He frowns when I come into his view. “Jesus, why do I keep seeing you?”

I’m sure the man your wife had an affair with isn’t what you want to see before starting your day.

I hold up Rex’s papers. “I have a case for you.”

He puts the paper down and picks up his coffee. “If it’s about the assault, you need to take that up with the police. We don’t deal with small crimes like that.”

“Is a massive drug operation on a college campus a big enough crime for you?”

He pauses mid-sip of his coffee. “Go on.”

I slam the folder down on the table in front of him, causing his coffee cup to rattle. “It’s all right here. Texts, voicemails, the guys involved. My guy managed to speak to a man who used to work for them. When he told them he wanted out, they beat the shit out of him. If you can grant him immunity, he’ll tell you everything you need to know from the dirty cops they’re paying off, to their connections, to where they’re buying and making the drugs.” I blow out a breath before going on. “Cassidy, the woman he assaulted, is filing a police report against him today. Her brother is a police officer with Blue Beech PD. His thoughts are, as soon as they talk to Cassidy, they’ll go pick Quinton up for questioning. That means, he’ll basically be delivered to you.”

He gawks at me. “How do I know this is factual evidence?”

“I know I’m not the guy you want to trust, but this is worth looking into.” I gesture to the documents, the ones I read during stoplights on my drive here. “You think I had time to forge these? That I’d make this shit up?”

He pays the evidence a quick glance, a this is a joke glance. “I’ll look through it.”

“That’s all I’m asking. And there are some dirty cops in there you might want to look into as well.”

That piques his interest, and he starts thumbing through the papers.

“Do with it what you please. I have to get back to my girl.”

Isla gasps as I walk by her, and I don’t glance back once.

Chapter Thirty

Cassidy

“You’re the bravest person I know,” Lincoln tells me on our way into the police station.

It’s scary.

More terrifying than the one I was actually taken to when I was arrested.

The drive here was filled with me battling with myself. Me coming here would be a clear fuck you to Quinton, and that scared the shit out of me. I remembered his intimidation, all the threats he’d put against my family and me, and I silently prayed that they were all empty.

Surely, he wouldn’t be that dumb.