Page 67 of Riptide
Finally, something shifted in Blaire's expression. Not trust, exactly. But doubt.
"If it wasn't you, then who?"
"I don't know." Cara spread her hands. "You said you've done this to other people. Maybe one of them got brave. Maybe someone you investigated years ago finally decided to fight back."
Blaire's laugh was bitter. "They don't fight back. They're too scared. Too broken."
"Maybe one of them isn't."
Blaire went still. Something flickered across her face—a memory, maybe. A name she hadn't thought about in a while.
Then she shook her head. "It doesn't matter who did it. What matters is what I do now."
"What are you going to do?"
"My lawyer says to preserve everything. Don't delete anything. Don't talk to anyone about my cases." Blaire's voice turned mocking. "Like I'm stupid enough to put anything incriminating in writing."
Cara stayed quiet, letting Blaire talk.
"But this changes things." Blaire turned to face her. "I can't afford any more complications. The FBI is watching. My lawyer's watching. Everyone's watching."
"What does that mean for me?" Cara asked carefully. "For the money?"
Blaire was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was different. Calculating.
"Maybe we need to rethink our arrangement."
"Rethink it how?"
"I don't need your money. What I need is..." She paused, choosing her words. "What I need is someone who can vouch for me. If the FBI comes asking questions. If anyone comes asking questions."
Cara's mouth dropped open, an expression she didn't have to fake. "You want me to lie for you?"
"Lies won't work here. I want you to tell a version of the truth." Blaire's smile was thin. "You inherited a bakery. The paperwork was complicated. I'm a private investigator who helped you sort through some family history questions. Everything was legitimate. Everything was above board."
"That's not what happened."
"It could be what happened. If we both agree that's what happened." Blaire moved closer, her voice dropping. "Think about it, Cara. I stop asking for money. You help me establish that I'm a legitimate businesswoman if anyone asks. We both walk away clean."
In the dim lantern light, Blaire's eyes glittered. This wasn't friendship she was offering. It was another kind of trap.
"I need to think about it," Cara said.
"Take a day or two." Blaire's expression hardened. "But don't take too long. And don't make me regret trusting you with this conversation. If anyone finds out what I've told you tonight..."
"I won't tell anyone."
"Good." Blaire checked her phone. "I need to get back. My lawyer's calling at nine."
She moved toward the door, and Cara felt a wave of relief wash through her. It was almost over. She'd played the part, kept Blaire calm, bought the team more time.
"Cara."
She turned. Blaire stood at the door, hand on the frame.
"I meant what I said. About rethinking things." Something almost human flickered in Blaire's expression. "I'm not a monster. I'm just... I'm just trying to survive. Same as you."
The words hit harder than they should have. Because in some twisted way, Blaire believed them. Believed she was justified. Believed that what she did to people was just business.
