Triplets for the Silver Fox

17. Rowan

ROWAN

Callie is halfway through telling me I'm a hypocrite when Harper walks into the safe-house kitchen carrying the gate-access report.

My sister points at me with a piece of toast. "You make Erik ask permission before changing my security, then you call me like I committed a felony because I walked across campus."

I sigh. "Can we drop it? I already admitted I was wrong about why you were alone."

"You admitted there was a fire alarm."

I shrug. "That was the reason."

She waves the toast again. "That's not the same thing as admitting you were wrong."

Harper puts the report on the table between us. "I'd like to interrupt this family-growth moment with evidence."

Callie looks at her. "Please."

I take the report before either of them can enjoy themselves more. "Richard's office."

Harper pulls out the chair beside me. "Administrative credential issued at nine-oh-four yesterday morning authorized temporary south-gate access for an outside student-services contractor."

"Contractor name?"

"Fake." Harper points to the request number. "The company exists. That employee doesn't."

Callie stops eating.

I look toward her. "This is exactly why I was scared."

She sets down the toast. "You're doing it again."

I stop.

Callie pushes her plate aside. "The danger can be real, and you can still be controlling."

That is considerably harder to argue with, and I look away. She leaves the kitchen with her coffee before I can try.

Harper waits until the stairwell door closes. "She has a point."

I glare at her. "You're not helping."

"I'm not trying to." Harper turns the report toward herself. "Richard's office issued the credential, but that isn't where the request started."

I pull my chair closer while she taps the originating department.

Student legal clinic.

I read the line twice. "Evelyn."

"Her clinic." Harper opens another page. "The request came through a protected matter number. We need to check it before we decide she personally touched anything."

I close the report and stand. "Then we go to campus."

Makari appears in the kitchen doorway almost immediately.

I look at him. "Were you listening?"

He doesn't even flinch. "Yes."

"At least you're consistent."

He also doesn't apologize. "You can go after security clears the route."

I narrow my eyes. "I wasn't asking."

"I know." Makari takes out his phone. "Erik already agreed."

That changes my answer. "He did?"

"He said you'd go whether he liked it or not, and he preferred to know the vehicle."

Harper looks between us. "That may be the most romantic thing anybody has said in this house."

Makari chuckles while I gather the reports before she can make it worse.

Callie comes back to campus with us because she has class, which gives me twenty minutes in the SUV to avoid another argument.

She doesn't let me.

"You still haven't said it."

I look up from the security report. "Said what?"

"That you were wrong."

"I said I assumed you ditched the detail when you didn't."

Callie leans against the seat. "That's an explanation."

Harper looks out the window, pretending not to listen.

Makari doesn't bother pretending.

I close the folder. "I was wrong."

Callie waits.

"I was scared, and I decided what happened before I asked you." The words aren't difficult because they're complicated. They're difficult because they're accurate. "You didn't do anything stupid."

Her shoulders drop a little. "Thank you."

"I still hate that you walked alone."

"I know."

I'm trying not to belabor the point but can't resist saying, "I'd still rather you waited."

"I know that too."

I point at her. "You're enjoying this."

She smirks. "A little."

Makari looks at the road. "She learned from you."

Harper covers a laugh with a cough.

I return to the report before the vehicle becomes unbearable. At Fenwick, security takes Callie toward her class while Harper and I go directly to the clinic. Evelyn is already waiting in her office with the access request open on her screen.

She doesn't waste time defending herself. "The request is real." Evelyn rotates the monitor toward us. "Two student witnesses in an athletics complaint asked to enter through the south gate because they didn't want to cross the main quad."

I read the matter number. It matches Harper's report. "Who submitted it?"

"My graduate assistant prepared it." Evelyn opens the approval chain. "I approved the matter request. The access authorization goes to central administration after that."

Harper points to the contractor field. "This name isn't real."

"I didn't enter it." Evelyn's answer is immediate. She opens the original document and shows us the witness initials. "Neither student asked for a contractor. They requested private entry for themselves."

The timestamp matches, and the witnesses exist. I recognize one of the initials from a scholarship complaint Harper handled last year.

Evelyn folds her arms. "You think this request was used to get somebody onto campus?"

"Yes."

"Then preserve my original before you do anything else." She reaches for the printer. "I want a copy outside the university system."

That's exactly what an innocent person would do. It's also exactly what a careful guilty person might do. I hate this investigation.

Harper seems to reach the same conclusion. "Who in central administration could alter the request?"

Evelyn prints the approval log. "Richard's office receives it. His executive assistants handle routine signatures."

She frowns. "How many assistants?"

"Two."

I take the pages from the printer after Evelyn moves away. "We need Richard."

Richard receives us in his office forty minutes later with one of his assistants still at the outer desk. He reads the credential report without visible surprise. "My electronic signature is applied by either assistant for routine access requests."

"Which one approved this?" I put Evelyn's original beside the altered version.

Richard compares them. "I don't know."

Harper stays near the end of the conference table. "The contractor name was added after the request left the clinic."

He doesn't argue. "That appears to be what happened."

I watch him. "You're not denying your office issued the credential."

"No." Richard sets both pages down. "I'm telling you I didn't personally issue it."

"Can you prove that?"

"My calendar puts me in Hartford at nine that morning." He takes out his phone and opens the appointment. "Both assistants remained here."

Harper checks the timestamp against her notes. "Which assistant processed gate access?"

He shrugs. "Either could have." That's true.

Evelyn's documentation is genuine. Richard was in Hartford. His office still produced a credential that allowed one of Orell's men through the gate.

I look at Harper when we reach the corridor. "We're not looking for one liar."

She closes the folder. "I know."

"Evelyn told the truth. Richard may be telling the truth. Liya's credentials were really used without her approval, and Erik's were too." I start toward the stairs. "Everybody can be telling the truth about their own part."

Harper falls into step beside me. "Somebody is standing where the parts overlap."

"Yes."

That person knows which legitimate request to alter, which office can approve it, and which credential can survive the audit afterward.

We're getting closer. I only wish I knew to whom.

Practice starts at four. The spirit program is still limited to conditioning, which means nobody should be doing full stunts. Coach gives us floor work, strength circuits, and basic timing drills instead.

Vanessa waits until the squad is gathered before making her contribution.

"Some of us have actually been here all week."

I look at the attendance sheet rather than at her.

She continues. "People are starting to wonder how many absences you get when you're sleeping with administration."

The gym quiets enough that shoes stop squeaking on the floor.

I finish marking attendance.

Vanessa steps closer. "There's a black SUV outside Fenwick every day. Another one outside the penthouse. People aren't stupid."

I want to answer, which is why I don't. Anything I say becomes the next version of the story.

I put the clipboard on the table. "Warm-up starts with two laps."

Vanessa laughs once. "That's it?"

I face the squad. "Two laps."

They move.

Ignoring her costs more than arguing would. I can tell from the glances. By tomorrow, silence will become an admission for anyone who already wants it to be.

I let them think whatever they want for one practice.

Tyler arrives near the end. He waits beside the doors until the last conditioning group leaves the floor, then approaches while I'm collecting resistance bands. "I owe you an apology."

I keep winding the first band. "For which part?"

"The reception." He stops several feet away. "I shouldn't have touched you after you said no."

That's better than the excuses I expected. "No, you shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry."

I put the band in the equipment bin. "Thank you."

Tyler looks toward the doors, then back at me. "I also should've stopped asking after the first dinner answer."

"Yes."

His mouth twists. "You're making this hard."

I look at him. "I'm not responsible for making your apology comfortable."

"That's fair." He reaches toward me, then stops before touching me. "Can I ask once more, with the understanding that I won't ask again?"

I should say no to the question itself. Instead, I let him finish.

"Dinner. One time. No expectations."

"No."

Tyler looks disappointed rather than offended.

That helps.

Then he takes my hand. The contact is brief, almost instinctive, but still unwanted.

The gym doors open behind him, and Erik walks in.

I know exactly when he sees Tyler holding my hand because his entire posture changes. He starts across the floor.

I look at him. That's all.

Erik stops. Every part of him wants to keep coming, but he stays where he is anyway.

I pull my hand from Tyler's. "I said no."

Tyler glances toward Erik, then back at me. "I know."

"You also touched me after I said it."

He looks down. "You're right."

"I don't want dinner, flowers, another chance, or another conversation about whether I might change my mind." I put the last band in the bin. "You need to accept the answer."

Tyler's face reddens, though he gives me what I asked for. "I will." He leaves through the side door without looking at Erik.

I wait until he's gone before turning.

Erik is still near the main entrance. He didn't move, which matters more than I want it to.

He follows me into the hallway after practice.

I reach the empty stretch outside the equipment office before I stop and turn toward him. "You wanted to cross the floor."

"Yes."

"At least you admit it."

Erik stays several feet away. "I also didn't."

I nod. "I noticed."

He looks toward the gym doors before returning his attention to me. "That was difficult."

I almost laugh. "Should I congratulate you for not dragging a quarterback through a wall?"

He lifts a corner of his mouth. "No."

"Good."

Erik shifts his injured side away from the wall before leaning against it. "I wanted him away from you."

"I know."

"I still do."

"That's where we have a problem." I adjust my bag higher on my shoulder. "I don't need to be owned."

His expression changes. He looks unsettled.

"I'm not saying you think I'm property." I take a step closer. "I'm saying every time another man touches me, you act like somebody crossed a boundary that belongs to you."

Erik pushes away from the wall. "I hated watching him hold your hand."

"That's allowed."

"I hated stopping."

I soften a bit. "That's also allowed."

He comes one step closer, then stops. "You think the problem is what I want?"

I shake my head. "The problem is what you do with it."

"I know."

The easy agreement irritates me again. "You keep saying that."

"I keep learning the same lesson in more expensive ways."

I look at his side where the bullet gave him one of those lessons. "That isn't funny."

"I wasn't joking."

Neither of us speaks for a moment.

I tighten my grip on the bag strap. "I don't know what this is if every person around us becomes a threat to it."

Erik looks at me for long enough that I wish I hadn't asked. When he answers, his voice stays steady. "Whatever this is, it stopped being possession several weeks ago."

My throat closes.

He doesn't say the other word, but neither do I.

He is close enough now that I could touch him without taking a full step. I don't get a chance.

Harper comes around the corner carrying a printout. She sees us and stops walking, then looks from me to Erik.

Her eyes widen, but she doesn't say anything about our stance. "I may have found something."