the time of death. It read, simply, “Logan, I’m sorry.”
Security logs showed no one else badging in or out of the gym during the night. Aaden’s fingerprints were the only ones on the gun and no other injuries, other than several strains and microtears in various stages of healing—all attributed to martial arts training—were noted during the autopsy. The death was ruled self-inflicted and the case closed.
Stomach twisting, Nora took a breath and closed the file.
“This happened here? I never heard about it.”
“The incident was handled quietly, out of respect for Aaden and his family.”
Nora had just sat with Logan in the steam room, had showered and dressed mere feet from where this man had died. How was it possible that only hours ago she’d been sorry she hadn’t spent more time in the locker rooms? Now she didn’t know if she could ever walk inside them again.
She moved to the conference table where both Strike owners had refused to sit, and held the back of one of the chairs to steady herself. She’d taken classes from Aaden once or twice. He’d been tall and almost too lean, as though still growing into his adult body. His smile was infectious, bright white against his dark skin, and his energy seemed boundless. A kid on the cusp of everything.
“And you feel this is relevant to the current investigation?”
“No.” Logan’s tone was flat and final.
Gregg sighed. “Some of the information blacked out in that report is … financial.”
Logan made a move toward Gregg—What, was she going to hit him?—and without thinking Nora stepped between them.
All morning, she’d buried herself in professionalism, focusing one hundred percent of her energy on distancing herself from the two people in this room. She’d conducted the kickoff, taken the tour, and interviewed them with as much detachment as she possessed. No one looking in during the last hour would ever think she’d slept with Gregg Abbott or enjoyed a cozy steam room chat with Logan Russo.
But those police photos had undone everything. They’d blown a giant, messy hole through her objectivity and now, somehow, she’d rushed straight into the middle of this land mine of a marriage.
Nora turned to Logan and spoke in a low voice, the same tones she used to coax witness statements out of scared or belligerent employees.
“It’s just the three of us in the room right now. The door’s closed and you can see I’m not writing anything down. We’re only talking.” Nora laid a hand on Logan’s arm, and was startled to realize it was trembling. Anger, yes, but there was another emotion vibrating in the fighter’s expression. Nora kept her grip light and her voice calm.
“I’m going to learn this information at some point this week. Either he’s going to tell me or I’ll find out on my own. That’s what I do. And I can see that, whatever it is, upsets you. So wouldn’t you rather be in the room when it happens? To make sure I understand the full and accurate situation?”
The office was silent for a moment before Logan swallowed and the tremors running underneath her skin seemed to shimmer in the very whites of her eyes.
“You’re good.”
A tiny smile lifted Nora’s mouth before she released Logan’s arm. “I’m the best.”
Then she nodded at Gregg, who cleared his throat and began to fill in the redacted portions of the police report. The note to Logan wasn’t the only thing the police found on Aaden at the time of his death. He’d also been carrying a slip of paper in his wallet.
“The paper had Strike’s name on it and a bank account number. When the police looked through Aaden’s checking account, they found three unexplained deposits.”
“We checked all the company accounts. I had Darryl go through everything personally.” Logan interrupted, flashing a look at Gregg. “There were no withdrawals for those amounts from Strike.”
“How much were they?” Nora asked.
“Five thousand in January. Then two more deposits for ninety-five hundred each in February and March, the last one just a few days before his death.” Gregg nodded to the report still in Nora’s hand. “The police checked, but there was no further information tied to any of them. They were in-person, cash deposits.”
Logan moved to the pictures Nora had been looking at earlier, stopping in front of the one with all the kids. When she spoke, her voice was hollow.
“I knew Aaden Warsame for almost ten years. He was one of the first kids in the Strike Next program and