33. Shep
33
SHEP
Slamming my truck’s door, I headed toward the old farmhouse. It was the last place I wanted to be. Usually, when life got twisted, working on a new project was exactly what I wanted. What I craved. But not now.
All I wanted was to be with Thea, make sure she was okay, and that her demons weren’t getting to her. I knew Trace needed to talk to both of us, but I’d wanted to deck him for laying all that on Thea’s shoulders.
I’d tried to get her to take the day off. Between last night and this morning, she needed a break. Some time to recover.
Of course, Thea had refused, instead heading into Bloom to work the early shift with Rhodes. So, here I was. Maybe I could take out some of my anger and frustration in demo.
I strode past Anson’s truck toward the property’s front door, but just as I reached it, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Sliding it out, I grimaced as I took in the screen.
Mara
How is your hand? Do you need anything? I could bring you and Anson lunch at the new property.
With as small as Sparrow Falls was, and the fact that Mara worked at the hardware store, I shouldn’t have been surprised she’d heard about my new project. But her text felt a touch intrusive. Normally, I’d never just ignore her—or anyone—but I didn’t have the energy to deal with it today. So, I locked my phone and shoved it back into my pocket.
Opening the front door, I headed toward the demolition sounds. As I hit the halfway-open living space, Anson halted in mid-swing with his sledgehammer. He lowered it and pushed the goggles into his dark blond hair. “Wasn’t sure you were going to make it. How’s the hand?”
I lifted it and flexed my fingers. Pain flared to life, but nothing that meant broken bones. My knuckles were bruised, but the tears in my flesh were already scabbing over thanks to Thea’s first-aid skills. “Not too bad.”
Anson simply arched a brow at that.
“Really. I didn’t break anything.”
“Good,” he grunted. “How’s Thea?”
That was a far more complicated question. As I mulled over how to answer it, I tugged my wallet from my back pocket. Opening it, I pulled out another one-dollar bill and handed it to Anson.
He glared at me. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “Are we in session, Doc?”
Anson set the sledgehammer down, resting it against some framing, then gestured for me to get on with it.
“Do you still have relationships with any of the hackers who advised your team at the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”
Anson’s eyes flared comically. He was typically a master of masking his reactions to things, but this was clearly the last thing he’d expected me to say. “You know I basically cut ties with everyone.”
He had. Because Anson hadn’t been able to live with the fallout from an especially horrible case. One that had found him even after he left. Silas. And here I was, the asshole bringing it all up again .
“Do you think you could get in touch with one of them? Someone who knows their way around the dark web?” I asked. I wouldn’t have asked if it was for me. I was asking for Thea. Because what she’d told me yesterday had stuck with me and played round and round in my head, only compounded by the shit Russ had pulled.
Anson studied me for a long moment. “I’ve got one. A guy who used to be a black hat. Now, he’s more of a crusader.”
“A black hat? What? Like some kind of wizard?”
Anson shook his head, his lips twitching. “Black hat means someone who hacks with malicious or criminal intent. A white hat hacks to help you find weaknesses in a system.”
“So, this guy? He’s a white hat now?”
Anson made a humming noise. “More of a gray hat, if that’s a thing. He still hacks with malicious intent, but that malice is just directed at those who do wrong.”
“That’s exactly what I need.” A trickle of hope bled into me. I might not be able to put Russ in a jail cell or wipe Brendan Boseman from the Earth, but maybe I could fix a little of the wrong that had been done to Thea.
“What the hell’s going on, Shep?”
I shoved my wallet back into my pocket. “Confidentiality.”
“I know,” Anson growled, offended by my constant reminders.
“Boseman put cameras in Thea’s house without her knowledge. When they broke up, he uploaded compromising photos and videos of her on every porn site he could find. She’s never been able to get them off.”
My voice didn’t sound like mine as I spoke. It was completely detached. So opposite from the fury pulsing inside me.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Anson snarled.
“I wish I were.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair, tugging on the strands. “He’s messed with her in every way imaginable. Got her fired from a job she loved. Fucked with her credit. Tore apart her life. And no one could catch him. She’s scared that if he finds her, it’ll happen all over again.”
Anson’s jaw worked back and forth. “I’ll call Dex now. If I tell him what happened, he’ll be all over this. Might just bury Boseman for fun, too.”
I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Just disappointed that I wouldn’t be the one to do it.
Anson looked at me for a long moment before speaking again. “What you told me was already bad, Shep. But this? This is a whole other level of fixation. Obsession.”
“I know.”
The words cut as they rose in my throat, leaving jagged tears behind. Because we both knew what could happen when obsession turned. There would be blood in its wake.