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Dead Against Her (Bree Taggert, #5)(68)

Author:Melinda Leigh

Bree called her brother, Adam, and gave him a quick summary of Luke’s suspension. “Do you have some time over the next few days to spend with Luke?”

“I’m headed to New York. The gallery manager wants to meet in person to talk about my latest painting.”

“Is that good?”

“I don’t know.” Adam’s laugh sounded nervous. “It’s different from my other work. Maybe he hates it.”

“I think it’s the best piece you’ve ever done,” Bree said.

“Thanks. I guess we’ll see,” Adam said in a resigned voice. “How about I take Luke with me?”

Bree hesitated. Adam used to be very removed from everyone—including her and the kids. Since their sister died, Bree had asked him to be more involved in the kids’ lives, and Adam had delivered. She needed to trust him. Plus, a guys’ trip with Adam could soothe the sting of not being able to go camping with his friends. “I think he might like that.”

“Great,” Adam said in a more cheerful tone. “I’ll call him.”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family.”

“Yes, we are.” Bree ended the call, feeling more hopeful. No matter what happened with her job, she had her family, Dana, and Matt. She would be OK.

Dana stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “Well?”

Bree filled her in.

“Rotten little fuckers,” Dana said. “Deepfake and revenge porn are new ways to abuse women, to take away their power.”

“This could literally happen to any woman.”

“You need to get your power back.”

“Suggestions for doing that?” Bree asked.

“I’d do another press conference. Reveal what’s happening. Name names.”

“Can’t.” Bree shook her head. “It’s part of an active murder investigation. I’ve already been accused of orchestrating Oscar’s death to conceal corruption. Imagine if I went public with the knowledge that Oscar died shortly after uploading those deepfake images. Plus, we don’t know where the videos came from yet. Oscar didn’t make them. He just shared them. Matt has some suspicions but no evidence to back them up.”

“Then find out who made them.” Dana mashed her lips flat. “Think of how many other women will be targeted. Do you want them to be too embarrassed to stop it? Should they just suffer in silence because their abuser found a new way to hurt them?”

“No,” Bree admitted with reluctance. “I know you’re right, but I can’t go public with the suspects and motives in an active investigation.”

“I know you can’t, but you need to crush some nuts and shut it down.”

Bree’s phone vibrated and she glanced at it. “It’s Matt. I have to get back to work. I’ve been ignoring him for the last thirty minutes.”

“You go. I’ll take care of Luke.” Dana turned toward the refrigerator. “I’ll make some of his favorite foods tonight: chicken parm and lemon bars.”

“Thank you for the one thousandth time. I don’t know how I would manage to give these kids a decent home without you. You provide the stability they need.”

Dana’s eyes went misty. “Yeah, well, the appreciation goes both ways. I was so busy kicking asses, I didn’t take the time to have kids.” Dana had been married and quickly divorced twice. “Thanks for sharing yours.”

“For someone who never had kids, you’re a hell of a mom.” Bree grabbed her phone and headed for the door. On the way to her SUV, she called Matt. “I’m sorry. I needed to focus on Luke. Now I’m headed to Morgan Dane’s office. What’s up?”

“Have you seen the news?”

Bree’s stomach sank. “No. Why?”

“Paris Vickers is calling for your resignation.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Still digesting the Crightons’ accusations, Bree parked in front of a duplex near the business district of Scarlet Falls. The first-floor unit housed the offices of Morgan Dane, Attorney at Law, and Sharp Investigations. Bree had been here once before, to interview Lincoln Sharp during a previous case.

Bree entered the building, and Morgan Dane greeted her in the foyer of what once had been an apartment. Tall and slim, the lawyer wore a pale blue silk blouse and a single strand of pearls. Her long dark hair hung to her shoulders in elegant waves. The way she enhanced her femininity in a tasteful way reminded Bree of Stephanie Crighton. Did they teach dressing for success in law school? Or was it a learn-by-doing activity? Either way, standing next to Morgan, Bree felt awkward in her bulky body armor under her uniform, thick duty belt, and practical shoes. However, Bree did have a handgun, collapsible baton, and handcuffs handy.

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