Page 12 of Corrupted Union

I splashed my face with water and took several deep breaths.

Then what are you going to do?

I need more information.

And where will you find it? You couldn’t come up with anything on Google, and Dad wasn’t any help. If you go to the authorities, anything they find could end up hurting Dad.

It was true. Dad and Lawrence Wellington had been friends for too long to avoid a controversy. Any questioning I did would need to be behind the scenes. Maybe a private investigator? That might work, but who? And did they have an obligation to report crimes to the authorities?

I couldn’t let this touch my father, but I also didn’t think I could ignore the crying woman. Something deep in my bones told me Stetson’s father was bad news. I just needed proof.

What will you do once you get that proof?

I’ll tell Dad, and he can handle it privately.

And Stetson?

I bent at the hips and lowered my head between my arm, my hands propping me against the bathroom vanity. Everything was so confusing where Stetson was concerned. How would his father’s actions impact my view of him? Should I tell him about my suspicions? If so, when? How would he respond?

I hated uncertainty. I liked plans and order and knowing exactly what to expect.

An echo of the woman’s cry drifted through my mind like a chilling gust of wind. She needed me, and when it came down to it, that was all that mattered.

Okay, Wonder Woman, how do you plan to accomplish this great rescue?

I rolled my eyes and plodded back to my bedroom.

Don’t be dramatic. All I want right now is more information.

Who can get that to you without raising any red flags?

Someone good with technology. Someone who didn’t mind bending the rules and who was used to getting information on people. I didn’t know anyone like that personally, but a pair of turbulent ocean eyes flashed in my mind.

Keir Byrne had managed to break into the governor’s home and offered dirt on the mayor for blackmail purposes. He was exactly the sort of man who could dig up information on Lawrence Wellington.

A seductive tendril of excitement, the same as I’d felt in my parents’ kitchen, coiled tight in my belly. I couldn’t deny that I wanted to see him again. Was I letting my intrigue cloud my judgment? Possibly. Keir didn’t strike me as the type to play nice. If he found a skeleton in Wellington’s closet, would he use it against my father? He wanted something from Dad, and Wellington’s indiscretions could be used as leverage against my father.

But wouldn’t it be better to deal with whatever was happening behind closed doors than have the press blast the information on every news channel? Whatever we uncovered could be a ticking time bomb.

Or it could be absolutely nothing.

And if that’s the case, no harm, no foul.

What a clusterfuck. I plopped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling.

How about this? What if we just go talk to him and see how it goes?

I raised my hands, half expecting to see red crusted beneath my fingernails.

She needs you.

I know.

That meant there was only one option.

Tomorrow, I go to the Moxy.

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