“Joey, I don’t want you to get into any more trouble. But if you go, the police will take you into custody. You’re their only link to the laptop right now.”

“Shit.” Joey stared at the laptop, his gaze miserable. “What should I do?”

“Just hang on for tonight. You can stay here. Tell your parents not to worry, that you’ll come home tomorrow. Tell them you are trying to help Leah, if that will make them feel better.”

Joey shook his head. “They’ll freak out.”

“Then just tell them you are safe and you’ll see them tomorrow.”

Joey texted the message, his leg jiggling.

“And now, we need to get back online and find out who Aiden Boyne is. We screwed our big opportunity.” Matt’s head throbbed. His hands were sticky with his blood and with Aiden’s. “I’m going to out him on the Forum. It’s time to see if anyone knows about this exploit he’s talking about.”

Chapter 43

Chapter 43

1:08 a.m.

“You still at the station? It’s Riley,” she added.

Cooper pulled over to the side of his street. “Yes. I’m here. What’s up?”

He glanced through the windshield at his house. The bedroom light was on.

“Don’t wait up for me,” he’d said, when he called at eight-thirty.

I want to,” Steph said. There was no disguising what she meant by that.

“Hon, I’m on a case. I don’t know what time I’ll be home.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”

And she meant it. She’d always been the consummate police officer wife. Understanding of his shift work, undemanding when a case kept him away.

The only thing she minded waiting for was a child.

“Murphy just finished his forensics on Mel Owen’s computer. You’ve got to see this.” There was a note of excitement to Riley’s voice.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Steph and he had bought a house in the newly-gentrified North End. With a yard. And four bedrooms.

He had never felt at ease in the house. Every time he entered a bedroom with an unoccupied bed, the room recriminated him for not providing a child to sleep in it. And not just any child. His child. Steph’s child.

Their child.

He put the car in reverse, turned around and drove to the station. He would sleep at the station.

Eventually, Steph would turn out the bedroom light.

Fourteen minutes later, he swiped his pass in the station’s security system. The Forensics Identification Service ran its lab in the basement. He headed downstairs, his feet echoing in the empty stairwell, and opened the door to the FIS.