Page 6 of Ranger's Justice

Fury spikes through me, and I don’t even give him time to speak. “Are you kidding me?”

His lips press into a thin line. “I’m not.”

I plant my fisted hands, knuckles down on his desk, leaning in. “Marcus, that’s a direct link between Hollister’s accounts and the Del Toro cartel’s smuggling operation. I traced the wire transfers. I followed the offshore accounts. That money is dirty, and you damn well know it.”

He nods, but it’s not the agreement I want. “It’s suspicious, yes. It suggests…”

“It proves,” I snap.

His gaze sharpens. “It suggests, Cassidy. Not proves. These numbers won’t hold up in a court of law. All it proves is that money moved between businesses, and that isn’t illegal.”

I feel like I just took a punch to the gut. I straighten, crossing my arms as if I can protect myself from what I know is coming. “So that’s it? We do nothing?”

Marcus sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks… tired. “Cassidy, you’re good at this. Damn good. But you’re also too close. You want Hollister to be guilty so badly, you’re seeing what you want to see.”

I stiffen. “You think I’m making this up?”

“I think you’re trying to force a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit.” He gestures to the file. “What you have is circumstantial. It won’t hold. We need more.”

Anger burns in my chest. “And how do we get more, Marcus? Sit on our asses and wait for him to hand us a signed confession?”

His gaze turns sharp. “You think I don’t want him taken down? You think I haven’t spent years trying to find something solid enough to bury him? But this? It’s not enough. And if you push too hard, too fast, you’re going to get noticed, put yourself in danger and let him get away.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Fine.”

He stands, palms flat on the desk, eyes dark with warning. “Not fine. Not good. Dangerous. If Hollister gets wind that someone is digging into his finances, what do you think he’ll do?”

I already know, but I don’t say it.

Marcus waits. When I don’t answer, his voice drops lower. “He’ll clean house. He’ll bury whatever trail he left behind, and we’ll be right back where we started.”

A chill snakes down my spine. I hate that he’s right. Hate it, but that doesn’t mean I can let this go.

Marcus studies me for a long moment before lowering his voice. “Cassidy… I’m asking you to be smart about this.”

Smart? Nothing about this is smart.

But waiting won’t change anything.

I push off the desk and snatch the file back, shoving it and the other papers into my bag.

Marcus sighs. “Cass...”

“I get it,” I cut him off. “It’s not enough.” I shoulder my bag and head for the door.

He doesn’t stop me, but just before I step out, he speaks. “Cassidy.”

With my hand on the doorknob, I pause.

His voice is gentle. Too gentle. “Be careful.”

I don’t answer; I just walk out, head down to my office and go inside. I close the door behind me, toss my bag onto the desk, and collapse into my chair. I dump the contents of my bag onto my desk and clench my fists to keep from screaming.

I’d been up all night going over the evidence I’d been able to put together. I’d spent months doing it—spent all my free time painstakingly gathering it and piecing it together, but I knew Marcus would never go for it. I knew Marcus wouldn’t green light an official move on Hollister, but some stupid, reckless part of me thought—hoped—he’d back me up, anyway.

I was wrong. I rub my temples, breathing through the frustration, and begin to sift dispassionately through the papers on my desk. Marcus is right. What I have isn’t enough.

Fine. I’ll get more.

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