Chapter 26
Dev let himself into the lobby. An unusual stillness greeted him. Greta almost always opened the office, but today was Sunday. Cari was at the gallery prepping for a showing, and rather than kick around at home all alone, he came in to catch up on an inbox full of work. Greta would be ecstatic.
Weekends were usually quiet unless a case went sideways. This one already had.
He started a pot of coffee in the break area and headed toward his office. Halfway down the short hallway, a string of muttering stopped him cold.
Someone was here.
Dev followed the sound to Callan’s partially open door.
The man sat hunched over in front of dual monitors still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
His dark hair stood up in uneven spikes, as if he’d dragged both hands through it repeatedly during the night.
Empty 5-hour Energy bottles crowded the trash beside his desk while surveillance footage flickered nonstop across every available screen.
“Have you been here all night?”
Callan jumped hard enough to knock his keyboard sideways before spinning around in his chair.
“Jesus, Dev.” One hand flattened against his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Dev’s gaze dropped meaningfully toward the empty bottles overflowing the trash can.
“Bet your heart’s racing.” He walked in and picked one up between two fingers. “Maybe ease off these things, bud. I’d hate to see you have a heart attack before you’re eligible to run for president.”
Callan snorted tiredly. “Six months and I can start campaigning.”
“You look about seventy right now.”
“That’s hurtful.”
“It’s truthful.”
Despite the sarcasm, Dev studied his bloodshot eyes, unshaven jaw, the wired, brittle edge of someone who’d pushed past exhaustion and landed deep in caffeine-fueled obsession.
“What are you working on?”
“The security breach. The firm handling the party Emily catered finally sent over the full files instead of snippets.”
“It’s about time,” Dev muttered. “But I thought they refused, worried about liability. What changed their minds?”
“You mean who? I had Leland call and use his persuasive skills when my pleading failed miserably.”
Dev chuckled. “Even working remotely, he’s got a knack.”
“I ran through the files last night, found nothing, and went home. But something kept bugging me.” Callan turned back toward the monitors and queued the footage again. “I couldn’t let it go. Then I found it.”
“Found what?” Rhys asked, walking in with a cup of coffee, perfectly composed despite the early hour.
“What are you doing here?” Dev asked, surprised to see him.
He took a slow sip from his tall paper cup, before he drawled, “Working. Like you two degenerates.” Rhys’s gaze moved over the screens. “I hope you mean you found the breach.”
Callan pointed toward the monitor. “Watch the delivery van.”
Dev stepped closer.
At first glance, nothing looked unusual. Employees moving through the service corridor. Cars entering and leaving the rear lot. Normal overnight activity.
The sequence repeated frame for frame.
Rhys went still beside him. “That’s looped footage.”
Callan nodded grimly. “Thirty-eight seconds inserted over the live feeds of three cameras. Long enough to conceal someone entering through the rear service corridor, planting the scrunchie, and leaving before Julia and Mateo returned inside.”
Dev stared at the frozen frame. “He walked straight through security.”
“Not ours,” Callan corrected automatically. “The venue’s.”
He looked at him flatly. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Callan scrubbed both hands over his face. “I do.”
Rhys folded his arms, studying the monitor in silence for several moments. “The earlier offenses relied on isolation and opportunity,” he said finally. “This didn’t.”
“No,” Dev agreed quietly.
“This was deliberate and premeditated,” Rhys concluded, staring at the looping footage.
Callan nodded. “More than that, he understood exactly where the vulnerabilities were and how long he could manipulate the system without detection.”
Whoever did this was competent and prepared. Dev dreaded those two traits together. “Can you trace it?” he asked.
“I’m trying.” Callan zoomed in on another section of code. “He covered himself well, but nobody’s perfect.”
“Find me something.”
“That’s the plan.”
Dev pulled out his phone and stepped into the hallway. Leland answered on the second ring.
“What?”
No greeting. Just tension.
Dev almost smiled. “How’s Julia?”
A pause.
“Restless and bored, as expected.”
Dev propped one shoulder against the wall. “Cari invited her to my birthday party tonight.”
Another silence.
“Being social would be good for her,” Leland admitted finally.
“I don’t see a problem with it.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“No,” Dev agreed easily. “Because if you hadn’t vetoed my original protection plan, she’d already be there.”
A low, irritated sound rumbled through the line.
Dev ignored it. “Are you two getting along?”
That silence lasted longer.
“Better,” Leland said.
Interesting. Neither good nor bad. A man trying not to say too much.
Dev allowed that to sit for a second. “There’s a point where caution stops being caution and starts becoming stupidity.”
“I’m not in the mood for relationship advice.”
“Good thing I’m not giving advice.” Dev’s tone stayed easy. “I’m telling you life’s too damn short not to grab happiness when it lands in your lap.”
Silence.
“She deserves better than what I’ve got left.”
Dev’s tone sharpened. “That woman’s terrified, sleeping in your bed, wearing your clothes, and still looking at you like you hung the damn moon.”
“Yarborough likes to talk,” Leland grunted.
“Was he wrong?” Dev asked. “Maybe stop deciding what she deserves and let her decide for herself.”
The silence afterward stretched longer.
Then, finally: “You done?”
“Not remotely, but Cari says I’m supposed to ease people into emotional growth.”
That pulled a rough, reluctant laugh out of Leland—brief but real.
After the call ended, Dev stood there another moment, staring through the office glass toward Callan and Rhys still working the footage.
His old friend was in trouble. Now that Julia was inside his home, sleeping in his bed and moving through his space like she belonged there, Leland was running out of ways to pretend she was better off without him.
The way Dev say it, the problem wasn’t allowing her in anymore. It was that Leland no longer had any idea how he’d survive losing her again.