The Biker President's Runaway Witness

No Safe Ex

Tyler's signature is still on the screen when I decide not to call him.

Then I decide that is fear pretending to be caution.

There is a difference.

"I need to test him," I say.

Rook does not answer immediately.

Ledger looks between us, then quietly closes the laptop without shutting it down.

"I'll give you the room," he says.

"Stay available."

"Always an accountant's dream."

He leaves.

Rook remains near the door.

"You don't have to make the call now."

"I know."

"You also don't have to make it with me here."

I look at him.

He means it.

That should not feel unusual.

It does.

"Stay," I say. "Do not speak unless I ask you to."

"All right."

Rose brings up a phone still sealed in its box. No club contacts. No saved numbers. Nothing that belongs to me.

I remember Tyler's number anyway.

Of course I do.

For four years, I could dial it without looking. For six months after I ended the engagement, I had to stop myself from doing exactly that.

Now the number feels like evidence.

I call.

He answers on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

His voice hits somewhere beneath my ribs.

Not love.

Memory.

"Tyler."

Silence.

Then, "Maya?"

Rook's posture changes by half an inch.

I keep my eyes on the table.

"I need to ask you something boring."

"Where are you?"

Too fast.

"That is not the boring thing."

"Maya, Cross is dead."

My fingers tighten around the phone.

The murder is no longer private information. That proves nothing.

"I know."

"The police are looking for you."

"That also isn't my question."

He breathes out.

I know that breath. Tyler uses it when he thinks patience makes him the reasonable person in the room.

"Fine. Ask."

"Last year, when Cross Compliance reviewed Kessler emergency-transfer billing, did your office sign any threshold exceptions?"

The question is dry enough to put a jury to sleep.

That is why I chose it.

"Why are you asking me about Kessler?"

"Did you?"

"I signed hundreds of reviews."

"That is not an answer."

"Maya, if this is about whatever Cross gave you-"

I go still.

Across from me, Rook's eyes lift.

I never said Cross gave me anything.

"Whatever Cross gave me?" I repeat.

Tyler is quiet.

Too quiet.

"People are saying he kept records off-site," he says finally.

"People."

"The office."

"Which office?"

"Mine."

"Who told you?"

"I don't know."

That answer is pure Tyler.

Not a lie big enough to confront.

A gap small enough to hide inside.

I change direction.

"I left my spare apartment key at your place after the move. Do you still have it?"

Another boring question.

Another test.

"No."

"You threw it away?"

"I gave it to the deputy who came by."

My pulse changes.

"What deputy?"

"Harker's people. They were trying to make sure nobody could get into your apartment before they searched it."

I stare at the wall.

Sheriff Harker operates in Blackridge County.

My apartment is in Mesa Vale.

"Why would Blackridge County care about my apartment?"

Tyler says nothing.

I ask, "Did you tell them I was in Blackridge?"

"I didn't say that."

There it is.

The narrowing.

I only.

I didn't exactly.

"You didn't need to," I say. "You just told me they were already acting on the assumption."

"Maya-"

"Do you know where I am?"

"No."

The answer comes quickly.

Then he adds, "But if you're at Redline, you need to leave."

The room becomes very quiet.

I look at Rook.

He does not move.

I did not say Redline.

Not once.

"Who told you that?" I ask.

Tyler's voice drops.

"Listen to me. Do not make this worse by trusting people you don't know."

"You mean bikers."

"I mean anyone."

"Including you?"

A pause.

"I never wanted us to end the way we did," he says.

The sentence is so familiar that for half a second I am back in our old kitchen, listening to him explain why he had discussed my work with a prosecutor friend because he was worried about me. He had not called it betrayal. He had called it context.

I pull myself back to the room.

"This is not about our engagement."

"You always say that when it is exactly about trust."

"No. This is about whether you are connected to a document hidden by a murdered compliance officer."

Rook's gaze sharpens, but he stays silent because I told him to.

Tyler says, "What document?"

Too quick again.

"The one I didn't describe."

"Maya, don't do this."

"Do what? Ask questions?"

"Turn every incomplete answer into a conspiracy."

I write the sentence down.

Tyler hears the scratch of my pen. "Are you recording me?"

"I'm taking notes."

"Since when do you take notes during personal calls?"

"Since personal calls started containing information about active homicide warrants."

He goes quiet.

Rook's expression does not change, but one hand uncloses on the edge of the table. He understands something Tyler does not: the more pressure Tyler applies, the more exact I become.

I say, "Tell me one thing I can verify. Who contacted you first after Cross died?"

"I can't disclose internal communications."

"Then tell me whether it was Harker's office."

"Maya-"

"Was it?"

"I am trying to keep you out of a situation you don't understand."

There it is again. Protection used as a reason not to answer.

I look at Rook.

He sees the comparison.

He looks away first.

A pause.

"That is not fair."

I almost laugh.

Fair is not the word I would have chosen for finding his signature inside a dead man's secret archive.

"Who briefed you?"

"I can't talk about an active matter."

"You called me a witness before I told you I witnessed anything."

"Cross was killed at your office. You disappeared. It is not complicated."

"Then why did you know about Redline?"

Silence again.

Rook takes one step back, giving me more space even though he is already six feet away.

Tyler says, "Maya, I am trying to keep you from getting hurt."

The old sentence.

The one that used to make compromise sound like affection.

"Then tell me who gave you my location."

"I don't know your location."

"You just named it."

His voice sharpens for the first time.

"Because Sheriff Harker is already seeking a material-witness warrant for you, and Redline is the first place he plans to serve it."

I stop breathing for one beat.

Rook's expression goes cold.

Tyler lowers his voice again.

"Maya, when Harker comes, go with him."