Page 36 of Fatal Pattern

Blade sagged back, hands dragging down his face.

Her heart hurt for him. “Blade . . .” She wanted to shove aside her own ghosts and carry some of his weight.

He pulled into a gas station, parking under the canopy. “Can you pull up the coverage?”

Tori’s fingers slid across her phone screen and found the local news. A female reporter stood outside what looked like a federal courthouse, microphone poised.

The banner across the bottom read: BREAKING NEWS—DR. WALTER FOREST DEAD IN CUSTODY.

She turned the volume up and pressed play on the video.

“Dr. Walter Forest was found in his cell early this morning,” the reporter said. “Forest had been transferred to a federal courthouse yesterday to begin jury selection for his upcoming trial when the attack occurred. According to sources, Forest was stabbed by another inmate while being held in a temporary holding facility. The suspect has not been named, and an investigation is ongoing.”

The screen cut to file footage of Forest being led away in handcuffs months ago, his expensive suit wrinkled and his hair disheveled. Tori remembered that day. The day Corbin and Luna nearly died infiltrating Dr. Forest’s secret laboratory.

“Walter Forest and his daughter Elizabeth Forest were arrested for their alleged involvement in a human organ trafficking ring operating out of the Chiron BioInnovation Center,” the reporter continued. “The charges include trafficking in human organs, criminal assault, medical malpractice, and conspiracy. Dr. Elizabeth Forest died while in custody earlier this year from complications of heart failure. She had been awaiting trial alongside her father. We’ll update you as we receive more information.”

The video ended. Tori put down her phone. “What does this mean?”

“All those months digging, and the one witness who could’ve blown the organ ring wide open is murdered before trial?” Blade smacked his palm flat against the steering wheel.

His breaths came clipped, measured. Like he was forcing his lungs to fall in line while the case bled out underneath him.

“Hey.” She touched his forearm. “We still have Elizabeth’s research notes. The FBI seized everything from Chiron.” Not to mention Trinity Brown, a walking, talking science experiment.

“Notes aren’t testimony.” Blade pulled out a piece of gum and folded it into his mouth. “Forest could have named names, exposed the whole network. Now we’re back to circumstantial evidence and secondhand information.”

The evidence against Forest and his daughter had been rock solid. Financial records, victim testimonies, the lab equipment seized from Chiron. More than enough to put them away for life. But the FBI had wanted those at the top of the ladder. They’d needed Forest alive to trace the money flowing into his operation, to identify whoever had bankrolled it.

A few midlevel associates sat in federal holding cells, but those arrests felt like swatting flies while the spider remained hidden in its web. Somewhere in the shadows lurked someone with deep enough pockets to fund human experimentation, someone who viewed people as spare parts for the highest bidder. Someone who could afford to eliminate loose ends before they testified.

“Well, sitting here isn’t going to help. What’s next?” she asked.

He inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils and chewed a few more rounds on the gum. “I’ll drop you off at your place, then stop in to chat with Agent Wells. See what’s left of our case.”

He shifted into drive and circled the parking lot toward the exit. Tori watched his profile as he navigated around a minivan. Another case consuming his evening. Another plan derailed. How was Kiara going to handle it when Blade didn’t show? She probably had dinner reservations somewhere with cloth napkins and wine lists, expecting her boyfriend to arrive on time with flowers and apologies for his demanding job. Instead, she’d get a phone call about federal investigations and dead witnesses.

She twisted her fingers in her lap. Kiara deserved better than a man married to his badge. Didn’t all women?

Blade pulled into Tori’s driveway and cut the engine. He unbuckled his seat belt.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

His brows dipped, head tilting like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Walking you in.”

“Blade.”

“Tori.” He stepped out of the Charger and waited for her to follow.

She unlocked the door and shoved it open, light spilling across the living room as she slapped on the switch. Blade trailed in behind, palm hovering close to his Glock like he expected company.

“Kitchen first,” he said, already angling past her.

She planted herself in the doorway, arms hooked across her chest. “What, you moonlighting as my bodyguard now?”

He rattled the back door, leaned in to check the strike plate, then peeled the blinds apart with two fingers.

“I’ve been taking care of myself for years, Mr. Macho.”