polka dot dress and had a yellow headband in her blue hair. The look made Rachel long for her sunglasses.
“There’s no trace evidence on the photos. Anything that might have been there years ago has degraded to the point of being useless, and the minute traces of latex tell me that our blackmailer wore gloves when they handled them recently.”
“No visual clues from the images themselves?” Callum asked.
He and Lake stood side by side. Both had a military bearing that couldn’t be hidden, but while Lake stayed stony-faced and icily calm, Callum looked like his head might explode.
“This isn’t CSI,” Elle said. “I can’t enhance a ten-year-old Polaroid to the point where I see the reflection of a face in somebody’s ring.”
“A simple no would suffice,” he snapped.
“No,” Elle said tersely, obviously losing patience.
“Why don’t we just break into everybody’s houses and search for evidence?” Ryan was still in a huff after being made to clean up the vomit. The experience hadn’t interfered with his appetite though, as he was currently snacking on popcorn. “Like Rachel told the asshole downstairs, we aren’t the cops. There’s nothing stopping us.”
“Uh”—Noah, the ex-cop, raised a hand—“how about the fact we could be arrested for breaking and entering? That should stop us.”
Ryan shook his head in disgust. “You Americans are way too cautious.”
“Law abiding. Not cautious,” Noah corrected.
“We can up surveillance on everyone involved with the company’s board,” Lake said. “But we can’t break into their homes.” He ran a hand through his military-short blond hair. “What we’re missing here is motive. Why does our blackmailer want Rachel out of TayFor?”
Everyone looked at her as though expecting to see the answer written on her face.
“I have no idea,” she said.
“Maybe…” Harry piped up from where he sat beside Elle; their laptops open in front of both of them. “Maybe it’s because you got those two guys fired. Maybe the blackmailer thought you’d poke your nose in where it didn’t belong and get them fired too.”
“It seems a bit drastic to drug and rape someone just to protect your job,” Rachel pointed out.
At her words, everyone in the room shuffled in place, looking seriously uncomfortable. Everyone except Harvard.
“Uh, sorry, Rachel,” Harry mumbled. “I didn’t mean…hell, I don’t know what I meant.”
Oh, no. She wasn’t putting up with this. Getting to her feet, she looked around at each person in the room. Most couldn’t look her in the eye. Those who could manage were either close to tears, like Joe’s wife—their office manager—Julia, or were full of pity, like Noah.
“Everybody look at me now,” she ordered in the tone she only used when she was about to cause serious damage. All eyes met hers. “I want to be very clear. I am still the same rabid bitch you all knew last week. I haven’t changed, and I don’t intend to either. If you can’t even look me in the eye, then you need to leave this room right now. I am not ashamed of what happened to me. And I won’t accept having anyone around me who feels shame for me.”
There were murmurs of apology before the person she’d least expected to talk spoke up. “Rachel,” Julia said from the corner, where she hid behind a large office plant while being guarded by her husband. Julia didn’t do well with crowds. Or people in general. “No one feels shame. We’re all just shocked and hurting for you. This is how we show we care about you.”
There were nods of agreement as Joe flashed an encouraging smile at the potted plant.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you showed how much you cared by expressing rage and a deep need to find the men who assaulted me and rip their testicles off before shoving them down their throats.”
The room filled with pained groans as several men covered their privates.
Harvard shook his head and grinned at her.
Well, what did he expect? For her to put up with everyone walking on eggshells around her forever?
As she sat back down, Lake flashed her one of his rare smiles. “Whatever their reason, the blackmailer wants you gone from TayFor. If you walk into work Monday as if nothing’s happened, there’s no guessing what they’ll do next. This could get violent.”
“They haven’t done so before now,” Rachel said. “I suspect my blackmailer is a coward. Whoever it is likes to manipulate things while staying hidden.”
“But,” Lake persisted, “it only took one warning years ago to get rid of you. This time, you’re