Page 39 of Riptide
"Seventy-five thousand.Everything I had. Savings, 401k, money for my kids' college." His voice was dead. "I cashed it all out. Paid every penalty. And you know what? She still came back. Wanted another fifty."
"What did you do?"
"I toldher I didn't have it. She made good on her threats." He gestured around. "This is what I have now. A twenty-year-old Civic with bald tires and an oil leak I can't afford to fix. A studio apartment. I can't even afford premium cable."
"What did she have on you?"Cara asked quietly.
His jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter."
"It might—"
"Whatever I did—it'sover. At least I’m not in jail. But my old firm won't touch me. None of them will. I'm blacklisted. I'll be managing fast food until I die."
"There might bea way to stop her," Wade said. "If multiple victims came forward?—"
"You don't get it.You don't know what she's capable of. She's connected. Has resources. Friends in places that matter. If you go after her, she'll destroy you."
"We should go,"Wade said quietly.
"Yeah."Latimer moved to the door. "Look, I get what you're trying to do. But trust me—fighting her doesn't work. The best thing you can do is pay what she asks and try to rebuild."
"That's it?"Cara heard the desperation in her voice. "Just give up?"
"That's not giving up.That's surviving." He opened the door. "Now get out. I can't afford to lose this job too."
They leftthrough the side door into gray Portland afternoon. Rain had started falling.
"Dead end,"Wade said.
"Complete dead end."She watched Latimer through the window. "He's too broken. Even if we had evidence—he won't testify."
"Can't blame him."
"No. I can't."
"The sister,"Wade said finally. "Forsythe. She's different."
"Yeah.Her brother's dead. That's not just fear. That's rage." She met Wade's eyes. "Rage we might be able to use."
Jessica Forsythe workedat a marketing firm downtown—third floor of a converted warehouse building, exposed brick and industrial windows.
They foundparking two blocks away and walked through the rain.
"I'll go in alone,"Cara said. "You're too …you."
Wade raised an eyebrow. "Too me?"
"You know what I mean. Too 'I've seen things and buried bodies.'" She gestured at him. "You walk into a marketing agency, everyone's going to assume you're either a cop or someone's very angry husband."
"Fair point." He pulled up his hood. "I'll wait out here looking like a very angry husband in the rain."
The lobby wasall exposed concrete and artfully distressed furniture. A receptionist sat behind a reclaimed wood desk.
"Hi,"Cara said. "I'm looking for Jessica Forsythe? I'm an old friend."
The receptionist looked up,smiling. "Oh, I'm sorry. Jessica's not in today."
"Doyou know when she'll be back?"
