn’t giving up on catching Crawford, but he’d deal with him later.

Right now, Devon needed him focused on the people actively trying to kill her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Later that day . . .