Redeemed by Becca Jameson

think he has another woman with him, the answer is no.” Evan had meticulously gone through the man’s trash at every location. He’d seen nothing to indicate Damon had taken another woman.
    “Well, that’s good.”
    “Unless of course you take a long look at the list of parents who have very little or similar contact with their young daughters as Ashley Rice’s family did—and I’m sure you all have done that. In which case you have no choice to but assume this problem extends way beyond Damon Parkfield and could in fact be a conspiracy of huge proportions.”
    “We wondered if that had occurred to you.” Mr. Jerard looked back and forth at the other men with him. He lifted his papers and tapped them on the table to straighten the stack.
    “Gentleman, you can stop ignoring the elephant in the room. I’m painfully aware there is undoubtedly a black market of some sort distributing a new drug concoction whose purpose is to keep its victim docile and controllable. The question is why? Who is making the drugs? And how widespread is the distribution?” Evan saw no reason to skirt this issue another moment. If these men had called him to Seattle to meet with them—all five of them—then they had an agenda and he intended to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
    The man to the left of Mr. Jerard leaned to the side to whisper something in the older man’s ear.
    Evan had excellent hearing, but then so did every other shifter in the room. It made whispering at a lower decibel necessary for them all. He couldn’t make out a single word.
    Evan glanced at the other men at the table. The elderly man to the right of Mr. Jerard was Melvin Cunningham. His narrowed gaze made Evan nervous. Mr. Cunningham leaned back in his chair and tapped his cheek with two fingers, never removing his gaze from Evan. The two men flanking the group on both ends were Earl Johnson and Lucas Sheffield. Both were middle aged.
    Finally, the taller, skinnier man on the left, who Evan knew was Steven Wightman, cleared his throat and sat straight. “Who has been paying you for your work so far, sir?”
    “No one.” That was the truth. Evan hadn’t received a dime for his efforts. The only way he’d stayed afloat financially was by expanding his company and hiring others to work for him. Somehow he’d managed to stay in the black. But he knew he couldn’t keep it up much longer. It was expensive traveling all around the country chasing his tail.
    “Why?” Mr. Wightman asked.
    “Sir?”
    “What reason do you have to follow a convict from state to state for no financial gain?” Mr. Wightman held Evan’s gaze.
    In fact, Evan could feel all eyes piercing him. Though the other three men hadn’t said a word during this meeting, they were paying close attention. There was no reason to lie. He’d eventually be found out anyway. “Ms. Rice is my mate.”
    No one flinched. He hadn’t shocked them.
    Mr. Jerard spoke again. “And you believe you can remain impartial in this case with the victim as your mate?”
    Evan shook his head. “I never said I was impartial. I intend to find Damon Parkfield and bring him to justice. If you’re asking me if I’m planning to shoot the man in the skull and ask questions later, the answer is no. I want him alive as much as you do. It’s the only way to get information from him about who his supplier is and catch the real bad guy.
    “Until Mr. Parkfield is apprehended, Ashley Rice’s life is on hold. She’s frozen with fear. Yes, she’s my mate. However, you need to know she has not allowed me to claim her. No action has been taken to make her mine. In fact, I’ve only met with her on two short occasions since her rescue, both of those recent. She’s in no position to be claimed. Nor does she have any interest.”
    “And you believe if you can find Damon Parkfield and get him off the streets, Ms. Rice will accept you?” Mr. Wightman asked.
    Evan shook his head. “Not at all. There are no