“May I speak to Matt Leon?” It was a woman’s voice, low and smooth.

“Speaking.”

“This is Kate Lange. I’m defense counsel for Leah Roberts.”

Oh, God. Had something happened to her? Fear stabbed him hard in the stomach. “Is she okay?”

“Yes. She’s conscious and alert. She gave me your number.”

“Why?” Hope uncurled in his heart.

* * *

The way Matt said that one word spoke volumes. Matt still had feelings for Leah. But would he put his hacktivist principles above his feelings for Leah? After all, she wasn’t his girlfriend now. And from the sounds of it, she had ignored his well-founded advice.

“She needs your help, Matt. But before I explain why, I need your undertaking that everything I tell you will be kept strictly confidential. It can’t be posted online or shared with anyone in the Forum.” Kate glanced through her kitchen window. The back garden rustled with unseen nocturnal activity. “If any of this is leaked, it’s game over for Leah. The Crown will come after her with its biggest guns. You need to understand this, Matt.”

“Of course I wouldn’t post anything online. I understand that it’s confidential. What can I do to help her?”

His offer sounded genuine. Heartfelt. She’d have to trust that this conversation did not end up on the Internet. “First of all, Leah asked me to tell you that she was sorry.”

“I know she is.” His voice was soft.

“How much do you know about what happened last night?”

“I don’t know the full story.”

Who ever knew the full story? Even the actors in the story had their own perceptions of what happened.

Was it all an illusion?

She shook her head. Enough of the existential musings. “Leah told me that you advised her not to do this. If it gives you any comfort, she had wanted to turn back before even breaking in to the Owen house but Aiden Boyne pulled a knife on her.”

“Jesus Christ. I’m going to kill the bastard.”

Kate kept her voice neutral. “The Crown have offered Leah an immunity deal if she can deliver the identity and whereabouts of Aiden Boyne, as well as her laptop—”

“We have her laptop.”

“You do?” Matt was in Florida, wasn’t he? “How did you get that?”

“Her brother Joey took it under my instruction.”

She closed her eyes. Joey. The not-yet-man with the man-bun. He was old enough to be charged and tried as an adult, in a case that was so sensational that they might have to ask to change venues, and that would have not just the criminal justice system on its ear, but the federal government breathing down their backs.