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“I think there’s a chance there’s more to the story. If Marco’s right about everything, which, I’ll admit, I’m kind of inclined to agree might be the case.”

Marco laughed, the sound brittle and bitter. “Why? Why believe me now?”

Sloane’s eyes darted to Dean and then back to Marco. “Because maybe I know a little something about being one way and the world seeing me differently. Because maybe I know what it’s like to be more me with one person who could vouch for me more than anyone else.”

Marco relented, unable to find a retort to the bald truth Sloane laid out before him. “He can’t just...he deserves better than this. Like, he gets a trial, a hearing, right? Like, I can tell them that, right? I can...help, right?”

Sloane grimaced again, and Marco’s heart sank. “The problem is one character witness, an especially biased one, against a slew of reports of violence and anger problems, plus Reynolds’ report is not going to do much. If we had proof, the police report of the incident, we might stand a chance.”

“Or the person Carter defended against this Reynolds asshole,” Marco muttered.

Dean stiffened beside him as Sloane grunted. “That too. But we don’t have a single clue who it was. He won’t name them, for whatever reason.”

Dean let out a sharp breath. “Fuck.”

Marco glanced at him. “Dean?”

Dean bowed his head. “I know.”

“What?” Sloane asked, confused. “Who is it? How?”

“The woman he brought in the day he was arrested,” Dean said to his lap. “It has to be. That whole check-up was so strange. She was skittish, though she tried to act like she wasn’t. Her uniform was in disarray, there was a weird mark on her hip, andjust...the way Carter looked when he showed up with her, and how vague he was.”

Sloane leaned back, clicking his tongue. “You think Reynolds sexually assaulted her.”

“Or tried to. Carter might have got there in time to make sure he failed,” Dean said faintly.

Marco closed his eyes, feeling them sting. “And he wouldn’t name her. He wouldn’t put her in a position where she might be exposed. Not unless she chose to.”

Sloane grunted, looking unhappy as he spoke. “Then...unless she makes the accusation, which she hasn’t, we can do nothing. We can’t just call her up on a theory, especially if Carter won’t name her.”

“He won’t,” Marco said, opening his eyes, realizing what he had to do, and convincing his friends to help him. “Dean, I need your help.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Marco, no.”

“Carter won’t do it,” Marco insisted, holding his friend’s gaze. “And Sloane can’t. But maybe I can, with your help.”

“Do you understand how much shit could come down on all of us if it goes wrong?” Dean asked in a strangled voice.

“What am I missing here?” Sloane asked.

Dean huffed. “Marco wants me to get him a one-on-one with the private I haven’t named yet.”

Sloane’s eyes widened. “What? If he did that, she could easily report him. Do you know what that would do to his record, his career?”

Marco shook his head. “To report what he’d done, she’d have to fess up to what had happened in the first place.”

“Jesus, Marco,” Dean hissed.

Guilt twisted, hot and ugly in his gut, but he continued. “And I wouldneverask you to name her to anyone else. I would never out her to the world. All I want is to talk to her, to see if there’sa chance. If she chooses not to, then that’s her choice. I wouldneverforce her to do what she can’t, but goddammit, I have to ask. I have to find out.”

“You’re considering this,” Sloane asked Dean. When Dean winced, Sloane groaned. “You’re going to do it.”

“I don’t like the way our asses are covered,” Dean said, scowling.

“I hate it,” Marco admitted, meaning it. “But this is a chance for her too. It’s not just Carter who’d win. Her and every other victim before her, orwillcome after her, will get justice too.”

“Oh fuck,” Sloane swore vehemently. “Now I’m convinced. I hate you, Marco.”