Killer looks for a killer woman.
But was she really a killer? Or were her attorney’s claims of innocence more than a woman trying to cover her client’s ass?
Archer studied those frozen eyes again.
They weren’t looking at the camera, but away as if searching for a means of escape. The Montgomery woman hadn’t turned toward the gaggle of reporters who’d shoved their way closer to shamelessly beg for a comment. Nor had the supposed murderer taken advantage of the media exposure to profess her innocence to the court of public appeal.
In fact, every snippet of footage Archer had seen of Cassandra Montgomery since her husband’s untimely—and highly sensationalized—death three days ago, the woman seemed to do everything she could to avoid the public eye.
Question was, was the woman trying to shield herself because she was guilty or because she was innocent and afraid? Was there more to the story than the evidence showed, or was this a simple case of a woman scorned?
All questions that had occupied his mind far too often these last three days.
Why the hell he gave a shit about some rich chick who offed her husband, was beyond him. It wasn’t like their hoity-toity lives affected his in any way.
In the end, The Black Widow Lawyer would probably pay her way to a not-guilty verdict, get some big, multi-million-dollar book deal, and have a made for T.V. movie produced about her life and how she was the real victim all along. Wasn’t that how most stories like those went?
Archer could see the headlines now…
Pretty Murderess Gets Off Scott Free. Public Showers Femme Fatale with Sympathy. Killer Paid Millions for Her Story.
Hitting the button once more, he took the T.V. off pause and watched the last portion of the news story again. Thistime, however, he imagined it as if Cassandra Montgomery had already been found guilty. A sort of test to see if his gut would react any differently than before.
Surprisingly, it did. Just not in the way Archer had expected.
Rather than relaxing with the notion that justice would be served should a guilty verdict be rendered by a jury of her peers, his gut had filled with even more tension than before. When he studied those avoiding eyes and body movements designed to shield—really watched her with a trained operative’s eyes—Archer didn’t feel a sense of justice.
He felt…wrong.
From the moment the breaking news alert about Russell Montgomery’s death had interrupted the game he’d been watching, something about the case against the man’s wife was justwrong.Problem was he had no idea what to do with that.
Nothing to do, dipshit. It’s not your case; therefore it’s not your problem.
No, it wasn’t his problem.Shewasn’t his problem. But the new company he’d agreed to help run was, so…
Archer turned off the T.V. and slid the remote back onto his desk. Lifting his black boots from the smooth surface, he dropped his feet to the carpeted floor and wheeled his leather chair back into position.
Looking around at the spacious office with its dark woods, earthy tones, and exposed red brick, he couldn’t help but shake his head and grin with wonder. A year ago—hell, a little over sixmonthsago—he would have laughed in the face of anyone who tried telling him he’d be living in Seattle and working at a place where he had his very own office and fancy desk.
Yet here he was, living in Seattle, employed by the one of the fastest-growing private security firms in the country. And the best part…
He got to work side-by-side with his brothers again. And this time,theywere the ones in charge.
Eagle’s Nest Securities—the company Archer and four of his former Navy SEAL teammates started up a few months earlier—had catapulted into what felt like an overnight success. Not only were theynothurting for business, but it had gotten to the point they’d actually had to start taking turns with walk-ins so one of them would always be available for those in dire need of immediate assistance.
So far, that had only happened twice. Both situations had been serious. Both potentially deadly. And thanks to Archer and his team, both would-be victims were safe and sound. Their aggressors now behind bars.
Where assholes like them belonged.
That was how things worked with their firm. Someone came to them with a problem outside law enforcement’s reach—stalker, crazy ex who refuses to take no for an answer, personalized home security system designs and installation—the men of Eagle’s Nest Securities took care of it all.
“Mr. Nash?”
Archer blinked, his gaze swinging to the phone on his left. The damn thing had more buttons than he’d ever know what to do with, but the tiny red light shining bright said he was no longer alone.
“What’s up, Hannah?” he spoke to the young woman they’d hired as their full-time office manager.
“There’s a woman here who would like to speak with one of the team.”