Page 24 of Critical Strike

“After what Weston did for me, whatever you need is worth it. You in a private space?”

Luke glanced over at her. “Claire is here. We’re on the road.”

Rick was silent for a moment. “You sure we shouldn’t talk alone for a few minutes?”

Claire caught his eye. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

How could she possibly blame Luke if he felt like he needed to talk to his police officer friend without her listening in?

Luke shook his head. “She didn’t do it, Rick. She didn’t kill Julia Lindsey. Her boss, Vance Ballard, did. Claire is a witness.”

Rick let out a loud sigh. “Well, the mandate to find her is coming all the way from the top of the Texas law enforcement chain. Through the same office of the guys who paid you a visit yesterday—Arellano and Fisher.”

Claire caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Cops had questioned Luke yesterday?

“What’s that mean?” Luke asked. “Are they dirty?”

“I don’t think so. But this whole thing feels wrong. It’s got a political flavor to it, like someone is using Texas law enforcement for their own personal vendetta—especially if you’re assuring me Ms. Wallace didn’t have anything to do with the murder.”

Claire stopped chewing her lip long enough to speak up. “Vance Ballard is powerful. He would probably have friends very high up the chain. They may not be corrupt, but they would be more willing to listen to what he says about me because they know him.”

“Right,” Rick agreed. “The problem is, I’m the only one who was looking into you before all this went down. I’m the only one who knew your file had been locked and that there was something not right about this entire situation.”

“How bad is the evidence?” Luke asked.

“Bad. And there’s nothing I can do for you from my level. Even if I started to shout that something smells fishy, I don’t have any proof of any wrongdoing. Bottom line is, watch your back because there’s a giant target on it.”

Claire caught Luke’s eye. He offered what was probably an attempt at a reassuring smile, except it looked more like a grimace.

“Roger that, Rick.”

“I’ve got to go.” There was the sound of muffled voices on Rick’s end. “I’ll email you the files I have on the evidence in about ten minutes. But it won’t make you happy.”

Luke nodded even though Rick couldn’t see him. “Thanks for everything. Take care of yourself.”

Hanging up, Luke passed the phone to Claire. Mute, she took it.

Fifteen minutes later, they stopped at a higher-end hotel—one that had a business center where he could access his email and print the files Rick had sent.

Claire knew by the look on his face as he came back out that it wasn’t good. Like Rick had said, he wasn’t happy.

He handed the printouts to her as he pulled back onto the street.

Reading the printouts soon had everything she’d eaten at the diner curdling in her belly. Ballard had created a fake email chain that made it look like Claire was jealous of Julia because of her position at Passage.

Her tongue had become impossibly heavy. “It’s all false.”

Tears blurred her vision. It was a good fabrication. It looked like Julia and Claire had messaged back and forth multiple times, with Claire accusing Julia of stealing her ideas. Claire came across as bitter and ugly—warning Julia to “watch her back,” and that she would make sure the emails would never be found by anyone.

Then Ballard had swooped in like the hero and dug them up.

The papers shook in her hand as she read it all again. “It makes me look unstable. But the chain is reasonable with just enough detail without going overboard. He probably took real emails between me and Julia and just changed the content.”

Ballard had manipulated it to make it look like the communication started weeks ago and then escalated.

“That can be done?”

“Not by most people.” She closed her eyes, wishing it would all go away. “But by Ballard, yes.”

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