Page 107 of Unleashed

But Pierce came through and managed to secure an hour window. Which actually isn’t a whole hell of a lot when you consider they had to find the files before they could even begin to start going through them. I don’t know who in the hell is in charge of the county cold cases, but they should be fucking fired.

Thankfully, Ruth is a fucking genius and brought portable scanners for each of them to use. Instead of frantically searching each page while they sat there, they made a copy of each piece, saving everything directly to a hard drive. Now they just have to go through hundreds and hundreds of scanned documents—what they found was a mix of cases lumped together—looking for a needle in a haystack.

If it even exists.

“Do you have the drive with you?” I take a sip of my coffee. “You’ll have plenty of time to go through them today. I’m analyzing reports, so it’s going to be a pretty uneventful day.”

I also have a few other things on my schedule, but nothing that involves Ruth and would distract from her search.

“I might do that.” She moves toward the door, pausing at the opening. “Let me know if you need anything.” She walks out, then immediately comes right back. “Oh, and I’m leaving the building for lunch today. Lindsey wants to take us out as a thank you for inviting her to girls’ night.”

That’s a bummer. I was hoping that since it’s a slow day I might be able to lure Maren into my office for a little lunch time ‘thank you’ of my own. “Not a problem. Have fun.”

Ruth goes back to her desk while I go back to my reports. A big chunk of my job is dedicated to analyzing our numbers, and once a quarter, I dedicate almost a full week to the task. It’s boring and mindnumbing, but also enlightening. By the time I’m finished, I’ll have tons of useful data I can apply to future decisions and plans that will help McKinley continue to expand.

Since the analysis requires so much actual hands-on time, I keep my schedule light on weeks like this, which has conveniently afforded me an afternoon window to meet up with the builder who will be making modifications to my home. The effort it takes for Zara to move from the first floor to the second—and vice versa—is substantial. She allows me to give her a little boost occasionally, but for the most part, she insists on getting where she wants to go on her own. I love how determined and independent she is, but all it would take is one slip and she could end up taking a tumble.

That’s not an option. Getting started making her new home accessible as soon as possible is. Hopefully I can throw a little cash-based encouragement the builder’s way and get bumped to the top of his schedule.

It’s almost lunchtime when Ruth rushes back into my office. I’m expecting her to simply remind me she’s leaving, but instead she comes straight to my desk, slapping her palms against the surface.

“I think I found something.”

I’ve been staring at numbers for so long, it takes my brain a second to register her words. “From the files on my aunt’s accident?”

She nods, eyes wide. “It might not be anything, so I don’t want to tell Walker yet. I don’t want to get his hopes up.” She pauses, chewing on her lower lip. “When I saw the first mention of another person, I wasn’t sure it would be important. But then I saw what was scribbled in the margins of a report, and⁠—”

“Hang on.” I’m forced to interrupt her, because I can’t follow a fucking thing she’s saying.

Ruth is always calm and collected. Very little flusters her, which is why she’s such a great fit for the position as my assistant. Seeing her so ruffled is strange.

It also has me hopeful.

“Take a deep breath.” I inhale along with her, blowing the air from my lungs as she does the same. “Now. What did you find?”

“I don’t think Walker’s mom was the only person involved in that car accident.”

The words tumble from Ruth’s mouth—yet another unusual behavior for her—displaying just how affected she is by the discovery. She thinks it might actually be something, and Ruth is pretty fucking brilliant, so if she thinks it’s something, it probably is.

“Okay.” The word drags out as I process what this could mean.

The facts about my aunt’s death have always been limited. We were told there was an accident. Initially, there was mention of another vehicle being involved. Then, they claimed there was no other vehicle at all and the damage to her car was from the way it rolled down the incline. But when my mother went to see the car herself, hoping for closure, there were distinct transfer marks down the driver’s side.

“Exactly how is this other person mentioned?” We’ve always suspected someone else was responsible. There were too many unanswered questions. No explanation for why she left the road in the first place.

“There’s what might be a birth date. A basic description.” Ruth straightens, clasping her hands at her waist. “And a name.”

Oh shit. “You found a name?”

Ruth nods, still looking a little shell shocked. “I think so. It’s only one though, and I can’t tell if it’s first or last.”

“Shit.” That’s not a lot, but it is something.

I scrub one hand over my face, weighing our options. We could go to Walker now. Show him what Ruth found even though we don’t know what any of it means. Or we could call Heidi and have her do a little digging.

I wish we could use Titus’s team, but the circle of trust is really fucking small right now, and I’m not sure anyone could handle another employee betraying us.

“Send me what you’ve got and I’ll pass it on to Heidi.” I open my email and start composing. “We’ll see if she can come up with anything concrete before we tell Walker about it.”